Chapter 26
Paul’s Opening Address to Agrippa
1 And Agrippa said to Paul, “You are permitted to speak on your own behalf.” Then Paul stretched out his hand and began his defense:
2 “Regarding all the things of which I am accused by the Jews, King Agrippa, I consider myself fortunate that I am about to make my defense before you today,
3 especially because you are an expert in all the customs and controversies of the Jews. Therefore I beg you to listen to me patiently.
Translator’s Notes — vv. 1–3:
ἐκτείνας τὴν χεῖρα (ekteinas tēn cheira) — v.1: “Stretched out his hand” — this is the classic gesture of a Greek orator beginning a formal speech. The extended hand commands attention and signals the beginning of structured rhetoric. It’s the same gesture Paul used in Acts 21:40 before addressing the Jerusalem mob. But the context is radically different: there he was battered and bleeding on a staircase; here he stands in an audience hall before royalty and Roman officials. The gesture is the same; the stage has been transformed.
vv.2–3: Unlike the perfunctory flattery Tertullus offered Felix (24:2–4), Paul’s compliment to Agrippa is substantive and accurate. Agrippa really was an expert in Jewish affairs. He held custodianship of the Jerusalem temple, appointed the high priest, and had been raised in the imperial household in Rome alongside Jewish princes. He was the most qualified person in the room to evaluate a case involving Jewish theology. Paul’s compliment is genuine, and it sets the rhetorical strategy for the entire speech: this is a presentation aimed at someone who will actually understand the Jewish context.
μακροθύμως (makrothymōs) — v.3: “Patiently” — literally “with long-temperedness.” Paul is asking for an extended hearing, and the request signals that what follows will be more than a legal brief — it will be a personal testimony. This is the longest and most detailed of Paul’s three conversion accounts, and he tailors it for an audience that combines Jewish knowledge (Agrippa) with Roman authority (Festus) and high-society curiosity (Bernice and the civic elite).
Paul’s Life as a Pharisee
4 “So then, all the Jews know my manner of life from my youth, which from the beginning was spent among my own nation and in Jerusalem.
5 They have known me for a long time, if they are willing to testify, that I lived as a Pharisee according to the strictest sect of our religion.
6 And now I stand on trial for the hope of the promise made by God to our fathers,
7 the promise that our twelve tribes, earnestly serving God night and day, hope to attain. It is for this hope, O King, that I am being accused by the Jews.
8 Why is it considered incredible among you if God raises the dead?
Translator’s Notes — vv. 4–8:
τὴν ἀκριβεστάτην αἵρεσιν (tēn akribestatēn hairesin) — v.5: “The strictest sect” — the superlative ἀκριβεστάτην (akribestatēn) means “the most precise,” “the most exacting.” This is the same assessment Josephus gives: the Pharisees were the most rigorous interpreters of Jewish law. Paul is establishing that his starting point was not casual religiosity but the most demanding form of Jewish practice available.
vv.6–7: Paul reframes the entire case with a single rhetorical move. He is not on trial for violating the Law; he is on trial for believing in the fulfillment of its central promise. The “hope of the promise made by God to our fathers” is the promise of resurrection and messianic redemption — the hope that animated all of Israel. The reference to “our twelve tribes earnestly serving God night and day” is sweeping: Paul is claiming continuity with all of Israel, not a sectarian offshoot. His argument to Agrippa is the same as to the Sanhedrin, but more eloquent: I am being prosecuted for believing what every faithful Jew hopes for.
τί ἄπιστον κρίνεται παρ’ ὑμῖν (ti apiston krinetai par’ hymin) — v.8: “Why is it considered incredible among you if God raises the dead?” — this is the pivot question of the entire speech, and Paul directs it not just to Agrippa but to “you” (plural, ὑμῖν) — the whole audience. The logic is disarming: if you believe in God at all (and Agrippa does), then resurrection is not a category error — it’s a question of whether God chose to do it. The question reframes the debate from “is resurrection possible?” to “would God do this?” Paul is shifting the burden of proof.
Paul’s Persecution of the Church
9 “I myself was once convinced that I ought to do many things in opposition to the name of Jesus the Nazarene.
10 And this is what I did in Jerusalem. Not only did I lock up many of the saints in prison, having received authority from the chief priests, but when they were being put to death, I cast my vote against them.
