(3) Access to Paul

(3) Access to Paul

(3) Access to Paul

Probably none of Luke’s original audience would be surprised by the young man’s access to Paul. Ancient literature is replete with visits to prisoners to offer comfort or food (see comment on Acts 24:23).[1589] Many in antiquity would know the stories of Socrates’s friends visiting and conversing with him before his execution; early Christian tradition (Luke 3:20; 7:18–19; also Matt 11:2; 25:36, 39, 43–44) and experience (Phil 2:25, 30; 4:10, 15; Phlm 9–13; 2 Tim 1:16–17; Col 4:3, 7–14; cf. Heb 13:3) kept this aspect of ancient life at the fore. The young man is a relative, which would not be suspicious or thought to endanger the prisoner; further, he may, like Paul, be a Roman citizen[1590] from a prominent Jerusalem family, which might also help his persuasiveness with the guards.

Access to prisoners was normally at the discretion of prison keepers, who normally refused access at night and often required bribes.[1591] The situation might be easier for Paul here: he has not been convicted; since Acts 22:30 and 23:10, his custody has been protective rather than penal; he is a Roman citizen; and this is “military custody in a barracks,” not in a prison.[1592] (Nor was the Antonia any mere barracks; it was a refurbished palace.)[1593] Normally guests had “relatively easy” access if the prisoner was in light detention, especially “under house arrest” (cf. 28:17, 30), though access still remained at the detainers’ discretion.[1594]

That Paul can converse privately with his nephew (23:16–22) and can call a centurion suggests that his accommodations within the Antonia may be of the best order available—namely, as Rapske suggests, “the senior officers’ quarters at the fortress.” Even if he is not in these quarters, apparently “the officers have orders to accommodate him and grant his reasonable requests.”[1595] Paul’s “lightened custody is the measure of the Tribune’s embarrassment and fear” over his previous missteps.[1596] The centurion would not want to deviate from the tribune’s orders. Although centurions came in different ranks in a legion,[1597] the detachment in the Antonia would not be the legion’s first cohort (which was surely not in Judea anyway); there is no indication that this centurion is of higher-than-usual rank.

As noted, most prison keepers would not allow guests at night,[1598] but Paul is not the normal prisoner nor is this the normal prison. More important, it may well not yet be dark when the youth visits (though this was the most discreet time to visit a free person).[1599] Even by the time the youth has reported to Paul and obtained access to the tribune, there is still time to prepare a detachment by the third hour of the night (23:23);[1600] the youth’s coming has apparently not disturbed anyone’s sleep.

Would anyone be permitted access to Paul, given the death threats? A relative or other safe person might naturally be admitted. It is safer that no one knows that the young man is Paul’s relative (hence simply “this young man” in 23:17–18, but Luke calls him this throughout the narrative, 23:22), and so some scholars propose that he may be admitted to Paul not because of his genetic relationship but because he is young.[1601] But youths (and even children) are in the forefront of numerous wars today;[1602] there is simply no way to assume that youth automatically meant harmlessness (or that none of the conspirators of 23:12 are youths as well).[1603] Further, the youthfulness mentioned here may refer to an age in the early twenties, not necessarily restricted to the teens.[1604] More likely, the guards trust Paul’s discretion to admit him (again, he is in protective custody); it is possible that the nephew identified himself to the guards who would bring word to Paul, which would be the reason his politically sensitive message (23:20–21) must be kept private (23:17–19).

Some contrast the nephew’s explicit access to Paul with Luke’s silence about other visitors, suggesting that the Jerusalem church failed to help him.[1605] But as noted above, not everyone would have equally ready access to Paul. Moreover, not everyone would have felt comfortable (except under the most urgent of circumstances) to enter the Antonia and face the questioning from soldiers that gaining access would minimally entail. It is also possible that Paul’s family knew the situation and could act quickly because he (though not the entire delegation) was lodging with them (though this can be only a guess). Others may have planned to visit yet been taken by surprise at Paul’s unexpectedly rapid transfer to Caesarea. Finally, this is not a very defensible argument from silence. Should we assume that no other friends visited him, even in Caesarea (where they are welcomed, 24:23), because they are not specified? (If only those explicitly mentioned visited him, Paul might well have gone hungry for two years in Caesarea; also, this would require that at least two friends suddenly gained courage to accompany him only after he was sent for a trial before Caesar [27:2].) Rather, Luke reports only the nephew because it is precisely the nephew who comes with information. The leak probably would not have been shared with most Jerusalem believers (many of whom were probably misinformed about and embarrassed by Paul, in any case), but a family contact could be discreet.

II. SENDING THE INFORMANT TO LYSIAS (23:17–18)

Paul’s sending his nephew to the tribune tells us more than we might at first suspect.

(1) Trusting the Tribune

Paul’s nephew could not have known that the tribune would support him and keep his identity secret from the conspirators (though he would presume him not privy to the plot, 23:15); insofar as he knew, the tribune might even willingly betray Paul for political reasons (cf. 24:27). An assassination would quietly remove the problem of his earlier treatment of Paul, so that neither he nor the Sanhedrin could be accused (cf. 23:20–21). As noted, Josephus later writes that Felix himself paid an aristocrat to have a high priest killed by bandits (Ant. 20.163);[1606] although his source (probably hearsay) may or may not be accurate, it reveals the level of mistrust generated in these years.

Paul sends his nephew on to the tribune. Although the nephew does not know Lysias’s character, Paul by now knows that he can sufficiently trust Lysias to protect him (Acts 23:10; cf. 22:29).[1607] Lysias seems efficient or at least politically astute, and he has more to gain by protecting a Roman citizen (cf. 23:27) and more to lose by the death of a prisoner in custody (along with, probably, some guards) than allowing the plot to proceed would be worth.[1608] By receiving Paul’s implicit request for help,[1609] the tribune also assumes the role of Paul’s benefactor, for which he would certainly expect gratitude, as social codes demanded.[1610] Mediterranean culture counted gratitude an essential moral obligation.[1611] Receiving favors incurred obligation,[1612] and ingratitude was a terrible social offense.[1613] Once Lysias has rescued Paul (now for the third time, and the second time knowingly), he need not worry that Paul will embarrass him.[1614]

The swift action of the narrative omits any report of Paul’s feelings,[1615] but he responds practically and efficiently, undoubtedly at least encouraged by Jesus’s words the preceding night (23:11).

(2) The Need for Discretion

By not identifying the young man as his nephew, Paul remains discreet; his informant’s identity must remain as secret as possible for his safety’s sake. The situation was also diplomatically delicate, given the Sanhedrin’s participation; the wrong person’s knowledge of the plot and of the tribune’s reaction against it could embarrass the tribune (cf. 23:22). (Though Lysias trusts the governor with information about the plot in 23:30, he omits mention of the chief priests’ potential involvement, which would be too politically sensitive for a letter that might later be used in court.)[1616] Both Paul and Lysias treat the matter as private (23:17–19). (“Something to speak to you” is appropriately ambiguous; cf. the euphemistic beginning in Luke 7:40.)

Luke might also use this information to explain to interested readers why other accounts might differ from his and why all the public claims at trials omit it.[1617] Perhaps Lysias would later inform Felix privately of the Sanhedrin’s planned involvement (24:22), but from Luke’s perspective Felix knows enough, in any case, to indicate that Felix’s retention of Paul in custody reflects purely political considerations (24:27). In any event, Luke’s “inside information” underlines for his readers the sheer hypocrisy of the charges against Paul (24:5–6a).[1618]

Although Paul’s custody is light in the officers’ quarters, conditions remain imperfect, and Paul dares not entrust his nephew’s message to a centurion. Corruption plagued “every police organization in the Imperial period”; the information the youth carried constituted “a virtual gold mine for anyone who leaked it to the right parties.”[1619] Paul must trust the tribune for help, yet he dares not risk trusting the tribune’s subordinates.[1620] Paul will quickly discover his trust well placed (23:31).

(3) The Centurion’s Compliance

Although Paul is still called “the prisoner” (23:18), his ready access to Roman centurions (23:17; 27:1) indicates his status, including as a Roman citizen in the eastern provinces.[1621] Paul was of higher civilian status, and the centurion would not wish to risk Paul’s enmity or the tribune’s displeasure, potentially hurting his own career (22:25–26); he clearly sees Paul’s words as a request.[1622] (Such accoutrements vanish in Italy, where his citizenship is not at all unusual; cf. 28:16.) When one thinks of the speeches of Dio Chrysostom and some other cases, the Stoic Musonius’s observation rings true: sometimes exile makes a person more famous rather than infamous (Mus. Ruf. 9, p. 72.12, 18, 20–21). Knowing that Paul’s life has been in danger, that he is a Roman citizen, and perhaps that the tribune himself has already been embarrassed by dishonoring him once would motivate the centurion’s ready compliance.

