53. L. The Imprisonment and Supposed Trial of Paul in Rome (Acts 28)
L. The Imprisonment and Supposed Trial of Paul in Rome (Acts 28)
It has sometimes been made a charge against the method of investigation which is employed in my study of Luke, that I have pressed too closely the words of the Acts, that I have sought to read too much in (or into) the terms employed, and have laid too much stress on the more delicate features and on the principles of method which can be observed in the book as a whole and which must be applied in reading the individual parts and scenes of the narrative.
After many years of study, however, I have on the contrary learned that I did not carry my method far enough, and that the words and terms of the Acts are far more vivid and full of meaning than I had ventured to suppose. It is not easy to press Luke’s words too closely; and at least I have not done so. With better understanding of the authorities and vast increased knowledge of the country, I now find the history recorded in the Acts much more informative than I previously did; and it seems as if I had only just barely begun in my older writings to appreciate the true value of Luke’s narrative. The whole work of the past has to be done over again. The previous results, on the whole, stand;
There are two questions to be answered: first, what were the main facts? Secondly, why does not Luke mention them or say anything clear and explicit about them, i.e. why does he content himself with stating how the Gospel of Paul came to Rome, and for what length of time it was preached there by him, while he says nothing regarding Paul’s personal fortunes in the trial?
Now, first, as to the facts. Was Paul tried in Rome during his residence? If so, before whom was he tried, and what was the result? Was he condemned on the capital charge, and his career brought to an end? Or was he acquitted, and allowed (as must have been implied in acquittal) to continue his missionary and confirmatory work? In the latter case, the “first trial,” in which the circumstances described in the Acts culminated, must be distinguished from a “second trial” with fatal issue. That a trial of Paul ending in condemnation must have occurred at some time in Rome is proved by tradition and by Clement of Rome, and is clearly implied in Second Timothy. If, however, the supposed “first trial” ended in condemnation after its two or more stages (2 Timothy 4:16), then there was no “second trial,” and the Apostle’s life ended in 61 or 62 A.D. The proof that Gallio was governing Achaia during A.D. 52, which is now furnished by epigraphic evidence, makes it certain that Paul’s arrival in Rome cannot be placed later than spring A.D. 61 at the very latest,
If he was acquitted at first, did he carry out his intention of going on into Spain (Romans 15:28)? Or did he return to the East, as is implied in the Pastoral Epistles? Or did he do both?
Further, a most important question is about the conduct of the Jews of Jerusalem. The action and attitude of the Jews towards Paul in almost every city that he visited is a subject to which Luke gives much space and attention. Not merely in Jerusalem, but also in Damascus, Antioch the Pisidian, Iconium, Lystra, Thessalonica, Corinth, the Jews (apart from a minority in his favour) were his determined opponents, and used all their influence with the Gentile magistrates and leaders against him. In the cities of Cyprus, in Antioch the Syrian, in Athens, in Beroea, the Jews were on the whole favourable to him: as to Antioch and Beroea we know from his narrative (and from Paul himself as regards Antioch) that the Jews were generally with him, all trouble there was caused by outside Jews. In Derbe there were probably no Jews: nothing is said about their action to Paul or his conduct towards them. As regards Derbe, we notice that no person gave any evidence about Timothy, as people in Iconium and Lystra did: he was unknown to them, whereas the Iconian people, having a considerable Jewish element in their number, were interested in him as a half-Jew by race. Gentiles were not naturally interested in the son of a Greek, whose wife chanced to be Jewish, though she had not treated her son after the Jewish fashion in infancy. In Philippi Jewish associations were on the side of Paul, although no Jews are mentioned. All this Luke carefully tells.
It is plain that the relations of the Jews to Paul were considered by Luke to be a very important fact in his narrative. He devotes a considerable part of his history to this subject In Rome the Jews were numerous, as is known from many sources. Luke tells that Paul’s first action when he came to Rome was to enter into communication with them; and twelve verses are devoted to this subject while only three are given to Paul’s circumstances otherwise in Rome. The Jews came in large numbers to hear him, after the leaders had intimated their neutral and non-committal attitude: some of them believed and others did not accept his teaching. Not a word, however, is said about any overt action of the Roman Jews against him.
