"As Paul discoursed on righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, 'That's enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you.'"
Acts 24:25
Fear comes in many forms. It challenges mankind daily, tempting Christians to relinquish trust in God. If we dwell on our Maker, this world and all its troubles will hold no sway over us. But if we look to this world and all its troubles, the Lord’s reassuring voice can be muted by the influence of ungodly chatter. This reality was present in the Old Testament story of David and Goliath. Through faith, David viewed Goliath differently from his kinsmen. Israelite soldiers saw an intimidating, unbeatable giant. David, however, saw a mortal man, a man who was provoking and mocking God’s people, and certainly no match for God’s might (2 Samuel 17). Like the Hebrew warriors cowering from the sight and sound of Goliath, fear can overwhelm us and cause us to remain stationary, or altogether retreat from a situation. I remember how fearfully debilitated I was the day my wife, Dawn, experienced complications from a supposedly routine medical procedure.
Dawn has suffered from digestive problems the majority of her life. It began in her youth and carried itself into the early years of our marriage. Dawn is incredibly resilient and rarely voices the sporadic discomfort that engulfs her at times. But after our first child, Jayden, was born, the pain associated with her digestive ailments surged dramatically and put her in an unbearably agonizing circumstance. When we consulted our family doctor, he performed some preliminary tests, which unfortunately did not yield any findings. He then suggested Dawn undergo an ultrasound procedure to analyze her digestive tract. When the ultrasound images were returned to him, he diagnosed the presence of gall stones. He subsequently recommended that Dawn have her gall bladder removed and provided a reference for a local surgeon. The surgeon confirmed our family doctor’s counsel and scheduled Dawn for an operation, reinforcing the fact that Dawn’s gall bladder was improperly functioning and was thereby doing more harm to her body than good.
Both Dawn and I had concerns about the procedure, but we agreed it had the potential to minimize, or better yet eliminate, her digestive troubles. I saw Dawn for a handful of minutes in the hospital before she was taken back to the surgery room. She looked so weary. The years of pain and strain that she had been subjected to were evident in her body language. Her face, which is so normally so bright and expressive, was shrouded in nervousness and reservation. Dawn expressed concerns about how life would be post-surgery. Although many people have benefited from the removal of their gall bladder, some have noted that their bodies reacted in a very foreign, awkward fashion. Frankly, becoming a part of the unsuccessful group of gall bladder removal patients terrified Dawn.
Dawn’s family joined me and Jayden, who was just six months old at the time, in the waiting room. Dawn's mother, father, and three brothers provided me invaluable support, not only in occupying Jayden’s attention but in being a source of comfort. It seemed like an eternity but Dawn’s operation was over after a few hours. When a doctor emerged in the waiting room to give me an update, his initial statement set my heart ablaze with fear. He said Dawn awoke from the surgery unable to breathe. The medical staff was making every effort to stabilize her and supply her with oxygen. They injected Dawn with epinephrine, which did free up her constricted airway. When I asked if I could see Dawn, the physician said they only wanted hospital personnel with her because the situation was critical and demanded medically-trained, qualified staff.
I don’t recall much more than that (although I am sure the physician provided more information). I could not focus on what I was being told because I had gone into momentary emotional shock. A very frightening question formed in my mind: what if Dawn doesn’t survive? Sure there are risks associated with any surgical procedure but I never cognitively assessed the possibility that Dawn could die as a result of complications from the operation. As panic set in, I asked Dawn’s parents to watch Jayden so that I could step outside the hospital and speak to my mother, who asked me to call her after the surgery was completed. She answered the phone in her typically energetic manner, likely expecting me to report that everything with Dawn’s procedure had gone smoothly. I responded to her warm greeting with fear-charged fragments of words, “Mom….Dawn made it through….the surgery….but….when she awoke…she…she…couldn’t breathe…the hospital won’t let me see her…I don’t know…I don’t know what to do.”