III. THE TRIBUNE’S GENTLE INQUIRY (23:19)

Although some commentators associate the tribune’s leading Paul’s nephew by the right hand with the nephew’s youth,[1623] this gesture was not extended only to youths. It is a sign of comfort, assurance, or promise of safety, though less familiar in our less tactile culture. (Although the action does not itself indicate that the nephew was visibly afraid, it is certainly consonant with this intrinsic likelihood; both the dangerous information and the tribune’s dignity—especially to a young Jerusalemite probably not widely traveled, Roman citizen or no—render fear a natural response here.)

In the Hebrew Bible and early Christian texts, taking someone by the hand is an act of reassurance and benevolent patronage (Isa 42:6; Mark 1:31; 8:23); sometimes it applies to those who are young (Gen 21:18; Mark 5:41; 9:27; Luke 8:54; cf. Jer 31:32) but also (for example) to the aged (Isa 51:18) or blind (Acts 9:8; 13:11; 22:11).

More important for the tribune’s action in the narrative world is the Greek and Roman evidence. A woman treating Lucius as if he were her own son took his hand and led him aside to warn him of the danger he was in (Lucian Lucius 4). A king received a sage warmly by taking his hand.[1624] By giving one’s right hand, one could accept a suppliant,[1625] welcome a defector,[1626] or assure someone of mercy;[1627] one could also show special hospitality and promise of safety to an enemy’s messenger (Ps.-Callisth. Alex. 2.14), or honor to a queen (cf. Polyb. 13.7.8).[1628] The gesture could even function as a promise of assistance.[1629]

Grasping one’s right hand communicated assurance and encouragement.[1630] Clasping a hand could also communicate appreciation,[1631] affection,[1632] trust,[1633] congratulations,[1634] gratitude,[1635] or a welcome home.[1636] When Antiochus acceded to Popilius’s demand, Popilius and his comrades took his right hand and greeted him, showing acceptance (Polyb. 29.27.6). When Claudius expected to be killed, the soldier took his right hand, assuring him that instead he would be emperor (Jos. Ant. 19.219).[1637] When Enoch feared, an angel took his hand and raised him up (1 En. 71:3).[1638]

Many other examples, though not quite as relevant, reinforce the point. Holding another’s hand could provide comfort when the other was not well (Marcus Aurelius in Fronto Ad M. Caes. 1.2.1). Young Scipio, showing affection for Polybius and requesting his companionship, grasped his right hand with both of his own (Polyb. 31.24.9). Clasping another’s hand displayed affection and hospitality (Lucian Affairs 9). Antiochus Epiphanes allegedly took people’s right hands or embraced them, acting like a candidate for office (Polyb. 26.1.5). Moses took Joshua by the right hand, bringing him forward to ordain him (Philo Virt. 67). One who discovered that his younger brother was involved in a conspiracy took him by the hand to betray the plot to the king.[1639]

Clasping right hands was also a way of establishing an agreement, friendship, or good faith (cf. Gal 2:9),[1640] including between peoples.[1641] It offered a suitable image for reconciliation between two cities in conflict (Dio Chrys. Or. 38.47). A general could take an enemy general’s hand to assure him that he would not battle him unless it was necessary.[1642] These images reinforce the more general impression of assurance suggested by right-handed tactile contact.[1643]

IV. THE NEPHEW’S WARNING (23:20–22)

Ancient narratives often repeat messages that the narrative’s audience has already heard; in this case (Acts 23:20–21), the message’s repetition gives Luke another opportunity to reinforce the injustice of Paul’s situation, in addition to building suspense by emphasizing the political forces arrayed against him. The suspense, in turn, emphasizes God’s providence in Paul’s deliverance, again through the agency of Roman government.[1644]

The youth warns the tribune not to trust the council. Lysias would be wise to be careful about entrusting a Roman citizen to the locals, in any case; it was precisely to protect Roman citizens from potential local antipathy that Rome withheld the right of capital punishment from them (except, in Judea, for temple defilement). In any case, Lysias has seen enough directly (23:10, 29) to believe the nephew’s information.[1645] That more than forty are involved in the plot would require unusual security arrangements for Paul, which might in turn betray Lysias’s suspicions of the plot and of the Sanhedrin’s complicity even more openly than would Paul’s being urgently spirited from the city.

The command[1646] to remain silent (23:22) is both for the tribune’s sake and for the nephew’s; see comment on Acts 23:17–19. The assassins were daily killing Jews suspected of Roman sympathies;[1647] most of their reported targets were obvious aristocrats (see comment on Acts 21:38), probably especially because the aristocrats were seen as betraying the ideals of their people (on the danger to perceived traitors, see comment on Acts 23:16). Meanwhile Lysias must spirit Paul to a safer location before the Sanhedrin requests an interview the next day; otherwise, he would risk appearing to spite the Sanhedrin by sending him away after refusing its request.[1648] Word of his knowledge of the plot may leak out (23:30, if used in court), but at least he will not imply the Sanhedrin’s complicity by appearing to refuse to entrust Paul to it. Lysias has received leaked information; it is vital that no counterleak expose his receipt of it.

Although he would not have sent a force that night had he not learned of the plot, it is possible that Lysias has already planned to send Paul on at some point to the governor, since he himself lacks authority to try this Roman citizen.[1649] At the very least, his inability to try Paul allows for a valid political excuse for sending Paul away without further inquiry; explicit knowledge of a plot (from which he tactically omits the elite’s complicity, 23:30) will provide additional reason for acting swiftly. Although Lysias is a “round” character, he helps Paul, just as some Romans in Josephus help God’s people (e.g., Ant. 18.282, 305–9).

d. Lysias Sends Paul to Felix (23:23–30)

Whether he offers an apologetic for Rome[1650] or (more likely) to it, Luke continues to present the Roman authority in a generally positive light. (Although this is not always possible, Luke seems to pursue it whenever he can.) Although he reports Jesus’s abuse by Jewish soldiers, perhaps the Levite temple police (Luke 22:63–65; 23:11), he omits his source’s report of the abuse of Jesus by the Roman soldiers (23:25–26 omits Mark 15:16–20).[1651] Here Rome’s agents, whatever their motives, become proactive on Paul’s behalf.

This narrative’s action, though summarized tersely, is full of dramatic tension, like many comparable reports in other ancient historians. To this extent, we should read Luke as we read other ancient historians: some details serve no evident theological purpose but simply reflect a witness’s (probably Paul’s) knowledge (such as the third hour in Acts 23:23 as the approximate time the detachment left).[1652] Luke has a theologically edifying purpose (emphasizing the measure of Paul’s opposition and consequently God’s protection), but he is still writing narrative, not direct theological discourse. Taking into account the genre allows those with theological interest to discern Luke’s “message” in ways appropriate to his accounts. Thus a modern interpreter seeking to apply this passage’s lessons could simply stress God’s providence through unexpected means, in the larger context of Luke’s entire theology of accomplishing God’s plan for the gospel.

I. A SUFFICIENT PROTECTIVE FORCE (23:23–24)

Just as Lysias was ready to intervene at a moment’s notice in previous emergencies (21:32, ἐξαυτῆς; cf. 23:10), he acts decisively here. And just as he had sufficient force in the temple (21:32; but underestimated it in 23:10, a mistake from which he may have learned), he sends sufficient forces to guard against mishap here. As Paul’s enemies were “prepared” to kill him (23:15, 21), the chiliarch orders his centurions to “prepare” his rescue (23:23); meanwhile, in the other use of a cognate in Acts (this time an adverb), Paul was “prepared” to die in Jerusalem for the Lord Jesus (21:13).

Luke’s inclusion of details that serve no direct theological or literary purpose, such as the third hour (23:23), the number in his escort (23:23), and the provision of mounts (23:24), is best explained by an eyewitness source,[1653] presumably Paul himself.

(1) Lysias’s Rationale

Paul would be safe in the Antonia, but to send him away provides an excuse to resist the chief priests’ impending request (23:20) without appearing to refuse. Though they would undoubtedly prove unhappy anyway (cf. the variant in 24:7), at least he would not need to refuse their request; they could not openly charge him with thwarting more than an interrogation without admitting their participation in the assassination plan. No one could fault Lysias directly for sending Paul to the governor. Although the night expedition suggests extraordinary circumstances, sending Paul to Felix would be justifiable soon, in any case. The tribune lacks the imperium to try a Roman citizen and would eventually have to send him to Caesarea.[1654]

Fugitives, whether as individuals[1655] or in groups,[1656] sometimes preferred night escapes (also 9:25; 17:10) because they were more difficult to detect, at least in time to prevent them. Anything one wished to do secretly was better done by night.[1657] Fire signals could be used to communicate even at more than four days’ distance (Polyb. 10.43.3),[1658] but there is probably no need of advance notice here.