Now, it is laid down by almost every scholar and commentator that Jewish influence was the one great factor in deciding Paul’s trial. It was a case of Paul against the Jews. There was no accuser except the Jews. The whole tendency of the Romans who were concerned in the case was in favour of Paul, as Luke tells us in chapter after chapter. The one chance for the Jewish accusers lay in exercising private influence with great personages and notably with the Empress Poppaea, who is supposed to have been inclined towards Jewish associations. The question then is this. Are we to suppose that Luke, who elsewhere records so carefully every act of hostility on the part of the Jews to Paul, and who certainly has a certain anti-Jewish bias, — are we to suppose that Luke leaves out this opportunity of completing his account of Jewish opposition by telling that the Jews in Rome turned against him? There was no possibility that the Palestinian Jews could bring influence privately to bear against Paul except through their compatriots in Rome. It was to the Jews of Rome that Poppaea would be inclined to listen, not to strangers from Palestine unsupported by the Roman Jews with whom she was acquainted. Either the Jewish leaders in Rome must have acted against Paul, or this supposed powerful private influence could not have been brought to bear against him.
According to Luke the Jews in Rome preserved from the first an attitude of neutrality. It was, of course, easy for the unbelieving Jews to take part against him, as they did at Iconium; but it is in Luke’s manner to say so, if they did. It is indeed natural that this section of the Jews should take part against him; and, if Luke does not record their action, must not the reason be that there was not in the sequel any opportunity for them to do so? Hence the picture remains, the Jews of Rome were neutral, and took no action against Paul. That is the account given by Luke, Those who say that they did act against Paul in the end ought to show why Luke leaves a wrong impression on this point, abandoning his usual attitude and bias.
There is, however, a third alternative. Neither was Paul formally tried and acquitted at this time, nor was he tried and condemned. He spent two full years in Rome, as Luke says: and then the Roman residence came to an end without any formal trial.
It is characteristic of all Lukan research that, as soon as one enters on any investigation, one is involved in some difficult questions of law and procedure; and these often require much minute study. This, incidentally, affords a complete proof that the subject is thoroughly historical. Invented, or distorted, or misunderstood incidents wander far from the paths of real life. It is because Luke states each point in such intimate relation to reality, and with such vivid surroundings of actual life, that he compels the reader to grasp the facts of law and custom which are involved in the narrative before he can gauge its full significance. To understand the position of Paul during the two years of his Roman captivity, therefore, we have to enter on obscure questions of Roman law and procedure during the first century. Obviously, one cannot adequately understand Luke’s allusive and suggestive account of the circumstances in which a defendant awaiting trial under custody was situated, unless the principles and practice of the law are known. Now, as it happens, legal points are involved which have never been properly investigated, and which seem never to have occurred to the commentators whom I have consulted.
It is, accordingly, necessary to go into some difficult and minute points of legal and historical detail, which may prove tedious to the reader. It may therefore be well to state first of all in succinct terms the conclusion which results from this investigation, and afterwards to show the steps of the reasoning.
Paul was detained at Rome until his prosecutors should appear. The trial could not begin until there was an accuser to state the ground of complaint against him. The Jewish leaders, however, did not appear. They knew that their case was too weak to bear statement in a Roman court, as they had learned from the conduct and words of two successive Roman governors of Palestine and from the plain language of King Agrippa (Acts 24:24 f., ):
Such is the general purport of this section. Now for the details of the reasoning. The situation in which Paul found himself on his arrival in Rome (Acts 28:16) requires careful consideration. He had come up on his own appeal for trial before the supreme tribunal of the Empire. In order that the trial should proceed, there must be some accuser: the Crown did not prosecute, but left such cases to private initiative. When he reached Rome, fully seven to eight months, if not more, must have elapsed since the appeal had been allowed
Such were the possibilities of the situation. What is it that had actually occurred? When he arrived, no accuser was present in Rome. No official representative of the nation, and no letter or message from the national leaders in Jerusalem, had come to “those that were the chief of the Jews” in Rome. The latter had no authoritative information about the case. Their statement in Acts 28:21 must be understood in this way: as officials they had received no documents bearing on the case, nor had any of their Palestinian brethren arrived who were authorised to make accusation or charge against Paul.