Every phrase became harder to convey because I was fighting through tears and fighting through fear. My ability to think and my ability to talk were all being filtered through the lens of anxiety. My weighed-down spirit prevented me from contemplating the grandeur of God or displaying faith in Him. My mother provided me sound encouragement, prompting me to rely on God. When our brief conversation concluded, I went back to the hospital waiting room. I immediately got on the floor and sat alongside Jayden. I desperately longed to hold him for he was a strong, loving connection to Dawn. My soul raced with doubts and distressing considerations. If Dawn doesn’t pull through, how could I ever cope with the pain of losing her? Furthermore, how effective would I be as a widowed father?
I sulked and fretted in that worrisome state for almost an hour. Thankfully, a nurse finally appeared and announced Dawn’s condition had dramatically improved. When I heard that amazing news, my heart practically leapt out of my chest. It was later surmised that acid reflux flared up when Dawn’s intubation tube was extracted. The sudden rush of acid up her esophagus caused her throat to constrict. The administration of epinephrine helped reverse the dangerous effects that rapidly transpired after her surgery. When I was allowed to see Dawn in the recovery room, it felt as though I had been given a second chance to cherish her. I vowed not to take her for granted. Earth’s journey is but a vapor, a reflection which only amplified the importance of letting Dawn know that she is a treasured creation and that I am truly blessed to have her in my life.
Scripture underscores two types of fear: the fear of God (Proverbs 9:10) and the fear of the world (Proverbs 29:25). The fear of God is an attitude of reverence, awe, or respect for the Maker of heaven and earth. The fear of the world, however, is an unhealthy feeling of alarm or dismay brought about by assorted factors (people, animals, unfavorable conditions, etc). Although the fear of the Lord is the fear championed repeatedly throughout the Bible, the fear of the world is a very serious issue, as demonstrated in Acts 24.
In Acts 23, Paul was hastily taken to Caesarea from Jerusalem when a plot to murder him was discovered and relayed to a Roman military commander named Lysias by Paul’s nephew. Having determined Jerusalem would not provide the apostle a safe environment or a safe trial, Lysias decided to bring the legal matter before Governor Felix in Caesarea. Recall that Caesarea was the region Cornelius, a Roman centurion, resided in when his family was led to faith in Christ by Peter in Acts 10. Although the Acts 10 event occurred many years before Paul’s Jerusalem and Caesarean incarceration, the Christian movement that began in Cornelius’s home had apparently remained strong, at least in the Roman civil structure for Acts 24:22 acknowledges that Governor Felix was well-acquainted with the followers of Jesus Christ.
Paul’s trial with Governor Felix was postponed until members of the Sanhedrin could arrive in Caesarea. According to Acts 24:1, the high priest Ananias, some of the elders, and a lawyer named Tertullus met with Governor Felix and Paul a few days later to resume the proceedings that had begun in Jerusalem. Hiring Tertullus for legal counsel was a telling move by the Sanhedrin. Tertullus is not a Jewish name, which implies the religious leaders hired a lawyer of Roman citizenry to argue their case. Presumably, this action was performed with the intention of obtaining a wicked advantage: Governor Felix’s favor. The high priest and the elders were so disposed to seeing Paul remain in chains or executed that they employed an accomplished Roman attorney in an effort to justify the apostle’s condemnation.
With a greedy hand, an immoral heart, and a deceitful tongue, Tertullus spoke on behalf of the religious leaders. His opening statement was laced with flattery and fabrication regarding Felix’s rule and character. Tertullus proclaimed Felix was honorable and an instrument of positive reform, which does not match history’s record, or even what is written in Acts 24:26. Governor Felix was an unprincipled, uncompassionate, power-hungry tyrant, and yet Tertullus rendered him underserved praise. After uttering verbal tribute to Governor Felix, Tertullus declared Paul should be judged a trouble-maker and dissenter, claiming that the apostle had stirred up riots among Jewish people all over the world. While the apostle had certainly received a sizable share of violent threats and actions from mob-like forces, Paul’s expressed desire was to unite people through faith in Jesus Christ, not divide them. He longed to be an intermediary, not an insurrectionist.