(2) Debating the Force’s Size

Luke undoubtedly records the number of troops to demonstrate how seriously the tribune wisely takes the threat, even if Felix later compromises the case. Lysias has good reason to anticipate an attack if he suspects that anyone might realize that Paul is leaving (Acts 23:21).

How large is the force? After mentioning 200 soldiers, Luke says, “both 70 cavalry and 200 infantry” (καὶ ἱππεῖς . . . καὶ δεξιολάβους); are these additional to the 200 soldiers just mentioned (so most translations), or do they overlap with them? Since centuries were officially 100 troops but more commonly numbered closer to 60, we might think of 70[1659] cavalry and about 120 infantry, totaling nearly 200; but this approach requires us to interpret “200” two different ways in the same verse, and Luke speaks of numbers of soldiers, not of “centuries.” Perhaps Luke means 200 infantry in both references to 200, supplemented by 70 cavalry. Although centurions normally commanded no more than 80 soldiers each, two would nevertheless be sufficient to lead 200 soldiers if necessary (cf. the possibly informal assemblage in 21:32); if a larger force is envisioned, perhaps these centurions would merely prepare the company, being joined by some other officers for the journey.[1660] Most scholars, however, accept a total of 470 soldiers here.

One further possibility could reduce the number, although there is little positive evidence for it.[1661] Some suggest that the rare term δεξιολάβους here applies to the horses; thus the second “200” refers to mounts for all the infantry, explaining their rapid movement.[1662] But where would Lysias acquire so many additional horses, especially on short notice and without betraying his intentions? Although the term is rarely attested,[1663] it probably refers to the highly mobile, light-armed auxiliaries (such as javelin throwers or slingers)[1664] who, together with cavalry and heavy infantry, constituted a Roman fighting force.[1665] Infantry, cavalry, and light-armed troops were the three primary elements of the Roman army.[1666]

(3) Did Luke Estimate High? (23:23)

Some find the number of soldiers incredible. Because this was (according to many scholars) nearly half the Antonia cohort,[1667] Fitzmyer opines that it “borders on the fantastic.”[1668] The matter may, however, be even starker than Fitzmyer’s portrayal suggests. It is likely that 470 soldiers would be even considerably larger than half the number of troops for a normal auxiliary cohort. The infantry and cavalry of a normal cohort in this period comprised about 480 to 500 soldiers; the cohortes equitatae, partly mounted cohorts, had 120 horsemen and 480 foot soldiers.[1669] The cavalry unit thus suggests that the garrison had been strengthened at this time with one of the cohortes quingenariae equitatae;[1670] in view of such units’ normal size, Lysias appears to be sending the majority of his auxiliary force.[1671] Nevertheless, units of 800 to 1,000 came into use no later than the Flavian period, which began in 69 C.E.;[1672] they may stem from Nero’s time—that is, the period that Luke depicts.[1673] Moreover, between possible festival strength and (likelier) possible augmentation due to the increase in bandits, a unit larger than the normal traditional cohort is possible (though by no means certain).[1674]

Although acknowledging the argument of other scholars (especially Hengel) for a larger force, Barrett argues that Luke probably simply estimated high, not having access to records.[1675] Numbers inflation is common throughout ancient historians (though cf. comment on Acts 2:41; 4:4; 21:20), and Luke would not be any less an ancient historian for following the practice.[1676] This objection to Luke’s count is a plausible one; Luke was obviously not present during 23:31–35 (his discreet “we” appears when he travels in Paul’s company), and Paul, Luke’s presumed source, might not have asked his military escort their number.[1677] It is highly doubtful that Luke would have interviewed Lysias, and more likely that he simply guessed on the basis of the size of the cohort. (Luke should have known at least the size of cohorts in the period described, but it is not impossible that he could have simply extrapolated from their later, larger size.)

Although Barrett’s argument is plausible and possibly correct, I believe that a sufficiently strong case could also be made for the accuracy of Luke’s numbers to offer this solution as no less plausible (though no more certain) than the suggestion that he simply guessed.[1678] (This would be on the assumption that Paul was told the numbers, since even Paul would not likely have counted.) Josephus suggests that battles between brigands and the government often “involved large numbers.”[1679] Elite cavalry detachments were recruited from the auxilia; their function was the protection of Roman officials in the provinces. Normally they resided at a governor’s palace in the provincial capital, traveling with him; they also could be used for police duties and for carrying “diplomatic dispatches.”[1680] It is possible, but doubtful, that Felix would have left them in Jerusalem during the festival if he attended and returned from it. It is plausible that he would have sent them with additional troops to the festival if he did not attend (perhaps reluctant to return so soon after Passover); but if so, it may have been only the cavalry, for at most the seventy cavalrymen remain in Caesarea afterward (23:32–33). It is still more plausible that he had additional cavalry to strengthen the Antonia during this period of unrest. More likely, these are simply regular mounted auxilia, who normally carried the same kinds of weapons as their elite counterparts.[1681] (See further discussion below.)

Gaventa, however, is right to conclude that whatever one makes of the precise numbers, they particularly underline the narrative’s emphasis on danger: “Only a large force traveling secretly at night can hope to deliver Paul.”[1682] This literary function is most essential here. On the narrative level, it builds suspense, and on the apologetic level, it shows that, given all the forces arrayed against Paul on multiple levels, it should be no surprise that the governor did not simply acquit him.

Conzelmann complains that “Luke is unaware that secrecy and such a display do not fit.”[1683] This objection loses force if the soldiers left the Antonia urgently and quickly, before those eager to stop them could learn of their departure (Luke would have access to an eyewitness source during his later visits to Paul in Caesarea). Since the night action would be unexpected, the assassins would hardly have spies watching the Antonia, or forces ready in the hills to intercept the group.[1684] Nor would the assassins necessarily immediately assume, if someone saw a detachment leaving, that Paul was with them;[1685] if the garrison had been augmented (admittedly uncertain) and observers were accustomed to its strength sometimes diminishing after festivals, they might well suppose that those leaving were returning to Felix at Caesarea.

The purpose for the secrecy was temporary only. It would prevent an attack during departure, when the attack would prove most feasible and formidable,[1686] and the detachment would be difficult to apprehend once it had gotten a head start unless the assassins sent word ahead to bandits in the countryside. A secret departure also prevented political interference or questions from the Sanhedrin. (Despite the claim in 23:30, the night departure suggests that Lysias would inform the Sanhedrin’s members of his actions only the next day, after it was too late for any of them to provide their own alternative proposal.) Roman precedent revealed the value of thwarting plots quickly, before they could materialize (Vell. Paterc. 2.88.3).

(4) Could Lysias Afford the Troop Reduction?

The force that the tribune sent would briefly weaken the force guarding the Antonia, but this consideration need not gravely concern Lysias. First, anyone watching at night probably could not determine the exact strength that had left the garrison, and certainly could not know when they would return.[1687] Second, the infantry’s forced march was overnight; though they would return more slowly, the infantry garrison in the Antonia would have a reduced size for only a day (without Jerusalemites knowing how reduced it was, unless vehicular travelers in the morning outpaced the soldiers and also recognized that they had left Jerusalem). (The cavalry contingent was for emergency attacks outside the city [e.g., Jos. Ant. 20.98] and hence would not be missed immediately; horses would not defend the Antonia itself, on the Temple Mount.) Third, even if Felix did not personally come to this festival, he would have strengthened the garrison, as was normally done for festivals.[1688] We cannot be sure that the garrison was currently at festival strength (if it was, why do the infantry return to Jerusalem instead of to Caesarea in Acts 23:32?),[1689] but it is possible (see comment on Acts 20:16; 21:30; 24:11 and the presence of probable pilgrims in 21:27). More important, numbers previously assigned for festival strength may have become more common at other seasons as well; in these tumultuous years, various garrisons were strengthened beyond their usual numbers entirely apart from festivals.[1690] Thus the numbers remaining to hold the fortress may not have been far below its strength in normal times. Fourth, the Antonia was a secure fortress, and there was little chance of it being attacked by overwhelming numbers at this time (in contrast to guerrilla raids in the countryside or individual assassinations in the temple). The troops traveling by night march would require greater vigilance and security.