11 And in synagogue after synagogue I punished them often and tried to force them to blaspheme. And being furiously enraged at them, I pursued them even to foreign cities.
Translator’s Notes — vv. 9–11:
ἔδοξα ἐμαυτῷ δεῖν (edoxa emautō dein) — v.9: “I myself was once convinced that I ought” — the language is deeply personal. ἔδοξα means “I thought,” “I was of the opinion.” The word δεῖν (“it was necessary”) reveals that Paul’s persecution was not casual malice but a matter of moral conviction — he believed it was his duty. This makes his conversion all the more dramatic: the change was not from indifference to faith but from one passionate conviction to another.
κατήνεγκα ψῆφον (katēnegka psēphon) — v.10: “I cast my vote against them” — literally “I brought down a pebble.” Voting in ancient courts was done by depositing a pebble (white for acquittal, black for conviction). The phrase raises a historical question: was Paul actually a member of the Sanhedrin? If taken literally, this verse implies he held a vote, which would require Sanhedrin membership. If so, he was likely married at some point (a requirement for membership according to some traditions), though no wife appears anywhere in his letters or Acts. Alternatively, “casting a vote” may be figurative, meaning he gave his approval or supported the process, consistent with Acts 8:1 (“Saul was in hearty agreement with putting him to death”). Either way, Paul’s involvement was active, not passive.
ἀναγκάζων βλασφημεῖν (anankazōn blasphēmein) — v.11: “Tried to force them to blaspheme” — this detail is found only in this account and is deeply disturbing. Paul didn’t just imprison believers; he tortured them to force them to curse Jesus. The word ἀναγκάζων (anankazōn, “forcing,” “compelling”) implies coercion through punishment. Βλασφημεῖν means “to speak profanely” — to curse or deny Christ. This is Paul at his worst, and he does not soften it. He is building the case for the magnitude of his transformation: the further he was gone, the more powerful the force that turned him around.
περισσῶς ἐμμαινόμενος (perissōs emmainomenos) — v.11: “Furiously enraged” — ἐμμαίνομαι (emmainomai) means “to be mad,” “to be insane with fury.” Combined with the intensifier περισσῶς (“exceedingly,” “beyond measure”), Paul is describing himself as having been beyond rational — driven by a frenzy of religious violence. His honesty about his former self is brutal and serves a rhetorical purpose: only an overwhelming encounter could have redirected this level of fury.
The Damascus Road
12 “While so engaged, I was journeying to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests,
13 when at midday, O King, I saw on the road a light from heaven brighter than the sun, blazing around me and those traveling with me.
14 And when we had all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’
15 And I said, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ And the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.
16 But get up and stand on your feet; for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to appoint you as a servant and a witness both of the things you have seen and of the things in which I will appear to you,
17 rescuing you from the Jewish people and from the Gentiles, to whom I am sending you,
18 to open their eyes so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the dominion of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and an inheritance among those who have been sanctified by faith in me.’
Translator’s Notes — vv. 12–18:
This is the third and fullest account of Paul’s conversion. In chapter 9, Luke narrated it. In chapter 22, Paul told it to a Jewish mob. Here, he tells it to a king. Each telling adds unique details. This version includes the proverb about kicking against goads (v.14) and the fullest statement of Paul’s commission (vv.16–18). The additions are not contradictions; they are expansions appropriate to the audience.
σκληρόν σοι πρὸς κέντρα λακτίζειν (sklēron soi pros kentra laktizein) — v.14: “It is hard for you to kick against the goads” — this proverb is absent from the accounts in chapters 9 and 22. A κέντρον (kentron) is a sharp-pointed stick used to drive oxen. The image is of an animal kicking backward against the prod that is directing it — the more it resists, the more it hurts itself. The proverb was well known in Greek literature (it appears in Euripides, Aeschylus, and Pindar) and would have been immediately recognizable to the educated Gentile members of Paul’s audience. Addressed to Agrippa and the Roman officials, the Greek literary allusion is a deliberate rhetorical choice — Paul is signaling classical education. But the theological implication is profound: Paul’s persecution was not just wrong; it was resistance against a force that was already directing him. The goad implies that God had been prodding Paul long before Damascus.