It is not uncommon for commentators and moralists to enlarge on the duplicity of the Jewish leaders in Rome, who certainly knew a good deal in an unofficial way. In fact, they by implication in their concluding words acknowledge to Paul that they have heard bad reports concerning him and his hostility to his own nation: those must have been talked about in all Jewish circles throughout the empire. But they were not bound in any way to take official notice of private tales and gossip. They are speaking as officers of their people; and their reply is a complete proof that no person properly authorised, and no letter intimating the coming of any such person, to act as accuser of Paul, had reached Rome. It would be the natural and obligatory course that any national representative should report on arrival to the heads of the nation there. As to the tales, they say that they are ready to hear dispassionately Paul’s side and plea.
It is difficult to see why these words of the rulers should be blamed for duplicity or cunning. Their silence about charges against Paul, except in this slight reference to current talk, amounts simply to a refusal to regard gossip and vague reports as any ground for action or ill-feeling against him. They treat him as a Jew, entitled to the rights and privileges which all Jews could expect from their own nation in a strange city. Their reply to his question is dignified, courteous, and apparently fair. It commits them to nothing; but that is not a ground for blaming them. They profess neutrality and a wish to learn more, as they may have to be, in a sense, judges hereafter in the case. The blame thrown on them for duplicity is founded on the fixed prepossession in the minds of modern scholars that the Roman Jews actively persecuted Paul. Luke, however, never says or hints or suggests this.
Evidently the leaders of the Jews in Palestine were not pressing the case very actively. If they had had any confidence in the success of their case they would probably have ere this been in Rome employing all the arts of skilful solicitors to push their case and secure conviction. Everything for them depended on the favourable reception of their first plea; and it was believed that they were able to use strong indirect influence through the partiality of the powerful Poppaea.
They had, however, no good ground for feeling such confidence. All appearances pointed to a verdict in Paul’s favour, Festus and his assessors evidently thought there was not even a prima facie case against him (Acts 26:30 ff.), though the Governor had gladly used the loophole of Paul’s appeal to the supreme court as an excuse, in order to avoid the responsibility of deciding: he shrank from putting a slight on the national leaders at the beginning of his relations with them, and getting involved in a quarrel, which would certainly be the result if he dismissed their charges as unjustifiable. The expenses involved in carrying this prosecution before the Roman tribunal were considerable; and the Jewish leaders probably thought that it was not worth while to incur them in a case where success was so unlikely. They had got rid of Paul, and made it difficult for him to return to Jerusalem; and they felt that the wiser course was to content themselves with this. After acquittal Paul would be more dangerous to them and more secure against them than if the case were left unfinished. So long as the scandal remained that he was a practically unacquitted defendant, released owing to the accusers having failed to appear so far away from Jerusalem, there would always attach some stigma in the Jewish mind to Paul. The Jews had probably been using their influence to protract the case in Palestine (see Acts 24:26 f.); and certainly the leaders in Palestine had allowed the case to He for several months after Paul’s departure, without taking any steps to appear in Rome.
Now is there any apparent probability that they would revive the case after that interval? In the first place, Luke’s narrative gives no ground to think that envoys arrived to conduct the case in Rome during the two years of Paul’s residence and detention there. And, in the second place, it is not a priori natural or probable that the national leaders in Jerusalem should resume Paul’s case and send envoys later, after they had neglected it for a good many months. They had many more important and pressing matters to keep them occupied. In the immediate irritation caused by the presence of Paul in Jerusalem and the troubles that arose out of it, they had been impelled to take steps against him; and thus succeeded, not in gaining their case, but only in keeping him shut up in the quiet of a prison. Paul’s action in claiming the privileges of a Roman citizen resulted in his case being carried before the Roman governor at Caesareia. The plea against him proved to be poor and thin, when it had to be put in legal form and specific acts proved in open court. On the part of the accusers the case rested on the Roman desire to maintain order. They could calculate that Felix was far more anxious to keep the peace and to avoid disturbance than to aim at justice. They knew, and he knew, that the ability of an official was gauged in Rome mainly by his success in preserving peace and quiet in his province, and that some injustice done to the rights of one individual in the interest of public order would probably escape notice, or if noticed would be pardoned as conducing to the general peace of the province. The speech of the Jewish advocate Tertullus (Acts 24:2 f.) was pitched on this key. He praised the success of Felix in maintaining peace and order. He rested his whole case on the plea that the national leaders would not come before the Governor except for the reason that they had found the prisoner to be a cause of disorder over all the world, since wherever Paul appeared disturbance ensued. Tertullus produced no witnesses, and made no specific charge against Paul, except that of trying to profane the Temple. The plea was simply that, if Felix got rid of Paul, peace would reign; but so long as Paul lived, disorder would abound. This line of argument shows a cynical disregard for justice, except in the fashion that it is expedient for one man to be sacrificed to secure the peace of the nation; but it was one that had force under Roman rule. The only positive charge made against Paul was that he had attempted to profane the Temple. This attempt, however, had been frustrated by the riot. The riot was the weak point in the Jewish position, and it was disguised and palliated by the charge of intended profanation; the riot had been provoked (as they said) by Paul’s supposed intention to profane the Temple. Roman law treated leniently a disturbance arising from profanation of the Temple, and would take little cognisance of it, if peace was restored as soon as the immediate occasion was past. This form of accusation was, probably, the most effective attack that was possible in the circumstances. In no other way could the Jewish authorities make up a case. They had no good ground to stand upon, because they themselves were the real breakers of the Roman law, as being in a sense responsible for the riot; but, as they knew, the weak point in most Roman governors was their eagerness to avoid disturbance and so gain credit for having kept their province free from serious disorder.