(5) The Danger

Only the need to move Paul out of Jerusalem secretly and quickly would urge Lysias to send the contingent by night. Whether from robbers or from terrain, night held its own dangers for the marching army, and hence an army that did not need the advantage of surprise would not normally undertake night marches (Arrian Alex. 3.10.1–3).[1691]

The doubts of some scholars about the necessity of infantry outside Jerusalem[1692] ignore the realities of night travel in general and Felix’s governorship in particular. Even with night escapes, caution was necessary; sometimes they failed (e.g., Philost. Hrk. 31.6). Relevant for the danger of sudden attacks by bandits is that, besides night escapes, night attacks were also strategic and effective both in the ancient Near East[1693] and in the Hellenistic and Roman periods.[1694] Although such a large contingent would not be easily pursued on the main road, the assassins in Jerusalem might signal ahead to other bandits in the hill country if they discovered that Paul had left with the contingent.[1695] (This would not be likely, but for a commander who already conflated all enemies hostile to Rome [Acts 21:38], it was a contingency best prepared for, especially if he suspected the potential complicity of the Sanhedrin itself.)[1696]

Further, bandits lurked everywhere, and it could ultimately prove irrelevant whether they knew or cared about Paul. Josephus says that “robbers” were regularly increasing in the countryside, so that Felix was killing them daily (Ant. 20.160–61).[1697] Such bandits would often strike at night, as thieves and robbers always had.[1698] (Thieves who acted at night were also regarded as particularly dangerous; that was why homeowners could kill them with impunity as if in self-defense.)[1699] Many of these bandits doubled as insurgents against Rome; Felix, at least, viewed them as social bandits with peasant support when he arrested village leaders in the area of their attacks (War 2.229).[1700]

For such guerrilla fighters, a small force of Romans would make an attractive target, and guerrillas nearly always preferred the hill country, where most of this nocturnal expedition would transpire.[1701] Superior numbers were of less benefit in narrow passes (Jos. War 2.547),[1702] and so haste was required until the force passed the hill country (see comment on Acts 23:31).[1703] But at night, with limited visibility apart from some of the soldiers carrying torches, the speed advantage otherwise afforded by cavalry would be severely restricted.[1704] Moreover, because roads could be blocked in the hill country, mere haste would not be sufficient and had to be supplemented by a force sufficiently overwhelming so as to deter attackers—hence the additional infantry until they left the hill country (Acts 23:31–32).[1705]

In the event of a conflict, Lysias’s career would fare better if the force was large enough to ensure victory and, preferably, all or most of its members’ survival.[1706] (If he lost some soldiers but the contingent was large enough to kill some bandits, this victory could also be in his favor. To lose Paul and the detachment, however, would be a major embarrassment.) It would be even better if the contingent’s large size deterred robbers’ attacks, which it probably would. Lysias has already witnessed violent hostility toward Paul even in the Sanhedrin, where he underestimated the need for guards (23:10); he will not make the same mistake twice.[1707]

Luke was well aware of the wisdom of having sufficient troops to meet an enemy (Luke 14:31–32). Properly reckoning with the relative size of one’s own and the enemy’s troops was conventional military strategy.[1708] Normally one should voluntarily engage the enemy in the open only if one’s force far outnumbered theirs (Xen. Hell. 2.1.14). One should never be caught unprepared in war.[1709]

As Johnson observes, the numbers do “fit within the complement of a full cohort, and such numerical superiority to the forty conspirators (ten to one) in a desert context would not be entirely unreasonable if the point were the prevention of a killing.”[1710] To send too few troops would invite the loss of soldiers to a degree that sending many, who would find safety and probably deterrent value in their numbers, likely would not. To fail to anticipate trouble was “military incompetence,” a punishable offense.[1711]

The officer is aware of a potentially large threat, given the nature of the times (see comment on Acts 21:38). As many scholars note, this instability accurately depicts the insurgency during Felix’s time.[1712] The roads were not safe, and a few years later (in October 66) an entire Roman army was soundly defeated traveling on such roads, because the soldiers did not stand together and defend one another (Jos. War 2.540–53).[1713] Under the governor who preceded Felix, Josephus reports another major incident on a main road, in which bandits embarrassed the governor by robbing a servant of the emperor (War 2.228; Ant. 20.113).[1714] Given Josephus’s description, the road was probably the same road that Paul’s captors took that night.[1715]

For Luke’s audience as well, the precautions further underline the threat, which suggests the conflict that spiraled into the tragic destruction of Jerusalem and the devastation of Judea (66–73 C.E.). Their hero Paul was there, and he was an object of the destabilizing forces’ hatred no less than the Romans were; this message would encourage the members of an audience loyal to Rome, especially if their loyalty might be otherwise suspect because their faith was grounded in Israel’s history.

(6) Would Paul Seem Worth It?

Perhaps the strongest objection is Johnson’s question: would even Paul’s citizenship “win such attention”?[1716] Undoubtedly it would not do so normally, but several factors suggest that it might do so here. First, given the wave of recent assassinations without the capture of any assassins (see comment on Acts 21:38), losing a Roman citizen to assassins while he was in Roman protective custody would constitute a major embarrassment. Such an embarrassment might not lead to Lysias’s punishment unless Paul had a political constituency to protest to Rome;[1717] but it certainly would not help his career, and Felix would certainly learn of it, whether or not from Lysias.[1718] To prevent intervention, Josephus sent four troublemakers back to Jerusalem with an escort of five hundred armed guards (Life 332), roughly the number cited here.[1719]

Second, Lysias needs to be Paul’s successful benefactor, given his earlier embarrassment (Acts 22:26–29). If Lysias seems to send too many troops, we may recall that he underestimated the need for security on an earlier occasion (22:30; 23:10); he avoids that risk here (as he apparently avoided it also in the face of unrest in 21:32). Third, the narrative suggests divine providence, the factor Luke would have emphasized above others.

(7) Caesarea (23:23)

The destination was Caesarea because this was the governor’s seat, where most of Judea’s auxiliary cohorts were stationed.[1720] Caesarea had a significant Jewish population but might not seem an inviting place to many of Jerusalem’s nationalists. Most of the soldiers stationed there were Syrians, not friendly to Judean interests (Jos. War 2.268).[1721] If any of Luke’s audience knew the details of the Jewish War, they would know that initial battles in Caesarea set the tone for what followed. Jews and “Greek” Syrians each laid claim to Caesarea, the former because a Jew, King Herod, founded the city, and the latter because Herod lavished it with pagan statues and temples (2.266–67) and because no Jews lived in the former city, Strato’s Tower, on which it was founded (Ant. 20.173).[1722]

The Jewish community had greater numbers and wealth, but most of the Syrian soldiers there sided with local Gentiles (War 2.268). After each side fell to assailing the other, Felix eventually massacred many Jews there (2.268–70), and tension continued to build afterward (2.284–92). Caesarean Jewish complaints against Governor Felix to Nero were harsh, and only his brother Pallas’s intervention protected him from reprisals (Ant. 20.182). Local Syrian Greeks reportedly also induced Nero to annul Jewish residents’ status as equal citizens of Caesarea (War 2.284; Ant. 20.183), which helped lead to war (Ant. 20.184).

Disagreement between synagogue members in Caesarea and a Syrian landlord (War 2.285–89) became the spark that set Judea ablaze with war (2.285).[1723] At the outbreak of war in 66 C.E., the massacres in Caesarea were so brutal that the Jewish community there was annihilated, with Jewish claims of more than twenty thousand killed in a single hour (2.457–58).[1724] This led to Jewish retaliation in the Decapolis, Sebaste, and Ashkelon (Ant. 18.458–60) and to Syrian reprisals against their noncombatant Jewish population (18.461–65; Life 25). Thousands of Jews who demonstrated their loyalty to Scythopolis were massacred in turn (the Jewish claim was more than thirteen thousand slaughtered), their possessions looted (Ant. 18.466–68).[1725] Vespasian afterward made Caesarea a Roman colony, Prima Flavia (Pliny E. N.H. 5.14.69).

(8) Paul’s Mounts (23:24)

Lysias’s intention is to get Paul’s safety off his own hands in treacherous Jerusalem and into the governor’s in Caesarea. The verb διασώσωσι (Acts 23:24) expresses this concern for safety (as in 27:43–28:1), but given the term’s connection with Luke’s larger use of “salvation” language, the reader may well also think of God’s delivering activity behind the scenes.

Although prisoners might have often walked, Paul is older, a Roman citizen, and in protective custody. Aware of his age but not his long journeys, the tribune would not assume that Paul would be able to keep up with Roman soldiers on an overnight forced march. Prisoners were normally chained when transported, to provide security (a major concern, cf. 27:42), but given Lysias’s earlier concern, Paul is probably left unchained here.[1726] Chains would also complicate riding in haste, and Paul has far more incentive to remain with his guards than to attempt escape in the Judean hills.