v.14: The detail that the voice spoke “in the Hebrew language” (τῇ Ἑβραΐδι διαλέκτῳ, i.e., Aramaic) is mentioned only in this account. Speaking to Agrippa (who knew both Greek and Aramaic), Paul specifies the language because it identifies the voice as Jewish, not Greco-Roman. The risen Jesus spoke in the language of the patriarchs.
vv.16–18: In this version, the entire commission is placed in the Damascus road encounter itself, compressed into one speech from Jesus. In chapter 9, some of this was communicated through Ananias; in chapter 22, through Ananias and the later temple vision. Here, Paul streamlines: everything comes directly from the Lord. The rhetorical effect is force and immediacy — Paul received his orders from Jesus himself, face to face, in a single encounter. This compression is not dishonest; it’s oratorical. Paul is giving the king the concentrated essence of his calling.
ἀνοῖξαι ὀφθαλμοὺς αὐτῶν (anoixai ophthalmous autōn) — v.18: “To open their eyes” — the commission echoes Isaiah 42:6–7, the Servant of the LORD passage: “I have appointed you as a covenant to the people, as a light to the nations, to open blind eyes.” Paul’s mission is framed in the language of the Isaianic Servant. The fourfold description that follows is one of the most concentrated statements of gospel purpose in the New Testament: (1) turn from darkness to light, (2) turn from the dominion of Satan to God, (3) receive forgiveness of sins, (4) receive an inheritance among the sanctified. Four transitions, from old state to new. The entire gospel compressed into a single sentence.
v.17: “Rescuing you from the Jewish people and from the Gentiles” — the word ἐξαιρούμενός (exairoumenos, “delivering,” “rescuing”) echoes God’s words to Moses at the burning bush and to Jeremiah at his commissioning (Jeremiah 1:8). Paul’s calling is placed in the prophetic lineage. And the promise of rescue is being fulfilled in the very room where Paul stands: the Jewish authorities wanted him dead, and the Roman system is carrying him to safety in Rome.
Paul’s Obedient Response
19 “Therefore, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision,
20 but I declared first to those in Damascus and then in Jerusalem, and throughout the whole region of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, performing deeds consistent with repentance.
21 For this reason the Jews seized me in the temple and tried to kill me.
22 So having obtained help from God, I stand to this day testifying to both small and great, saying nothing beyond what the Prophets and Moses said would happen —
23 that the Messiah would suffer, that as the first to rise from the dead, he would proclaim light both to the Jewish people and to the Gentiles.”
Translator’s Notes — vv. 19–23:
οὐκ ἐγενόμην ἀπειθής (ouk egenomēn apeithēs) — v.19: “I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision” — this is another litotes (understatement): “I was not disobedient” means “I obeyed completely.” The phrase τῇ οὐρανίῳ ὀπτασίᾳ (“the heavenly vision”) is a phrase of weight and finality. Paul is saying: I saw what I saw, and I had no choice but to respond. The implication for Agrippa is unavoidable: if you were shown the same thing, what would you do?
v.20: Paul summarizes his entire missionary career in a single sentence, and the geographical structure matches the programmatic outline of Acts 1:8: “Jerusalem, Judea, and to the ends of the earth.” Damascus, Jerusalem, Judea, then the Gentiles. His obedience to the heavenly vision has taken the shape of the book Luke is writing. The narrative and the speech align.
v.22: “Testifying to both small and great” — the “small and great” are standing in the room. The common soldiers are the “small”; the king, governor, and tribunes are the “great.” Paul is testifying to them right now, in this very speech. The line breaks the fourth wall.
εἰ παθητὸς ὁ χριστός (ei pathētos ho christos) — v.23: “That the Messiah would suffer” — the adjective παθητός (pathētos) means “subject to suffering,” “capable of suffering.” The idea of a suffering Messiah was deeply controversial in Jewish thought. Most messianic expectation centered on a victorious, Davidic king. The claim that the Messiah would suffer was the distinctive Christian reinterpretation of passages like Isaiah 53 and Psalm 22. Paul is claiming this reinterpretation comes not from Christian innovation but from Moses and the Prophets themselves.
