Acts 25 "Waiting Without Losing Faith"
When Kim and I moved to Texas in 1987 it felt like there was an undeniable, green light from heaven. In a lot of ways, but especially after driving a thousand miles with $350 to our name and getting turned away by the friend who promised we could stay with him—we didn’t know what we were going to do. Then the manager of the first apartment complex we tried greeted us as we walked through the door with: "God told me you were coming!"—waiving credit checks and security deposits on the spot. The universe had practically laid down neon signs and a red carpet for us. We absolutely believed God had directed us to move here.
I had just graduated with a degree in Bible and theology and music. I wanted to take my songs, that talked about Jesus and hope and light, and play them in the darkest, most hopeless places that would have us. That was the dream—to be a light in very dark places. We moved here to work with a music production company that some of my friends were already working with.
So, with God’s obvious blessing, I assumed record deals, world tours, and MTV would happen by a week from Tuesday. Instead, God seemed to press "pause" for six years.
It was painful, God’s direction led to what felt like a brick wall and a comedy-of-errors survival marathon. First my equipment was stolen. Then there was my five-minute telemarketing career, which ended after dialing three consecutive fax machines and walking out the front door. Shortest job I ever had. There was the "United Teens," crew leader position where I worked with youth from Houston’s poorest neighborhoods, trying to help keep them off the streets and out of trouble, but mostly was about Kim and I getting robbed blind, my van engine blowing up, and spending two weeks rebuilding it in a concrete parking lot in the Texas sun. All of my auto mechanic training has been done in self-defence. I had a bucket of parts left over when I was done and no one was more surprised than me when it actually started back up! After that there was flower delivery driving, which went okay until I accidentally mixed up a 50th-birthday "over the hill" black-balloon arrangement and delivered it to a funeral home—after dropping off the sympathy flowers at a birthday party. That was my last day for some reason. After that I spent my days at Domino's pizza hiding my long hair under a baseball cap, driving around screaming at God, and writing songs about how I wish I was a hammer instead of a nail. Years ticked by while record labels passed, and friends and family wondered how long I was going to keep holding on to the dream.
Ugh. Sometimes life doesn’t go the way we thought it would. Sometimes we feel stuck. Disappointed. Trapped. Sometimes a closed door is a sign to move on and try something else. But sometimes it’s just jammed and we need to keep pushing. Or pulling, we don’t want to be like the kid in the Far Side school for gifted children. “Gary, have you tried the other way?” Sometimes we need a different approach. Sometimes we just have to wait a while.
Even when God led us to the place where we’re waiting. We don’t always get an express elevator to the top floor. Sometimes the elevator gets stuck between floors—and we find ourselves having awkward conversations with random people. Stuck wherever we are, wondering if we were wrong about where God was leading us, wondering if the mission failed, or if God changed His mind.
We’ve been going through the Book of Acts verse by verse and today we’re in chapter 25.
Jesus had told Paul personally in Acts 23:11, “Take courage! For as you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome.” It was a big promise filled with divine purpose. But then Paul spends the next two years in a podunk prison doing what seemed like pretty much nothing. When I was writing this sermon, I thought, “Ooo, I’ll bet he wrote a bunch of New Testament while he was stuck there”—so I looked it up. The number of epistles Paul wrote while he was in jail those two years was zero. He wrote zero Bible. All he did was wait for a greedy little governor named Felix to bring him in every now and then for private theology lessons. It had to be so frustrating. What happened to the big promises? The grand purpose? It looks like Paul spent those two years without any movement toward Rome at all. He just sat in jail while Felix, the one who could have done something about it—should have done something about it—didn’t.
I feel that. I bet you do, too. When life stalls and it seems like we’ve been abandoned. But God doesn’t promise us a fast pass, He just promises His presence.
After those two years of being held by Felix, a new governor named Festus took over, Paul’s situation is about to accelerate dramatically.
Acts 25:1–5 says,
"Three days after Festus arrived in Caesarea to take over his new responsibilities, he left for Jerusalem, where the leading priests and other Jewish leaders met with him and made their accusations against Paul. They asked Festus as a favor to transfer Paul to Jerusalem (planning to ambush and kill him on the way). But Festus replied that Paul was at Caesarea and he himself would be returning there soon. So he said, 'Those of you in authority can return with me. If Paul has done anything wrong, you can make your accusations.'"
Festus, the new Roman governor, wants to make the Jewish leaders happy to keep peace in Judea. Since those leaders hate Paul, they request him to be transferred to Jerusalem—so they can kill him on route and be done with it. But Paul was a Roman citizen, so Festus wasn’t going to let that happen. He told them to come to Caesarea and make their case.