Why does Luke use the plural “mounts” (κτήνη)? Perhaps the phrase is simply idiomatic; it usually appears in the plural. But that is usually with reference to herds (BDAG), and Luke knows the singular (Luke 10:34).[1727] Riders might need to change mounts if riding hard (e.g., Val. Max. 5.5.3), but the cavalry cannot afford to outpace the infantry until the next day, and any accompanying horses will be riding at the same rate. Perhaps Paul has possessions, brought to him by friends during his detention in the Antonia, that need to be transported with him to Caesarea, but if Paul traveled so heavily, it is hard to explain his movements from Greece to Jerusalem.[1728]

Perhaps Luke hints at his own presence as Paul’s companion. The soldiers would normally be loath to accept his civilian companions (given the commensurately greater risk and the breach of discipline—he was still a prisoner, after all; but cf. Acts 27:2), though this reservation might well be surmounted if Luke was a physician[1729] and if Paul had some injuries from Acts 21:32 or 23:10.[1730] But Luke, though minimizing his own activity, is normally explicit with a “we” during travels. If the mounts do not point to Luke’s presence (and they probably do not), he and Paul’s other companions probably were unaware of the move until the next day and would have rejoined him later in Caesarea. The simplest explanation may be that Luke refers to horses for the cavalry or Paul’s immediate guards.

II. FELIX THE GOVERNOR (23:24)

It is not certain that the average member of Luke’s ideal audience would know much about Felix (apart from what they learn from Acts). Nevertheless, Luke’s portrait is certainly in keeping with our other historical sources about Felix; given Felix’s known corruption, no one after Felix’s recall (i.e., by the time Luke writes, according to any proposed date of Acts) would object to his portrait.

Luke thus will lose nothing by his less-than-flattering portrait of Felix (24:25–27); Felix was not popular by anyone’s standards, and Luke is more respectful toward him than were most other extant writers. Subsequent Roman opinion of Felix was not flattering, expressed in class-based terms customary for the Roman elite: he “exercised the power of a king in the spirit of a slave” (Tac. Hist. 5.9).[1731] Romans also recalled that Felix had married three queens—one of whom he had seduced to leave her royal husband (Suet. Claud. 28; cf. Tac. Hist. 5.9; see comment on Acts 24:24). Since that husband, the king of Emesa, had undergone circumcision precisely to marry her, her marriage to uncircumcised Felix would not have commended Felix to Jewish sympathies either.[1732] The sources render a unanimously negative verdict on his character.

(1) Felix’s Powerful Brother

Because Felix’s brother Pallas helped secure his status, it is important to comment briefly about Pallas. Josephus, probably followed by Tacitus, indicates that the emperor Claudius had sent Felix, brother of his favored freedman Pallas, as governor of Judea.[1733] Roman aristocrats resented a freedman wielding so much authority and were still complaining a good half century later.[1734] When the senate voted Pallas 15 million sesterces for loyalty and service to his patrons, he declined the money (he had 300 million already, some by corrupt means) but retained the honor.[1735] A later generation considered the senate’s sycophancy and Pallas’s pretense of moderation farcical.[1736]

Tacitus portrays Felix as less moderate than his more powerful brother: corrupt, violent, and ineffective. Felix began his career in Palestine serving under Ventidius Cumanus from 48 to 52 C.E. but replaced his superior when the latter was punished for the acts that the two had allegedly committed together (Tac. Ann. 12.54; cf. Hist. 5.9). Felix was well treated because he had Claudius’s favor; among Claudius’s two most favored freedmen was his brother (Suet. Claud. 28).[1737] Felix was freed either by Antonia or by her son Claudius and sent to Palestine to command a military unit in the mid-40s.[1738]

(2) Felix’s Name

Although we know quite a bit about Felix, there is considerable debate as to his gentilicium, because Tacitus calls him Antonius Felix (Hist. 5.9; cf. Ann. 12.54) whereas the best reading of Josephus calls him Claudius Felix (Ant. 20.137). If he was manumitted by Antonia, Claudius’s mother,[1739] he would bear the former name; if by Claudius himself, the latter. Some scholars follow Tacitus, citing epigraphic evidence;[1740] others cite epigraphic evidence favoring Josephus.[1741] But these sources do not all denote the same person.[1742]

One would normally prefer Tacitus to Josephus on this point—Felix’s brother certainly was Marcus Antonius Pallas—and so Josephus is often emended (from “sent Claudius Felix” to “Claudius sent Felix”). But this argument can cut the other way: Josephus would likely know the name of the Judean procurator during his own lifespan, and Tacitus would likely assume that it is the same as Pallas’s. Felix could have been freed later, by Claudius himself.[1743] Some inscriptions cited in favor of Tacitus’s reading refer to a different individual.[1744] It is possible that Tacitus confused Claudius Felix with another Felix from the same period or wrongly recalled the name.[1745] Is it possible that the governor Felix was first Antonius, but later Claudius after his royal patron?[1746] Or that Tacitus is as confused in calling him Antonius as in thinking him Marc Antony’s grandson-in-law (Hist. 5.9)?

Some evidence cited in favor of Josephus is weak; the citation sometimes offered from Victor does not prove the case, and the Suda is simply following Josephus.[1747] Some inscriptions cited in favor of “Claudius Felix” cannot in fact refer to him.[1748] Nevertheless, various factors appear to support Josephus’s “Claudius” Felix. One inscription has been reconstructed as speaking of “Tiberius Claudius [Felix],”[1749] and the chronology and other elements seem to fit best the time of Felix.[1750] An Egyptian papyrus from 55 C.E. notes an agent of one Tiberius Claudius Felix administering an estate of Nero’s; the context led the editor to suspect a prefect of Egypt, but no such prefect is known to have governed Egypt, and the prefect in 55 C.E. did not bear that name. Yet it fits perfectly the governor of nearby Judea, who was in office that year.[1751]

Kokkinos concludes that “apart from the texts already quoted, the name Ti. Claudius Felix is attested on, at least, twenty-six inscriptions in Rome alone”[1752] whereas Marcus Antonius Felix is limited to five.[1753] Mere numerical count would not prove compelling, since Claudius freed many more slaves than did Antonia[1754] and many others achieved citizenship under him as well; the papyrus from 55 C.E., however, seems more compelling.

All other factors being equal, Josephus certainly knew much more about Felix than did Tacitus, a long generation later (and often using Josephus as a source). Josephus was also friends with, and dependent on some information from, Agrippa II, who was indeed Felix’s brother-in-law through Drusilla. When Josephus and Tacitus conflict regarding Palestine, Josephus is always “better informed.”[1755] Josephus lived in Judea during the period that he describes. Thus the governor’s name may have been Tiberius Claudius Felix, but the matter remains unsettled.

(3) Felix’s Date

The date of Felix is also in question (see also discussion at Acts 24:10, 27). Although some scholars limit his tenure to 53–55 C.E.,[1756] more argue that he remained in office until 59. Eusebius’s Chronicle dates the accession of Felix’s successor, Festus, as early as about 56; but Festus died after a short tenure in office (Jos. Ant. 20.182–97, 200; War 2.271–72), and Eusebius’s date for Festus’s death (61 or 62) is more likely than his date for Festus’s successor. Coinage changed in 59, which would fit a new governor. This suggests that Paul remained in detention from early summer 57 to fall 59.[1757] Aside from Luke, Josephus is the earliest extant source regarding Festus, and he is also our extant source best acquainted with Felix: Judea was his own province; he belonged to the elite; and he reports the events of the era in detail.[1758]

Luke also notes that Felix served “many years” (Acts 24:10)—which would hardly suit 53–55 C.E. unless this is intended as a mere rhetorical flourish. Though not native to the province, Luke seems well informed regarding Judea’s governors (e.g., Luke 3:1–2) and even includes some events no longer extant elsewhere. Nevertheless, “many years” (Acts 24:10) could be epideictic hyperbole, and one coin might appear to date Festus’s accession to 56, which would shift Pauline chronology downward accordingly.[1759] The evidence for this coin is so far uncertain.[1760] This lower dating would not need to contradict either the date assigned Paul’s stay in Corinth on the basis of the Gallio inscription (see comment on Acts 18:12) or Luke’s explicit chronological markers in 19:8, 10 (“two years” can include parts of two years both in 19:10 and in 24:27), though the time frame is almost as tight as possible when we factor in the Corinthian correspondence. It also does not fit easily with the commonly assumed date of the Egyptian prophet mentioned in 21:38, though this date, like Pauline chronology, is a relative date subject to revision.

III. LYSIAS’S LETTER (23:25–30)

Lysias can hardly send Paul without a report explaining the situation. Lysias must be discreet in how he words the letter;[1761] it could well become part of Paul’s legal file (unless he worded it in too politically sensitive a manner) and, as such, would become a matter of public record. This account becomes simply another version of the story (like that of the hostile Jerusalem authorities in 24:6a); Luke’s informed audience, by contrast, will read these accounts in view of the narrator’s perspective, regarding them as slanted.