πρῶτος ἐξ ἀναστάσεως νεκρῶν (prōtos ex anastaseōs nekrōn) — v.23: “As the first to rise from the dead” — πρῶτος (prōtos, “first”) implies others will follow. Jesus’s resurrection is not an isolated miracle but the beginning of a process — what Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:20 calls “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” The resurrection is a door, not a dead end.
v.23: “He would proclaim light” — the Messiah himself, through his resurrection, becomes the proclamation. The grammar is unusual: the risen Messiah is the one who proclaims light, both to Jews and Gentiles. Light imagery runs throughout Luke-Acts, from Simeon’s prophecy (“a light for revelation to the Gentiles,” Luke 2:32) to Paul’s commission (“to turn from darkness to light,” v.18). Paul ends his theological argument exactly where it began in v.18: with light.
Festus Interrupts
24 And as he was saying these things in his defense, Festus said in a loud voice, “You are out of your mind, Paul! Your great learning is driving you insane!”
25 But Paul said, “I am not insane, most excellent Festus; rather, I am speaking words of truth and sound reason.
26 For the king knows about these things, and I speak to him freely, since I am persuaded that none of these things has escaped his notice — for this was not done in a corner.
27 King Agrippa, do you believe the Prophets? I know that you believe.”
28 And Agrippa said to Paul, “In so short a time are you trying to make me a Christian?”
29 And Paul said, “I would pray to God that whether in a short time or a long time, not only you but also all who hear me today would become such as I am — except for these chains.”
Translator’s Notes — vv. 24–29:
μαίνῃ, Παῦλε (mainē, Paule) — v.24: “You are out of your mind, Paul!” — μαίνομαι (mainomai) means “to be mad,” “to rave.” Festus cannot follow Paul’s argument about prophetic fulfillment and resurrection, and his Roman pragmatism snaps. The outburst is loud (μεγάλῃ τῇ φωνῇ, “with a great voice”) — Festus shouts across the audience hall, interrupting a speech before the king. The breach of protocol reveals genuine alarm. The reference to “great learning” (τὰ πολλά γράμματα, “your many letters/books”) is inadvertently complimentary — Festus acknowledges Paul’s erudition even while dismissing his sanity.
σωφροσύνης ῥήματα (sōphrosynēs rhēmata) — v.25: “Words of truth and sound reason” — σωφροσύνη (sōphrosynē) is one of the cardinal virtues in Greek philosophy: soundness of mind, rational self-control. Paul counters the charge of madness with the most respected Greek philosophical term for sanity. He is not raving; he is speaking with the disciplined rationality that Greek culture most valued.
οὐ γάρ ἐστιν ἐν γωνίᾳ πεπραγμένον τοῦτο (ou gar estin en gōnia pepragmenon touto) — v.26: “This was not done in a corner” — one of the most famous lines in Acts. Paul is asserting that the events of Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection were public, verifiable, and known. Jerusalem was a major city; the crucifixion happened under Roman authority; the empty tomb was a matter of public record. The Christian claim is not based on esoteric visions in a private room but on events that occurred in the full light of history. Paul is challenging anyone in the room to investigate.
v.27: Paul turns directly to Agrippa and asks the most loaded question in the entire speech: “Do you believe the Prophets?” The trap is elegant. If Agrippa says yes, Paul’s argument from prophetic fulfillment has an opening. If Agrippa says no, he alienates his Jewish subjects. Paul doesn’t wait for an answer: “I know that you believe.” He answers for Agrippa, publicly, before the king can equivocate. It’s one of the most audacious rhetorical moves in the New Testament — a prisoner in chains telling a king what he believes.
ἐν ὀλίγῳ με πείθεις Χριστιανὸν ποιῆσαι (en oligō me peitheis Christianon poiēsai) — v.28: Agrippa’s reply is one of the most debated lines in Acts. The traditional translation “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian” (KJV) gives a romantic, nearly-converted reading. But the Greek is more likely deflective or ironic: “In so short a time are you trying to make me a Christian?” or “With so little effort you think to make me a Christian?” The phrase ἐν ὀλίγῳ (en oligō) means “in a little” — whether “a little time,” “a little effort,” or “a few words” is ambiguous. Agrippa is dodging, not converting. He has been cornered by Paul’s question about the Prophets and sidesteps with a quip. The tone is wry, half-amused, half-uncomfortable.
v.28: The word “Christian” (Χριστιανός) appears only three times in the entire New Testament (Acts 11:26, 26:28, 1 Peter 4:16). It was originally an outsider’s label, formed on the Latin pattern (like Caesariani, Pompeiani) meaning “partisans of Christ.” Agrippa uses it as an external category — “that kind of person” — not as a term of self-identification.
v.29: Paul’s reply is one of the most gracious and moving lines he ever speaks. He turns Agrippa’s deflection into an earnest wish: I want everyone in this room to become what I am. The final phrase — “except for these chains” (παρεκτὸς τῶν δεσμῶν τούτων) — is devastating. Paul lifts his chained hands. The gesture says: I have everything I need — truth, purpose, hope, the God of my fathers — except freedom. And even without freedom, I would not trade places with any of you. The chains, displayed before kings and governors, become his final argument.