Acts 25:6 says,
"About eight or ten days later Festus returned to Caesarea, and on the following day he took his seat in court and ordered that Paul be brought in. When Paul arrived, the Jewish leaders from Jerusalem gathered around and made many serious accusations they couldn’t prove. Paul denied the charges. 'I am not guilty of any crime against the Jewish laws or the Temple or the Roman government,' he said. Then Festus, wanting to please the Jews, asked him, 'Are you willing to go to Jerusalem and stand trial before me there?' But Paul replied, 'No! This is the official Roman court, so I ought to be tried right here. You know very well I am not guilty of harming the Jews. If I have done something worthy of death, I don’t refuse to die. But if I am innocent, no one has a right to turn me over to these men to kill me. I appeal to Caesar!' Festus conferred with his advisers and then replied, 'Very well! You have appealed to Caesar, and to Caesar you will go!'"
The Jewish leaders show up and make a bunch of crazy accusations against Paul—all without evidence. Paul defends himself saying he hasn’t done anything against Jewish law, the temple, or Rome. Festus has no idea why this guy is even in jail but he really wants to make his new Jewish subjects happy so he asks Paul if he’d be willing to go with them to Jerusalem and be tried there. I’m sure Paul looks at him like he’s lost his mind, “You think I want to go with these bloodthirsty liars and hope to get a fair trial? Hmmm. Tempting.” Paul has a better idea, he appeals to Caesar. “Let’s take this to the Supreme Court, baby!” It’s a pretty brave move. Put his life in the hands of Emperor Nero—you may have heard of him. Risky, but it would guarantee he got to Rome. Festus is like, “Sure, I’m happy to be done with you. Off to Nero you go. Enjoy the lion exhibit at the colosseum.”
While he was waiting…
Acts 25:13 says,
"A few days later King Agrippa arrived with his sister, Bernice, to pay their respects to Festus. During their stay of several days, Festus discussed Paul’s case with the king. 'There is a prisoner here,' he told him, 'whose case was left for me by Felix. When I was in Jerusalem, the leading priests and Jewish elders pressed charges against him and asked me to condemn him. I pointed out to them that Roman law does not convict people without a trial. They must be given an opportunity to confront their accusers and defend themselves. 'When his accusers came here for the trial, I didn’t delay. I called the case the very next day and ordered Paul brought in. But the accusations made against him weren’t any of the crimes I expected. Instead, it was something about their religion and a dead man named Jesus, who Paul insists is alive. I was at a loss to know how to investigate these things, so I asked him whether he would be willing to stand trial on these charges in Jerusalem. But Paul appealed to have his case decided by the emperor. So I ordered that he be held in custody until I could arrange to send him to Caesar.' 'I’d like to hear the man myself,' Agrippa said. And Festus replied, 'You will—tomorrow!'"
King Agrippa II arrives with his sister Bernice to welcome the new governor. According to the ancient gossip columnists, they were not only brother and sister—they were siblings with benefits. Whether the rumors were true or not, it was scandalous enough that everybody had heard about it. Also, if you remember Princess Drusella from last week, the wife of Felix, she was also their sister. Their dad was Herod Agrippa the 1st, the guy who killed James the apostle and was killed in Acts chapter 12 as a divine judgment for getting too big for his britches. It seems like their arrival just delays Paul’s journey to Rome but it actually gives him another great opportunity to talk about Jesus to a big crowd of VIPs. Festus even helps set him up. He basically says, "I expected this guy to be some hardened criminal. Instead, the whole thing’s just a theological debate about some dead man named Jesus, who Paul insists is alive." That line’s incredible. Festus gets to the real center of the matter—Paul’s certainly more than happy to take the floor with that intro.
Acts 25:23 says,
"So the next day Agrippa and Bernice arrived at the auditorium with great pomp, accompanied by military officers and prominent men of the city. Festus ordered that Paul be brought in. Then Festus said, 'King Agrippa and all who are here, this is the man whose death is demanded by all the Jews, both here and in Jerusalem. But in my opinion he has done nothing deserving death. However, since he appealed his case to the emperor, I have decided to send him to Rome. 'But what shall I write the emperor? For there is no clear charge against him. So I have brought him before all of you, and especially you, King Agrippa, so that after we examine him, I might have something to write. For it makes no sense to send a prisoner to the emperor without specifying the charges against him!'"
The king and his sister-girlfriend sweep into the auditorium with pageantry and pomp, surrounded by military and celebrities—Paul is brought in wearing chains. They look impressive. Paul looks powerless. But which one has a mission and a message that still matters two thousand years later? This is going to be a climactic moment in Paul’s life. Festus admits he has absolutely no idea what charges to write down—it wouldn’t look good to send him to Caesar without saying what he’s in jail for. Maybe Agrippa can help him sort it out.
When God doesn’t move according to our schedule and life seems to stall, how we react to waiting can show the ugly condition of our hearts. When our timelines are disrupted, we panic. We get frustrated, we become afraid, resentful, we try to take control—tempted to compromise our faithfulness just to get things moving again.
Festus knows what the law says, but trying to stay in control, protect his career, and get the crowd's approval matters more to him than doing what’s right. We do the same thing. When the promotion is delayed, when we’re passed over for someone else, when the relationship goes sideways, when the money gets tight, or dries up, or when the dream seems to get further and further out of reach—we look for shortcuts. We manipulate the people around us. We treat people as leverage to get what we want. And when God refuses to do things on our schedule, we throw a spiritual tantrum. Get mad at God. We feel sorry for ourselves and pout.