(1) Luke’s Use of the Letter (23:25)

Although histories (including Josephus and Maccabean texts) included both authentic and composed letters, depending on the availability of the former,[1762] Luke would surely have had access to this letter. Even had he failed to transcribe it (or lost his transcription at sea), he would likely have remembered its substance. An officer transferring a prisoner to a superior would have to send such a letter (cf. 25:26–27).[1763] The letter includes nine legal terms, confirming that it functions as an official referral.[1764]

LUKE’S ACCESS TO A REAL LETTER

Some might wonder how Luke would have access to such a letter. Historians could offer guesses for dialogues, speeches, or letters where they lacked such information,[1765] but they also could use documents where such existed.[1766] Although some historians tried to make their errors sound plausible, others emphasized the use of genuine documents to make their stories accurate (Polyb. 3.33.17–18). Whereas some forensic speeches merely refer to records read out in court without reciting them (in the period of the writers’ audiences, the records remained available for anyone who wished to check), historians could quote the entire text of documents to which they referred (e.g., a treaty in 21.42.1–27).

Because not only letters in novels but letters in histories could closely fit their context, scholars allow that historians could compose the letters they included.[1767] Some scholars show connections between this letter and its narrative context in Acts, most notably that Lysias states Paul’s innocence in a manner that fits Luke’s pattern of Roman declarations of innocence for Paul and Jesus.[1768] This connection may well imply Luke’s literary activity; but does it necessarily point to free composition, or could Luke have adjusted for literary purposes an existing letter? (The same question may be asked of some other historical letters, sometimes even those used to illustrate the practice.)[1769] After all, there is no reason to assume that Paul could not have been consistently deemed innocent apart from accommodation to political power (which Acts also portrays); it is indeed clear from his letters that Paul, like Jesus, was no anti-Roman Zealot.

Klauck does not deny that Paul could be transferred between locations of custody and that official letters could have accompanied him on these occasions, but he doubts that Luke would have had access to such letters.[1770] It is precisely this point of access, however, that ancient sources challenge. Such a letter could become part of Paul’s case file and hence part of the record available to the defendant and those assisting him.[1771] Fabricating a case file would not help Luke’s case if his apologetic is early enough to have been relevant to those interested in Paul’s conviction (as his persistent answering of charges against Paul suggests).[1772] Moreover, even had Luke lacked access to Paul’s case file, he (or on other views, his “we” source) had access to Paul (cf. Acts 24:23), and Paul had heard the letter’s contents read aloud at least once (see comment on Acts 23:33–35).[1773] If the letter was unavailable, Luke would have had the freedom as a historian to compose one, but then we might expect it to fit Luke’s narrative even better, accusing the chief priests more directly.

Scholars cite several factors as supporting Luke’s verbatim transcription of a real letter here.[1774] First, they point out that τύπος normally means a verbatim, replication copy (e.g., 3 Macc 3:30, for the letter in 3:12–29).[1775] The term fulfills this function in legal documents, such as an official petition analyzed by E. A. Judge.[1776] Second, the letter would be read aloud in Paul’s presence when he arrived. (This factor, however, can allow for a remembered summary rather than a verbatim report.) Third, this was an official report, including Lysias’s findings from the preliminary inquiry (Acts 23:28–29). Such reports were available to defendants and any colleagues supporting their defense, as matters of public record.[1777] Because the letter fits the context so well, we might accommodate the best arguments of both positions above (except the claim for τύπος) by adjusting the claim of “verbatim transcription” to literary adaptation, which could be permitted so long as the basic claims and substance were not altered.[1778] (If it was verbatim, Luke’s other declarations of innocence could be modeled after the wording here, although the wording is not unusual.)

Knowing that such a letter would count as public evidence in a subsequent trial, Lysias avoids taking on the Sanhedrin directly (23:30). Although forged letters existed,[1779] 1 Maccabees (probably part of the LXX that Luke used) employed real ones, and Luke undoubtedly believed that the one he used was real.[1780] If Luke joins Paul in Caesarea, he has every reason to gain access to a document that is now public record and available to the defendant.[1781]

Letters were customarily copied before being sent;[1782] some people also attached copies of others’ letters when relevant.[1783] A writer might note when he sent on another’s letters in haste without preserving a copy (Cic. Att. 9.15). Letters could be used as legal documents, as “witnesses” testifying what the authors were really saying when they wrote them (Cic. Quinct. 18.58).[1784] Like virtually all letters in antiquity, this one was hand delivered. Most people depended on travelers to carry letters; the wealthy could send slaves as couriers; only the imperial service had a more efficient system of transmitting official dispatches.[1785] Here, however, the letter travels with the detachment.

LYSIAS’S VERSION OF EVENTS

Although some modern readers might be tempted to prefer Lysias’s official report, embedded in Luke’s account, to Luke’s own portrayal of the incident, we should remember that Luke’s narrator is everywhere else projected as reliable (and sometimes virtually omniscient) whereas Lysias is portrayed as politically sensitive (Acts 22:28–29) and perhaps opportunistic (cf. comment on Acts 21:38).[1786] The briefest reflection reveals that Lysias’s report, as it stands, is not completely plausible: how would Lysias discover Paul’s Roman citizenship before reaching him, in the midst of a riot?[1787] (Lysias’s self-serving way of putting matters may have confused the evidence in the trial enough to weaken Paul’s case—though it cannot have been worse than that of Paul’s accusers, who lacked hard evidence to substantiate their case.)

The version of events reported in 23:27–30 would constitute the official account, from a Roman perspective, for Paul’s trial record; this official account probably indirectly saves Paul’s life by preventing Felix from acceding to political expediency (cf. 24:27). That Luke’s own fuller account diverges from it so significantly, despite Luke’s frequent desire to portray Romans positively as the letter does,[1788] suggests that Luke does not conform his sources to each other. As in OT narratives, a story can be repeated from various angles by various characters, but the narrator is reliable and hence provides the reliable perspective.[1789]

Luke probably expects us to read Lysias’s letter as somewhat slanted. As already mentioned, Lysias’s account is not very plausible: how would he discover that Paul was a Roman in the midst of a riot? (We who know Paul better than Felix initially did—whether from his letters or from Acts—also recognize that Paul did not regularly advertise his citizenship.) Some scholars also question whether troops would rush from the Antonia to rescue a Jew.[1790] Against this, one might reply that they would rush down to stop any commotion, especially after the activity of “assassins” (21:38) in the temple; but this is just the point: Lysias would have intervened during unrest, as Luke says, without necessarily first learning that Paul was a Roman. Lysias probably conflates this intervention with his rescue of Paul as a citizen in 23:10, but it remains politically indiscreet to mention that Lysias rescued Paul from the Sanhedrin (at a hearing, moreover, that Lysias requested).

Claudius Lysias exaggerates his own benevolence, audaciously seeking to benefit from the situation.[1791] This fits the apparent character of the politically astute officer who bought his citizenship and likely also his post. Lysias’s hope to profit from Paul may also indirectly contribute to saving Paul’s life, since he might not have otherwise proved worth the effort (though the convenient alternative provided by the assassins’ plot would not make for a favorable report, especially if Paul’s guards were lost alongside him). Other officers in antiquity probably often curried favor with superiors in letters sent with prisoners, explaining how their capture had profited the superior (e.g., in Chariton’s novel, Chaer. 4.5.8). Lysias is by no means wholly self-serving; he is not a Pilate (Luke 23:12, 22–24) or a Felix (Acts 24:22, 26–27) concerned almost exclusively with political expediency. He is “a ‘round’ character” who has positive traits but also tells the story in a manner that protects (and probably promotes) himself.[1792]

Although Lysias has shaded the story, he can relatively confidently trust Paul, a gentleman familiar with the etiquette of the Greco-Roman world, to appreciate his supportive account and not embarrass him by overtly denying it (see comment above on Acts 23:17–18). Even in forensic rhetoric, a speaker might indulge in fiction if the only potential witness (here Paul) has reason to profit from the fiction and hence will not speak against it, or is a legal opponent (here some local leaders), whose denial may be played down as what one would expect from opponents (Quint. Inst. 4.2.93). The account is highly favorable toward Paul, offering no serious charges under Roman law that could merit grave punishment (Acts 23:29) and suggesting that he was referred to the governor only to protect him (23:30).

Currying favor with Paul is prudent; the prisoner is a citizen, articulate, and (as Lysias may infer by now) a leader with a significant constituency, and Lysias wants Paul to portray him favorably.[1793] Paul will certainly not charge Lysias with having detained him as a prisoner and chained him, Lysias’s most important concern (22:25–29). When a Roman officer testified to a city’s innocence and it therefore escaped punishment, the city dedicated a statue of the officer in the agora, beside the god Dionysus (Plut. Cim. 2.1–2). From Luke’s theological perspective, however, what is more critical is the degree of unexpected, divinely bestowed favor Paul has received from Lysias (cf. Acts 2:47; 7:10; Luke 2:52).