The Verdict
30 Then the king stood up, and the governor, and Bernice, and those sitting with them.
31 And when they had withdrawn, they began talking to one another, saying, “This man is doing nothing deserving death or imprisonment.”
32 And Agrippa said to Festus, “This man could have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar.”
Translator’s Notes — vv. 30–32:
v.30: The king stands first, signaling that the hearing is over. The protocol is precise: when the king rises, everyone rises. The abruptness suggests that Paul’s final words — the wish that they would all become like him, chains excepted — left the room without a comfortable response. What do you say to that? You stand up.
v.31: The private verdict is unanimous and unambiguous: “This man is doing nothing deserving death or imprisonment.” This is now the fourth Roman assessment of Paul’s innocence: Claudius Lysias found no charge deserving death (23:29), Felix reached no verdict but found no reason to convict (24:22–26), Festus found nothing deserving death (25:25), and now Agrippa concurs. The cumulative weight of these assessments is part of Luke’s larger argument: the Roman system, for all its corruption and delay, consistently finds Christianity not guilty.
ἀπολελύσθαι ἐδύνατο (apolelysthai edynato) — v.32: “This man could have been set free” — Agrippa’s statement is one of the most bittersweet lines in Acts. Paul is innocent. Everyone knows it. But the appeal to Caesar, once made, cannot be withdrawn. The legal mechanism that will carry Paul to Rome — and to his ultimate testimony before the imperial court — is also the mechanism that prevents his release. From a human perspective, the appeal was a miscalculation: Paul could have walked free. From Luke’s theological perspective, it was the fulfillment of the divine “must” (23:11). The road to Rome runs through an irrevocable legal procedure.
v.32: There is also a note of political convenience in Agrippa’s observation. Neither he nor Festus has to take responsibility for releasing Paul and potentially angering the Jewish leadership. The appeal to Caesar conveniently removes the decision from their hands. They can express sympathy for Paul’s innocence while allowing the system to carry him away. Agrippa’s remark is generous but costs him nothing.
General Notes on the Chapter
Acts 26 is the rhetorical climax of the book. Every speech skill Paul possesses is deployed: classical oratorical form, rabbinic scriptural argument, Greek literary allusion (the goads proverb), personal testimony, logical reasoning, and emotional appeal. The speech moves from autobiography through conversion narrative to theological argument to direct personal challenge, building to the final image of the chained prisoner wishing freedom for his audience. It is, by any standard, one of the great speeches in ancient literature.
The three conversion accounts (chapters 9, 22, 26) form a triptych at the heart of Acts. Chapter 9 is the narrator’s account. Chapter 22 is Paul’s account for a Jewish audience. Chapter 26 is Paul’s account for a royal and Roman audience. Each version emphasizes different elements while maintaining the same core: a light, a voice, a commission. The repetition is not carelessness; it is Luke’s way of saying that this event is the interpretive key to everything. Paul’s conversion is told three times because it is the hinge on which the entire narrative turns.
The exchange between Paul and Agrippa (vv.27–29) is one of the great dramatic moments in the New Testament. Paul corners Agrippa with a question he can’t safely answer. Agrippa deflects with a quip. Paul responds with a wish so sincere and so humanly vulnerable — “except for these chains” — that it leaves the room in silence. The king stands up. The hearing is over. Nobody has been converted. But nobody has been able to dismiss the prisoner, either. Paul has done what the vision in 23:11 required: he has testified. The result is not in his hands.
Agrippa’s final remark — “he could have been set free” — is the human perspective on the story. The divine perspective is the opposite: Paul could not have been set free, because Rome is where he must go. The tension between these two readings is not resolved in Acts; it is held. Luke lets both truths stand. Paul is innocent and should be free. Paul is destined for Rome and cannot be free. Both are true. The narrative lives in the space between them.