The Jewish leaders had also waited two years. It blackened their hearts even more. It’s important that we trust God in the waiting or we will get bitter.
God doesn’t promise to do anything on our timeline. He doesn’t promise anything will lead to an earthly outcome we want. If we’re following Jesus because we think He’s the “Make All My Wishes Come True Fairy Godbuddy” we’re going to be disappointed. We don’t have any promise that our careers, relationships, health, or personal ambitions are going to work out the way we want in this life. It’s a little different for Paul because he had a specific promise from Jesus that he would testify in Rome. But he didn’t have any promises for how that was going to work out.
So we don’t have any of those promises. Life is going to be filled with trouble and sorrow and pain, that’s just the way it is. But we do have promises. And they’re good promises.
Our God knows our pain. He has suffered and waited and bled for us. For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son to save us. Christ has died and risen for you. You will also die and stand before God to be judged but this is where the good news comes in—Your standing before God is entirely secure.
This whole trial of Paul should remind us of Jesus, who stood before Herod the king and Pilate the governor, in an unjust trial, condemned by a corrupt religious and political system. This matters to you in a very direct way—because Jesus endured that unjust courtroom, you stand before God in the divine courtroom with a verdict of not guilty by reason of grace. Because Jesus died, He took the judgment you deserve and gave you His innocence. And because Christ is risen, you are free to live in the resurrection beyond death. Nothing can separate you from the new life you have in Christ. No earthly power can prevent Him from bringing you to the resurrection He’s promised. We hold onto that hope by faith. Even though for now we wait. But while we wait, Christ is with us during the delay. Christ is with you in the waiting. He promises to be present in the prison cell, in the courtroom. In the waiting. Even when you can’t understand what God’s doing, He hasn’t failed you, His grace hasn't failed. He hasn’t broken any of His promises. Your ultimate deliverance from evil is already finished, sealed, and secured by the blood of Jesus. Your final chapter has been written and it’s a good ending. An ending that never ends.
And yet, for now we wait. Faith lives in the hope of a promised future that we have now even if it’s not yet. Faith is trust in God’s promises that gives us true hope. That’s why we can wait faithfully.
Live in response to this grace, which means you can stop white-knuckling everything and trying to force open doors that God has shut for the moment. In your everyday situations—whether it’s dealing with a difficult boss and office politics, or endless medical delays, or a dream stuck in neutral—you don't have to panic or doubt God’s purpose in your life.
God is never late. His wisdom gives you the freedom to show up, day after day, do your work faithfully, and trust that He’s with you, even in the mundane, irritating, mind-numbing bottlenecks of life. God wants us to look around and love the people He puts in front of us—that’s the real mission. Not to treat your coworkers as obstacles or stepping stones to your next promotion—they’re human beings placed in your life while you wait. At home, love your family with all the patience God has shown you, instead of insisting they meet your standard of perfection on your demand. When the red lights of life are longer than you wish they were, don't scream at traffic or punch the dashboard like a maniac. Take a breath, and rest in the truth that your life is safely hidden in Christ. You’re on His timeline. God is never in a hurry. Let that sink in. God is never late.
Six years after we moved to Houston—February 24, 1993——someone from Warner Brothers flew in to see us play. So, Atomic Opera played on the tiny stage downstairs at Fitzgerald's called Zelda’s—not glamorous. We weren’t scheduled to play but we managed to talk the club into letting us do a few songs at the end of the night. But it all went bad. It was late by the time we got on, the downstairs manager pulled the plug on the PA mid-set and security escorted our screaming manager out of the building. This was supposed to be our big chance. Total trainwreck. We packed up our gear and went to Denny’s to drown our sorrows in pancakes. We were sitting there talking about how things couldn’t have gone any worse when our manager showed up. He said, “Well, he liked what he heard and made an offer.” I’m like, “What does that mean?” And he said, “It means you don’t work at Dominos anymore.”
Six years felt like a long time. I’m sure they helped make me who I am, I’m sure they built some endurance. But I’m not going to pretend like I understand what God was accomplishing in all that disappointment and frustration. I only know He didn’t abandon me. The God who was present with Paul in prison was present in the pizza-deliveries, too—and His faithfulness didn’t begin that night at Denny’s, either. His faithfulness was never in question, record deal or not—mine was.
Whatever you’re waiting on, know that you can trust Him. He will finish what He has started in you. You are promised the resurrection, and the life Christ has waiting for you. AMEN.
Prayer
Father in heaven, thank You for never abandoning us in the waiting. Thank You for giving Your Son to bear our judgment and secure our resurrection. When we can’t understand what You’re doing, keep us faithful, patient, and attentive to the people You’ve put in our lives. Teach us to trust Your promises and Your timing, knowing that You are never late. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Psalm 13
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.