If the Jews’ case was weak, it must be admitted that their hand had been forced. The riot had not apparently been planned, but was sudden and unpremeditated (Acts 21:27 f.). Doubtless, the leaders had found on inquiry that they could not base a charge on any act of Paul’s. Certainly, they failed to make any such charge. They only maintained that he had intended to profane the Temple. The very form of the accusation shows that the attempt had been unsuccessful. There was no accomplished act of profanation for them to found upon. Hence they could not bring witnesses to prove any misconduct. The crowd had thought that Paul was bringing Gentiles into the Temple, and had effectually prevented this supposed intention from being executed.
If the Jewish leaders had been free to choose their own time they would doubtless have waited for a better opportunity, but the lawless conduct of the crowd compelled them to act. They had now to explain away the riot, and they did so by attacking the sufferer, and declaring that he was in fault, not only then, but frequently on previous occasions: he wilfully and intentionally outraged the Jewish feelings and violated the religious Law. The weak point of Paul’s case was that disturbance among the Jews dogged his steps, and broke out wherever he was. The Jewish leaders seized on this. “Eliminate Paul,” was their plea to Felix, “and then you will find the Jews quiet and peaceable: believe us that this will be so: you can take this on the faith of us, who are responsible for preserving order.”
Intention to profane could not be proved by witnesses, hence none were offered. The accusation rests on the credibility of the accusers. They, as responsible for order and peaceful conduct in their own nation, declared that Paul’s intentions were suspicious, and that they could not preserve order among their people where Paul came. That seemed legally weak to a governor of the province at the time. It was a case that could hardly be brought forward years afterwards in the Imperial court except as a mere cloak for a concealed attack.
Felix, evidently, felt no doubt about the weakness of the Jewish arguments in the case. He was, however, anxious to keep the leaders of that troublesome nation in good humour, and he had an eye to possible bribes from Paul (who must have appeared to be a man of substance).
Festus evidently shrank as much as Felix had done from offending the Jewish authorities. His proposal to send the case back to the Sanhedrin was manifestly unjust; it was merely a device to please the Jews, and showed stronger leaning to their side than ever Felix had shown. He now seized on this way which Paul’s appeal opened to him of treating the case. If he sent Paul to the Supreme Court he avoided all responsibility and escaped giving offence to the Jews. He therefore, after considering the matter with his consilium or board of assessors, according to the proper form, allowed the appeal and sent it up to the higher tribunal in Rome. At the same time Festus indicated in an extra-judicial way his own opinion on the case. The private conversation between him and Agrippa, in which they agreed that Paul was innocent, became a subject of general talk. The truth is that Festus was not a strong enough man to pronounce a judicial judgment in favour of Paul, and so to alienate Jewish feeling and provoke the enmity of the national leaders. If he had had the moral courage to do so, it was still quite within his power. He was not bound to wash his hands of the case as soon as the appeal was made; but he eagerly seized the chance of shuffling off responsibility.
