“God has helped me to this very day; so I stand here and testify to small and great alike. I am saying nothing beyond what the prophets and Moses said would happen— that the Messiah would suffer and, as the first to rise from the dead, would bring the message of light to his own people and to the Gentiles.’ 

 At this point Festus interrupted Paul’s defense. ‘You are out of your mind, Paul!’ he shouted. ‘Your great learning is driving you insane.’

 ‘I am not insane, most excellent Festus,’ Paul replied. ‘What I am saying is true and reasonable. The king is familiar with these things, and I can speak freely to him. I am convinced that none of this has escaped his notice, because it was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you do.’“

Acts 26:22-27 

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JUNE 19, 2025

Today, when we talk about being ashamed of the gospel, we seem to mean something like “It’s embarrassing to believe God exists, and the moral code I follow is viewed as outdated, so I won’t be cool if I claim to believe in God or if people suspect I followed old-fashioned morals.” Or sometimes we mean “People who use the word ‘Christian’ in my country do egregiously anti-Christ things, and as a follower of Jesus, I don’t want my neighbors to associate me or Christ with these things.”  

For Paul and the early church, being ashamed of the gospel meant something very different. The Jews were waiting for a Messiah, and they believed with all their genuine earnest faith in God that the Messiah would be a powerful warrior who would defeat their enemies and make their nation great again.  

Meanwhile, the Romans had a clear understanding of what divinity looked like—and therefore, what virtue and goodness looked like, what the god-pleasing, ideal person looked like: masculine and strong, never humiliated, violently victorious over enemies.  

Yet Paul and the early Christians spent their lives standing up publicly to say that their friend, who was publicly humiliated religiously and politically in the most violent and shameful way possible, who laid down His life rather than fight, who was overpowered rather than overpowering—this same man is both Messiah and God.  

And furthermore, that God blesses the powerless, the weak, the vulnerable—and commands His followers to also lay down their lives in service to the oppressed, serving and loving both neighbors and enemies.  

This was unspeakably ridiculous. This was blasphemous. This sounded patently false. Or as Paul himself said: For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but… we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles. (1 Corinthians 1:18a, 23) 

No wonder Festus thought Paul was out of his mind. 

And today, so many generations later, it still sounds crazy to us. We are still trying to make Jesus into a powerful warrior who will destroy our enemies—rather than receive His invitation to take up our cross and follow Him in a life of love-fueled service, mercy, and compassion.  

Questions for reflection and discussion:  

  • Why was Festus so shocked and appalled by what Paul said? 
  • Do Christians today follow a Jesus-shaped God or a Roman-gods-shaped God, do you think? Why?  
  • In what ways do you choose to follow Jesus? 

Church Reading Plan: Deuteronomy 24; Psalm 114-115