Tertullus falsely professed Paul was trying to desecrate the temple in Jerusalem when he was apprehended inside it a couple of weeks prior. The religious leaders were portraying Paul as a person on the fringe of religious extremism. The apostle’s beliefs regarding Jesus’ divinity and sacrificial redemption were not universally accepted doctrinal tenets within the Jewish faith and were therefore considered blasphemous to the priests and Jewish rulers. Paul did not devise these teachings on his own, nor did he seek to receive acclaim because of them. His understanding was the result of careful examination and personal inspiration from the Holy Spirit.
After Tertullus’s closing argument, several Jewish people vouched that the lawyer’s flagrant distortions were credible. Clearly, wickedness has no shortage of accomplices. Nowhere in the text do we read that Paul interrupted the false testimonies. The apostle showed great patience and civility in waiting for his opportunity to address the court. When it came, Governor Felix motioned for Paul to give his defense. Like Tertullus, Paul began his account by recognizing that he was in the presence of an important governmental agent. But unlike Tertullus, Paul did not resort to inappropriate or exaggerated forms of commendation in an effort to woo Felix to his position. He showed Felix respect and then pleaded his case.
Paul’s character was assailed and thus he purposed to correct the misrepresentation of his spirit and conduct. He informed Governor Felix that this matter started when he was observed worshipping inside Jerusalem’s temple. His behavior was not of impure motive. He did not plant seeds of rebellion or argue with any of the Jewish believers engaged in reverent praise inside the temple. Neither did he seek to incite a mutiny against the religious establishment. Simply put, Paul was in the middle of adoring God in serene solitude when he was attacked. The apostle’s desire to associate with his Hebrew brethren by way of respecting Jewish practices was indicative of a motivation to minister to them, not mock them. Paul had no disregard for Jerusalem’s temple. If anything, he cherished it more than most of the Hebrew people. He found great significance in sacrificial offerings because of their symbolic connection to the individual redemption made available in the blood of Christ.In Paul’s retort, he did not cower or gloss over his allegiance to Jesus. Tertullus labeled Christianity an unreasonable sect, but the apostle explained his core beliefs were traceable to the Old Testament writings of Moses (the first five books of the Bible, often referred to as the Torah, meaning instruction or teaching) and the prophets (Isaiah, Amos, Hosea, and so forth). Therefore, Paul’s perspective was not based on some self-concocted humanist reasoning; it was founded on the Word of God. Additionally, the apostle referred to himself as a follower of the Way in Acts 24:14, which perhaps alluded to John 14:6 (a verse signifying that Christ is the singular way to forge a relationship with God and obtain forgiveness of sins).
Paul identified his earnest aim was to be free of offense or reproach and that he strove to keep a clear conscience before both God and man (Acts 24:16). In many of his epistles to the various churches, Paul admitted that he was far from moral perfection, but he also made known his aspiration to maintain a noble lifestyle. A fitting example of Paul’s dedication, which he mentioned to Governor Felix, was his willingness to bring monetary gifts and offerings to Jerusalem on behalf of Christians scattered abroad. In light of this, how could he, a man concerned for his brethren and charitable towards them, be labeled an enemy of them? Paul wisely pointed out that the people directly responsible for his abuse and imprisonment, Jewish people from the province of Asia, were conveniently absent from Felix’s court. It was an appropriate query. After hearing from Tertullus, some dishonest witnesses, and Paul, Governor Felix adjourned the trial, delaying a ruling because he wanted to hear directly from Lysias about the matter.
Sadly, Felix had the power to pardon Paul but chose not to exercise it. Acts 24:26 reveals Felix did this hoping that he might gain financially and politically from Paul’s captivity. Felix did grant Paul some leeway in that Paul’s fellow ministers and friends were permitted to attend to him and visit him, a right frequently bestowed upon Roman citizens. Again, this action was probably driven by Felix’s greed, rather than his generosity. While a prisoner in Caesarea, Paul was called upon by Felix and his wife, Drusilla, so that they could hear more about Paul’s faith in Jesus Christ.