(2) Conventional Greetings (23:26)

Although some letter collections omit epistolary prescripts, such prescripts often remain in letters embedded in larger narrative works.[1794] The tribune’s name fits a Greek (cf. Acts 21:37) who acquired citizenship (22:28) under Claudius, when it was most easily obtained (see comment on Acts 22:28); this fits the chronology, since he must have been a Roman for some years before the events Luke depicts. Inscriptions naming Greeks who possessed Roman citizenship typically included both the abbreviated Roman praenomens and the nomens, retaining their Greek names as cognomens.[1795]

Luke employs the title “most excellent” (here κρατίστῳ) appropriately for governors (24:3; 26:25), but also for Theophilus, the person of status to whom he dedicates his two-volume work (Luke 1:3; nowhere else in the NT or the LXX; cf. Jos. Life 430). Cf. comment at Acts 24:3, and see discussion at Acts 1:1, on Theophilus.

The title was appropriate for all members of the equestrian order; like tribunes, procurators of subordinate provinces (including Judea) were normally equestrians.[1796] In fact, Felix was not technically equestrian, but his office required the title anyway, particularly from a politically astute subordinate.[1797] (Felix was a freedman, which would technically bar him, but not a freeborn Greek such as Lysias, from achieving the status; political favor made him governor nonetheless.[1798] Paul’s citizen birth, ironically, outranked the origins of both on one level, but politically he was subject to them, and Luke does not mention Felix’s birth.)

This letter not unexpectedly employs the standard greeting χαίρειν, which appears often in letters (e.g., Acts 15:23; Jas 1:1).[1799] (It also occurs regularly on ancient Jewish funerary inscriptions.)[1800]

(3) Lysias’s “Rescue” and Investigation (23:27–29)

Lysias paints honorably his own role in rescuing Paul and investigating his case. The tribune certainly has acted expeditiously, but he shifts the discovery of Paul’s citizenship to before the rescue and naturally omits information potentially damaging to his own career.

LYSIAS’S RESCUE (23:27)

Letters sometimes open with a recent event that occasioned the writer’s thoughts[1801] or with a history of the subject about which the author is going to write.[1802] An official letter, like documents or speeches, would often have a narratio, as in Acts 23:27–30. Happily for Luke (whose chosen genre is narrative), the entire document is something of a narratio, narrating the events leading up to sending Paul to the governor.

Luke expects his audience to understand that Lysias, though helping Paul, is also reporting selectively, a social reality that provincials in less prosperous provinces probably had come to expect.[1803] The first rescue was hardly a deliberate rescue of a Roman citizen (22:29). Lysias did rescue Paul after learning that he was a Roman (23:10)—but from the Sanhedrin, whom he mentions afterward (23:28), and whose behavior he dares not mention in a public document such as the official letter he is sending to Felix. Blending stories to abbreviate them was more accepted, but this blending of details, though not a lie, certainly contains a self-serving “twist.” Chaining a Roman citizen would be worse than offending the locals, but the latter was not good politics (cf. the variant in 24:7), especially if one confronted eminent locals, some of whom would themselves be Roman citizens and even equestrians. Some governors were recalled after locals’ protests made them a liability to Rome,[1804] including Felix’s predecessor in the office, Cumanus.[1805] Because Lysias is rescuing Paul a third time, he can trust Paul not to disadvantage himself by criticizing his benefactor (see more fully the introduction to this section).

The commander’s report might at first sight seem to agree with the priestly aristocracy’s legal complaint if we translate συλλημφθέντα such that Paul’s opponents “arrested” him (24:6),[1806] against Luke’s scene of mob violence. In support of the opponents’ version, Luke’s mention of temple doors (21:30) could be construed as suggesting at least some involvement from the temple police in addition to the crowds (but see comment on Acts 21:34). But Lysias’s term for “arrest” in 23:27 (cf. 12:3; Luke 22:54) can simply mean “seize” and is so used by Paul in Acts 26:21 for “some Jews” (not the police). More important, Lysias’s remark that they were about to kill Paul—that is, lynch him—undercuts potentially positive legal connotations. Such immediate lynching seems to have been permitted for any who profaned the temple (see comment on Acts 21:28–29), but Lysias insists that the hearing before the Sanhedrin revealed no serious charges (23:29). (That verdict may be charged to Paul’s strategy of changing the subject [23:6–10].)

LYSIAS’S INVESTIGATION (23:28–29)

With so many Sadducees in the Sanhedrin, the brief hearing probably transpired in Greek; Paul probably also chose to use this language to ensure that Lysias would hear the genuinely religious nature of the charges. One could argue that Lysias needed to hear only the final summary in Greek,[1807] but Luke seems to make special note of when a speaker uses Aramaic (21:40; 22:2), though clearly not always (cf. 26:14 with 9:4).[1808] Although Lysias stood at some distance, Paul had been crying out in 23:6 (the imperfect ἔκραζεν, a verb that normally requires a loud voice; see BDAG).

The “questions about their law” would focus on Paul’s claim to a Pharisaic view of the resurrection (23:6), culminating a discussion that Paul had conducted about the law from the start (23:3, 5). Whether Gentile converts needed circumcision to belong to Israel was closer to the real issue (cf. 21:27–29), which Paul’s accusers would not reveal to the Romans (nor would it have helped Paul’s case for him to have presented himself as interested in proselytizing Romans, with or without circumcision).[1809] But because Paul’s entire understanding of the gospel rested on the risen Christ and because this claim was intelligible on his Pharisaic, but not on Sadducean, premises, he could legitimately claim resurrection as the central issue dividing those who could believe his teaching from those who could not. (The Pharisees, once past the initial incident of 23:6–9, undoubtedly would have regarded the issue as more complex than this. Paul’s enemies among the Sadducees could succeed in redefining the issues in his absence, once tempers cooled.) In either case, the purely religious issue would have seemed pedantic to the Romans.

Lysias’s account diplomatically omits the conflict in the Sanhedrin (23:9–10), which would create political tension that would pit Lysias and his career against local officials known to make trouble for Rome’s representatives.[1810] He affirms that Paul has done nothing worthy of death or “chains” (δεσμῶν, contra NRSV’s “imprisonment”),[1811] a preliminary opinion that will help shape Paul’s hearings before two Roman governors. Paul remains in detention (even if it is now primarily protective custody, his accusers must still have their say before the governor, 23:30, 35), though not in chains (22:29–30). The tribune’s “not guilty” verdict is reiterated repeatedly in the trial narratives (25:25; 26:30),[1812] matching Jesus’s “not guilty” verdicts in the Gospel (Luke 23:4, 14, 47), especially the phrase “I have found no guilt in him that would merit death” (23:22). Even if Rome finds some fault with Christian beliefs, Roman law should find nothing “worthy of death” (Luke 23:15; Acts 23:29; 25:11, 25; 26:31).

(4) Reasons for Referring Paul (23:30)

Local authorities could not send all cases to the governor (on referrals, see comment on Acts 23:34–35) and hence had to evaluate which cases they could dispose of and which required the governor’s oversight.[1813] Lysias thus explains why he must trouble the governor with this case—not primarily because Paul is a Roman citizen requiring trial (which would be sufficient cause, but his preliminary inquiry found Paul innocent [Acts 23:28–29]; and this would not justify a night flight with so many soldiers) but because there is a plot against his life. Although Lysias’s letter does not specify that chief priests are among Paul’s accusers,[1814] he offers little reason for summoning the accusers (23:30) other than the implication that the matter is politically sensitive, as Felix will soon see (24:1). From Lysias’s letter, Felix should recognize the moral propriety of acquitting Paul; Luke thus portrays Felix’s failure to do so (24:22–27) in a negative light, especially for readers in Italy, Greece, and Asia, where hopes for the impartiality of Roman justice ran higher than in some other regions.

Because the case load would be heavy in Caesarea, delays in receiving hearings would be likely. Perhaps Lysias grants Paul another favor by ordering Paul’s accusers to come to him quickly, without awaiting a summons.[1815] (Presumably he informs them of this plan the next morning, after Paul is safely gone and it is too late for them to propose another preliminary hearing with a different possible outcome.) Whatever Lysias’s motives, the matter will drag on for up to two years because the accusers are weighty in their own right and not ready to relinquish Paul readily.