It is necessary here to refer to an opinion which has been suggested as possible by my friend Professor Vernon Bartlet in his edition of the Acts
Luke too had in mind a certain analogy between the case of Paul and the trial of Jesus. In both instances the Roman judge thought that the accused party was innocent. In each case the judge’s opinion, though expressed in court, was stated in an extra-judicial way and did not influence the result. The judge was weak, and yielded to the influence of the Jews. Pilate thrice declared that Jesus was innocent.
If we are justified in speculating as to a deeper intention which led Luke to quote Agrippa’s statement, the opinion suggests itself that there was during these proceedings a third Roman judicial decision in Paul’s favour. Agrippa was a friend of Rome and a client-king. Felix, Festus and Agrippa pronounced Paul innocent.
All the circumstances which are stated by Luke were equally well known to the Jewish national leaders. Therefore, either Luke’s account is prejudiced and partial, exaggerating the Roman judgment of Paul’s innocence and concealing circumstances which gave reason to look for an adverse decision, or the Jews must have gathered that they had a weak case against Paul and little prospect of success. The best that they could do for their cause was to lengthen out the proceedings, to postpone the final stage of the trial, and to keep Paul as long as possible in custody. His seclusion was a gain to the Jews, whereas to bring on the trial would probably mean the speedy release of the prisoner.
Now in Rome there was one very effective way to keep Paul secluded. If no prosecutor appeared there, the law presumed for a long time that the absence was only temporary, and detained the defendant in expectation of the complainant’s arrival. The Jews therefore played a waiting game. This procedure was clever: it meant success to a certain degree: it was economical for the Jews, and expensive for Paul. That was the line of conduct that imposed itself, and all that Luke records points to that way of action. For the space of two years Paul had to maintain himself and his guards and personal attendants, to hire a house, and to defray the other expenses of living. The custody, however, was of the mildest type. He had not been tried. His trial was not even imminent, for no prosecutors were in Rome. He could see all that chose to visit him, and speak with perfect freedom. Thus there was great opportunity for him to teach and preach. By Luke’s custom,
It is evident and certain that during this period of two years no trial occurred. Such freedom of action as Paul enjoyed is inconsistent with the procedure of a trial on a capital charge. Especially is it totally and absolutely inconsistent with a trial such as is implied in Second Timothy, a trial which evidently was accompanied by confinement in a prison, by almost complete solitude, by depression and even fear in Paul’s heart.
It must, of course, be understood that the detention was always of the nature of mild detention.
Hence the letters composed during this detention vary in tone. Paul writes as a prisoner in bonds; he is in affliction and suffering; and yet he is fairly confident that he will be set free and be able shortly to visit Philippi and Colossae.
Luke’s account leaves no opening for the idea that after two years the trial came on, passed through its stages amid strict detention, anxiety and solitude, to its issue in condemnation and death.
Now what was the rule and procedure of the Roman law, when a case came up on appeal from a province and the prosecution did not put in an appearance? The Crown did not prosecute. The Crown waited the action of the private prosecutors. Until the Jewish representatives appeared nothing could take place, except that the defendant was detained in view of future trial; and the case of Paul may serve as proof that ordinarily the detention of such defendants was of the mildest type.
How long would this continue? Was the defendant kept in custody, even of a mild kind, far from home and friends, for as long time as the prosecutors chose to delay? Evidently there must have been some term, for indefinite detention of a Roman citizen at the instance of despised foreigners who never appeared to push their case is inconceivable and inadmissible. Was the term fixed by formal law, or was it left to the defendant to claim release after a certain delay?
We are imperfectly informed on this subject, but yet the evidence is sufficient to justify a confident statement. In this matter I am indebted to Professor J. S. Reid, of Cambridge, for kindly placing his minute learning and long study of the subject at my disposal. In the third century the procedure had been already settled by custom or enactment; and definite rules existed about the time within which a prosecutor in a case transferred to Rome must carry out the prosecution: for noncapital charges six months were allowed if the appeal was from Italy, nine months if from the provinces: for capital charges the times were twelve and eighteen months respectively. The longest term would apply in a case like Paul’s.
How long had these rules been in existence? and is there any reason to think that these or some such principles had been formulated, and the same or other limits fixed, in the time of Paul?
