Acts 25

From Prison to Platform: God’s Purpose in Acts 25

The Trial That Wasn’t Really About Paul

As we walk through Acts 25 together, we find ourselves in a moment that looks like legal drama but is actually a divine setup. Paul stands trial once again—this time before a new Roman governor named Festus. From the outside, it’s another bureaucratic shuffle, a political game where Festus tries to appease the Jewish leaders to keep the peace. But behind the scenes, we see something deeper: God using flawed systems and messy situations to fulfill His plans.

The Jews bring serious accusations against Paul, but none of them stick. They’re throwing charges in every direction, but Paul holds his ground. He’s done nothing wrong—nothing against Jewish law, the temple, or even Caesar himself. The irony here? Paul’s imprisonment is actually protecting him. What looks like confinement is God’s cover.

Isn’t that just like God? We cry out in frustration over our current circumstances, not realizing they may be the very things keeping us from greater harm—or better yet, positioning us for a purpose greater than our own comfort. Paul doesn’t just endure prison; he uses it. He knows where he’s going—Rome—and now, through a twisted path of trials, accusations, and appeals, he’s on his way.

False Accusations and a Higher Calling

One of the clearest threads in this chapter—and honestly throughout scripture—is how God uses false accusations for His glory. We saw it in Joseph, Daniel, and now in Paul. These aren’t just stories of survival; they’re evidence of a spiritual battle being fought in both the natural and supernatural realms.

Revelation 12 calls Satan “the accuser of the brethren.” He’s been playing this game for ages—bringing up lies, twisting truths, trying to derail God’s people. But Jesus, our advocate, has already won. When Paul defends himself, we’re reminded that we too can stand in truth—not because of our own righteousness, but because of what Jesus has done. As Paul would later write to the Romans, “It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one.” (Romans 8:33–34)

So what do we do when we face accusation—whether it’s from others or the voice in our own heads? We cling to truth. We go back to the Word. We remind ourselves that we are a new creation, transformed by the renewing of our minds. The enemy may whisper lies, but we fight back with the promises of God.

Jesus in the Spotlight (Even in Chaos)

What strikes us most about Acts 25 is how Jesus remains the central figure—even when the people involved don’t realize it. King Agrippa and Bernice roll into town with all the drama of a royal scandal (yes, that’s his sister and his partner), and they’re intrigued by Paul’s case. Festus thinks this is all about “some dead guy named Jesus,” but we know better.

Jesus is alive. And His name is being preached—to governors, to kings, to Roman officials who otherwise would never hear the gospel. Paul’s mission is clear: bring the message of Jesus to the heart of the empire. He’s not aiming small—he’s aiming for the center of power. And God’s making a way.

We’ve experienced that too. Maybe not in front of kings, but in everyday conversations where we feel a nudge to speak the name of Jesus—to pray, to encourage, to share. And sometimes, we’re met with rejection. That happened just this week: we offered prayer for someone going through a tough time, and they said no. That doesn’t mean God wasn’t at work. It just means the timing wasn’t right—or the heart wasn’t ready.

We’re learning to ask, “Holy Spirit, what are you doing here?” Because even when the answer is no, we can still be light. We can still carry the presence of Jesus with us into every space, whether it’s a courtroom, a conversation, or a place we wish we weren’t.

Trusting God’s Path (Even When It Looks Like a Detour)

Paul’s appeal to Caesar may seem like a dramatic last resort, but it’s actually the vehicle God uses to send him to Rome. And what looked like a detour was always part of the plan. That’s the thing—we don’t always get to choose our route, but we can trust our destination when God is leading.

So what about us? Are we willing to trust that where we are—no matter how hard or confusing—is a place where God can move? Can we carry the name of Jesus into our own trials, believing that His light in us is stronger than the darkness around us?

Let’s be bold. Let’s be faithful. Let’s speak the name of Jesus wherever we go—not just because we’re told to, but because He’s alive, and His story is still being told through us.