Paul spoke candidly to Felix and Drusilla about the sinful state of man and the judgment that is to come. Felix became so frightened by Paul’s message that he demanded Paul stop talking about it. It would seem that the confrontation of his own depravity alarmed Felix. Instead of seeking spiritual resolution, he chose to defer, or altogether ignore, it. Not long before Paul’s conversation with Felix and Drusilla, a Philippian jailer’s conversion was brought about because of a fear-stricken heart. The prison officer fell at Paul and Silas’s feet, begging for an explanation as to how salvation is achieved (Acts 16:29-30). But Felix, who also received a distressed spirit because of an awareness of his transgressions, suppressed the conviction rather than alleviate it. Stubbornly hostile to the gospel, the governor brushed Paul aside and told him they would discuss faith another day.
Secretly, Felix believed Paul would attempt to bribe him to secure freedom, thus communicating Felix did not really appreciate Paul’s integrity or mission. The apostle was a man of courage, but the Roman governor took him to be a man of corruption and crookedness. Acts 24:27 records Felix kept Paul in confinement for two years, when his tenure in Caesarea had run its course. Paul’s release could have been granted as a parting measure of Felix’s reign in Caesarea, but Felix left Paul in custody in order to retain the pleasure and approval of the Jewish people.
Felix’s reaction to Paul’s testimony in Acts 24 highlights three elements of fear. One, fear is enveloping. Felix was a high-ranking civil authority. He was expected to maintain a sense of composure, decorum, and unflappability. But Felix lost all manner of placidity when he was forced to face the penalty of his misdeeds. Concern suffocated him and caused him to recoil from Paul’s testimony. The man who was prone to making others unsettled was himself made unsettled in the presence of God’s missionary. Sin is not a pleasant reflection, nor should it be. It should send jarring pulses through our soul, pulses that yearn to find satisfaction in the redeeming work of Jesus. Felix stared salvation in the eyes and looked away. He received the firsthand account of one of earth’s greatest saints and refused to heed the loving advice Paul had given him. Enveloped in fear, he allowed it to devour him instead of spurring him to humbly surrender his life to Christ.
Two, fear is exposing. It unveils the dark nature all of humanity has fallen prey to, save Jesus. In a vulnerable and fearful standing, we encounter great shame and remorse. Felix was not accustomed to such sentiments. He was familiar with exaltation and salutation, not guilt or forgiveness. In a commanding office, Felix struggled to acknowledge his weaknesses, which God suddenly flashed before him. Stripped of all self-righteousness, the mighty governor did not feel lofty, but lowly. His sinful heart uncovered, Felix could not safely rest on the laurels of his accomplishments or ambitions.
Felix was not infallible in the company of the Almighty. His impurity and infirmities before him, the only response the prominent ruler could muster was, “That’s enough for now!” Where others have yearned to learn more about God’s glorious love (the Philippian jailer in Acts 16 for example), Felix declined the offer of grace. Fearfully exposed of his humanity, he rebuffed the opportunity to establish a life-changing relationship with Christ.
Three, fear is exasperating. Although exasperation is often used in conjunction with the generation of anger, exasperation can also mean an annoyance which causes one to make an unwise decision. The uncomfortable realization that he was destined to suffer in hell if he did not submit his life to Jesus Christ exasperated Felix, causing him to unwisely shun Paul’s words of redemption. Felix’s ill-advised response was to stubbornly refuse the merit of the apostle’s claims. In defiance, the governor tightened the grip on his heart, disallowing Christ to enter in. His reply was enunciated through his flesh, where imprudent actions always derive from.
There are two paths fear can take us: sanctification or separation. Sanctification is the process by which believers are welcomed into spiritual deliverance through the confession of Jesus’ lordship. Separation, on the other hand, is spiritual exile from God, which was exhibited in Felix’s protest. The governor was presented truth and he spurned it. In his mind, developing a fear or reverence of God was not alluring. He was content to remain affixed to the life he lived and the civil power it rendered him. Fear can either propel mankind to faith and fellowship with Jesus, or it can solidify our passivity and keep us in a lonely, isolated place of self-control. Sadly, fear of the world blinded Felix to salvation. He had an opening to meet the Supreme Authority, the King of kings, but let it pass him by.
Which fear has subdued you: the fear of God or the fear of the world?
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