There can be no doubt that some limitation of the period allowed for prosecutors to appear became necessary as soon as cases began to occur in which no prosecutor appeared. A presumption arose that in such circumstances they had no good ground to stand on, and after a certain time probably this presumption would have almost the force of an acquittal. As Professor Reid says, “one would suppose that some rules of the kind must have been laid down very soon after the right of appeal to Rome began to be allowed.”
Some term, therefore, was necessary to prevent flagrant injustice. The Romans were skilful in using the forms of law in order to harass an opponent. Philo supplies a case in point, where he tells that a certain Lampon of Alexandria had been accused of disrespect to the Emperor Tiberius, and the proceedings were protracted for two years by Flaccus, the Prefect of Egypt, in order to keep Lampon in terror of death.
It would appear from the two accounts of Claudius’s proceedings that his action was an innovation. Suetonius speaks of it as if it were strange and unprecedented, and makes this a charge against the Emperor. We see, however, that an action and a principle were urgently required. Be that as it may, the principle and the term were fixed by Imperial action before Paul entered Rome. At the expiry of a certain period the case against him fell, and he was set free. For the third time in this case the Roman law determined in his favour. From this conclusion I can see no escape. It is inexorably determined by the historical facts and by the established principles of the Roman law.
Why, then, does not Luke say this in so many words? To this I would answer that the issue is implicit in the narrative: the final chapter, and the whole story of the trial, point to this solution. Just as the narrative is overcast with gloom and bad omen during the final journey to Jerusalem, and the reader is filled with the thought of evil, so from the time that Paul leaves Palestine the narrative becomes brighter and happier. Even in Jerusalem the prospect of escape lay in the thought of Rome: see Acts 23:11, “As thou hast testified at Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also at Rome”. Riot and plots of assassination, imprisonment and guards, surrounded him at Jerusalem. But on the voyage, as soon as it began, the officer who commanded the convoy showed marked kindness to his prisoner, allowing him to go on shore to recruit after a rough passage;
Only in one detail has an omen of trial been found. As Paul says on shipboard (Acts 27:24), a messenger of God not only promised him the lives of all his shipmates, but also said, “Thou must stand before Cæsar”. This has been regarded as foreboding misfortune and condemnation; but there is no warrant for this interpretation of the words. It is here mentioned by Paul as an encouragement to his hearers. He knew already that he must bear witness in Rome to the Gospel. The “appearing before Caesar” is not a terror, but an omen of good. To stand before kings is the expression, not of misfortune, but of honour. But does this not forbode a trial as the issue of the journey? Certainly it does. The procedure of Claudius ruled the case as a precedent. As no accuser appeared, the trial ended in a verdict of acquittal, not in a mere dismissal of the accused. In ordinary appeals it cannot be supposed that the Emperor had time to preside in person at the trial; but it is not improbable that, where the issue was assured and the verdict certain without a trial and without loss of time, the Emperor may have himself pronounced judgment. The historians’ account of Claudius’s procedure in such cases suggests that he during his reign intervened personally; and his successor may have followed the precedent: it was easy, and likely to be popular, to pardon.
Why, then, does not Luke clinch his case by recording the acquittal more definitely? We must understand that the real climax, as it seemed to Luke, is recorded. The free and bold preaching in Rome is the consummation of the narrative of Book II, though not the consummation of the work as a whole. The personal fortunes of even Paul are a secondary matter in comparison with the bringing of the Pauline Gospel into the capital of the Empire.
But, further, as I have always maintained from the time when I began to understand Luke’s method, the history is not ended. The story of the working of the Spirit in the Church and in the world was not confined to one book, the second of the whole work, but was continuing according to the plan of this great history. No third book was ever written. The second, perhaps, had not received the final touches from the author’s hand. If the second book had been intended to be the last it would have concluded with some expression indicative of the future that lay before the Church outside the limits of this history. As it is, it ends with a forward reference: it stops abruptly in the middle of an action: it shows that the narrative is to go on. It points on to Book III as clearly as Book I. points on to Book III by its abrupt ending, and as Book II points back to Book I by repeating and completing the account of the last action in that Book, viz. the Ascension. The last action described in Book II is to be resumed and completed in Book III. When the legal term was reached the trial was formally ended, and a new period ensued in the career of the Apostle and of the Church: missionary work had gone through a series of legal proceedings extending over four years, and had emerged triumphant from the ordeal, while its enemies had failed. At the beginning of Book II, in the very first words,
