“And as he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee. He hoped also that money should have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him: wherefore he sent for him the oftener, and communed with him. But after two years Porcius Festus came into Felix' room: and Felix, willing to shew the Jews a pleasure, left Paul bound.” (Acts 24:25-27)
Felix came to Paul while he was a prisoner, and though Paul was bound in chains, it was Felix who was truly bound—in sin. Paul, exercising his liberty in Christ, effectively bound Felix to his sin nature, bringing him before the high court of heaven and pronouncing him guilty. The man in chains, by the power of the gospel, was as free as any man could be, while the man who rode in on the finest horse, dined on the finest meals, and could travel anywhere in the world found himself subject—not to iron bars or chains—but to mere words from the mouth of an incarcerated preacher. Oh, the power of the gospel to make men free, no matter their situation! And oh, the power of the gospel to lock men in their lost condition, no matter their earthly status!
What was Felix’s response? He couldn’t bear to think of righteousness, for history tells us he was an unrighteous man. He couldn’t bear to think of temperance, for he had none. And worst of all, he couldn’t bear to think of the judgment to come. Felix had known what it was to sit in judgment over men, but he had yet to stand in judgment himself. I wonder if he thought of all those who had passed under his judgment—how he had ruled them not with justice but with corruption, according to his own agenda. Did it dawn on him that one day he would pass under the eyes of the Judge of all creation? Surely, such a thought was enough to make the strongest constitution tremble.
But his answer was, in essence, "Not today." The season wasn’t convenient. Perhaps once he had settled some other affairs that required a hardened heart, he would be ready to receive a tender and loving one. But such a heart at such a time as this would surely interfere with his plans. So it wasn’t a "no"—just a "not today."
Verses 26 and 27 reveal that for the next two years, Felix remained in contact with Paul. It seems that God, in His grace, took Felix at his word, giving him many opportunities to follow through on what he had said that first night of conviction. But then comes that little conjunction: “But.”
"But after two years Porcius Festus came into Felix’ room: and Felix, willing to shew the Jews a pleasure, left Paul bound."
After two years, whatever good intentions Felix had were replaced with something he deemed better than friendship with God—friendship with the world. Let this be a grave warning to us. Good intentions often seek an escape route—we may plan to do what is right, but intentions alone accomplish nothing. If God has brought you to a place of conviction and you are putting Him off, you are treading on dangerous ground. Any day now, the door of opportunity may close. Your heart is growing harder and colder toward that conviction which once made you tremble. Soon, your story may be:
"He was going to do what God wanted, but..."
"He had opportunity for repentance, but..."
"He would have been saved, but..."
Feeling sorry for sin and trembling under the weight of it is good—but our passage proves it is not enough if it does not move you to repentance and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Orpah was guilty of the same thing. She shed tears of sorrow, but in the end, she turned back to her gods.
Whoever you are, your tears and trembling mean nothing if they do not move you to cleave to Christ, refusing to be denied—just as Ruth did. Today is the day you must decide whether to cleave or to leave. Do not think there will be a more convenient time than now, while your heart is heavy and burdened.
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