Although Lysias is a sympathetic figure, he becomes part of a chain of events in which politics is preferred to justice; this preference was undoubtedly no less common in Roman provincial administration than it is in most international politics today. Nevertheless, Paul’s situation, like Jesus’s passion narrative, invites the attention of provincial readers who know and lament such injustices; the realities should be exposed, but the accounts of both Jesus and Paul offer hope in a providence greater than the might of Rome or the vagaries of human accusers. By referring Paul to the governor, Lysias evades direct responsibility for a political problem; when Felix cannot transfer Paul’s case to a more distant governor (23:34–35), he simply defers it until it becomes his successor’s problem (23:27). Paul relieves Felix’s successor, Festus, by appealing to Caesar, offering a new venue for the case with less political repercussions (25:10–12).[1816] In the same way, Pilate sought to refer Jesus’s case to Herod (Luke 23:7) and ultimately acceded to political demands in allowing Jesus to be crucified (23:23–24). Even in a nondemocratic imperial system, political considerations, careerism, and cowardice shaped perceptions of truth and the execution of “justice.” From Luke’s perspective, Paul’s opportunities to speak to Felix (esp. Acts 24:24–25), Festus, and Agrippa as well as later to Caesar’s tribunal (27:24) are providential, fulfilling the call for Jesus’s followers to testify before kings and “governors” (Luke 21:12–13; cf. Mark 13:9).

e. Roman Soldiers Bring Paul to Felix (23:31–35)

The soldiers execute their mission successfully, bringing Paul safely to the governor. From Luke’s larger perspective, the soldiers are agents of God’s care for Paul and the mission entrusted to him.

I. BY NIGHT TO ANTIPATRIS (23:31)

The soldiers undertake a forced night march to reach the greater safety of open country, where their numbers will count in their favor.[1817]

(1) Night Marches

Travel all night was typically reserved for emergencies, as in the case of the two hundred soldiers (a contingent roughly comparable to the one in Acts 23:23) in Jos. Life 90.[1818] On another occasion, a Roman decurion brought a hundred horsemen and about two hundred foot soldiers, marching all night, to oppose Josephus (Life 115). Military overnight marches were a strategy as early as the second millennium B.C.E.[1819] Most marches in the middle of the night went unintercepted and unhindered (e.g., Caesar Gall. W. 2.7), though they might be delayed by rain (Thucyd. 2.5.2). A night march could enable an army to take others by surprise;[1820] on night attacks, see comment at Acts 23:23.

Once in the open country, a Roman army was less susceptible to Judean guerrilla attacks (e.g., Jos. War 2.547; see further comment at Acts 23:23). Accounts in Josephus suggest that the danger would not be fully past until the soldiers reached “the boundaries of Judaea, i.e. as far as Antipatris.”[1821] Thus the infantry can head back to Jerusalem by day while the cavalry continue toward Caesarea at their preferred pace. Hengel submits that this report must come from an eyewitness.[1822]

(2) Plausibility

Could a forced march reach Antipatris in one night? Some scholars are skeptical.[1823] Hengel, who views the narrative as reliable in most of its details, concedes that the speed might be somewhat exaggerated.[1824] If Luke has erred in the imagined distance, he—as a Hellenistic historian in the Polybian tradition—would undoubtedly own the error as such, if confronted with it, and need to correct it (cf. Polyb. 12.17.1–12.22.7). Although such a possibility should be conceded, it is by no means a foregone conclusion. Luke himself knows the distance between Jerusalem and Caesarea and that it was not traveled quickly under normal circumstances (especially the first part, presumably on foot, Acts 23:31; see 21:15–17). He probably was not present on the march to Antipatris[1825] but presumably had some sense of its distance (indeed, if he had the report of the trip from Paul, the slower first part with many soldiers on foot may have seemed longer than it was).[1826]

Moreover, the appearance of impossibility diminishes in view of several other factors. First, the distance traversed may be less, and the time taken longer, than some have supposed, although these suggestions remain a matter of dispute. Some scholars argue that Antipatris was forty to forty-five miles from Jerusalem,[1827] which indeed would be difficult to imagine for a strictly night march (perhaps meaning until about 6:00 a.m.). Yet if the detachment left shortly after 9:00 p.m. (cf. 23:23), Luke might be forgiven for claiming that the soldiers brought Paul to Antipatris “by night,” when the bulk of the journey occurred, even if it continued into early daylight hours. If we allowed twelve hours, till 9:00 a.m., it would require less than four miles an hour, which might be feasible, though only if all the troops were in extremely fit condition.[1828]

Soldiers would normally march only eighteen miles (30 km.) in a day, but undertook thirty miles (50 km.) for forced marches.[1829] Marches were often four miles (6 km.) per hour because of pack animals and the soldiers’ heavy baggage, but they could travel with only bare essentials, and thus move considerably faster, for urgent missions.[1830] There are no pack animals in this case, and the soldiers need not carry supplies to set up camp; they have one forced march to Antipatris.

Certainly they were in fitter condition than most modern Western readers of the account, who tend to read our conditions into the narrative. In this period, troops ranged in age from seventeen to thirty-seven, on average.[1831] During training they had two periods of exercise daily, and thereafter a period of exercise daily in the army (or at least where military discipline was observed). Along with physical drills of jumping, swimming, and practice at arms, there were frequent reviews and maneuvers and route marches, undertaken three times per month, in which the unit in full pack was expected to march twenty miles per day at the rate of four miles per hour (thus in five hours). There were occasional forced marches to accomplish five Roman miles per hour,[1832] a pace that, if sustained, would readily allow this distance to be covered during the night. Caesar kept his troops in regular training, marching them “especially on rainy days and holidays,” and marching long to wear down the slower soldiers.[1833] Those inured to such exercise on a regular basis could push harder in a genuinely dangerous situation. One retreating army was said to have covered forty miles in a day, revealing its haste.[1834] Caesar himself reportedly was able to cover a hundred miles per day, traveling by carriage with little baggage (Suet. Jul. 57); even if (as seems likely) the estimate is exaggerated,[1835] it suggests the possibility of substantially increased speeds when necessary.

The distance here also is disputed, in part because the exact site of Antipatris is debated; thus estimates usually range from thirty-five to thirty-nine miles, though as high (as already noted) as forty-five.[1836] If the site is modern Ras el-‘Ain (one of the alternatives), the distance may be estimated at about thirty-five English miles, “demanding but not impossible” for an urgent journey.[1837] This would reduce the speed or hours in our estimate above (which was based on covering 40–45 mi.).

Second, the peril of robbers in the hill country at night rendered haste imperative;[1838] the need for the infantry to return quickly to the Antonia was likely also a factor in haste, though the uphill return journey undoubtedly took much longer. Exceptional circumstances demanded exceptional effort, for which soldiers were trained.[1839] Under normal circumstances, vehicles could travel twenty-five to thirty miles (38–45 km.) per day, though they could achieve more than forty miles (60 km.) when needed.[1840] By foot, soldiers normally averaged twenty to twenty-four miles (30–36 km.) per day (only 20 mi., or 30 km., if kept up for more than several weeks); on long journeys, a strong person could normally traverse fifteen to twenty miles (20–30 km.) per day.[1841] But this was merely the average speed, not exceptional speed.[1842] Xenophon indicates that Greek mercenaries a few centuries before “marched anything from 29 ([Anab.] 1.2.10) to 47 km. (1.2.6) a day (18–29 mi.) on the way to Cunaxa until they were near the enemy.”[1843]

Third, other factors could minimize some of the discomfort of the distance traveled. Most important, the journey to Antipatris was “mostly downhill.”[1844] (The difficulty of the hill country’s terrain[1845] might offset this benefit somewhat, but not completely.) In early summer, the journey might also be rendered somewhat easier by the cool of night as opposed to the heat of day.[1846]

Fourth and most significant is that Roman troops sometimes made such forced marches, as noted above with reference to exercises. A Roman army was known to march forty-five miles with full baggage and only three hours’ rest in twenty-eight hours (Caesar Gall. W. 7.40–41), or twenty-seven miles in one night under harsh conditions (Plut. M. Ant. 47.2).[1847] The cavalry could have gone much faster if left to themselves;[1848] mounted couriers, changing horses at stations about as far as Antipatris, could log up to 150 miles a day in emergencies.[1849] But the mountainous Judean terrain would be difficult to traverse as quickly at night in any case, so infantry reinforcements were a wise precaution.[1850] Finally, modern Western scholars’ estimates of speed do not match with the actual speed with which ancients, generally far less sedentary than their modern critics, made such journeys. One day sufficed for travel from Jerusalem to Sebaste, though it was forty-two miles (Jos. Ant. 15.292–93).[1851]

Taken together, these factors allow that the detachment could have reached Antipatris early the next day after a primarily nocturnal forced march. They do not require it, and Luke does not claim to be present during these events; but its plausibility remains worthier of consideration than is often assumed.

(3) The Route and Antipatris

The route that Paul and the troops took suggests accurate observations and is confirmed by other sources. Many scholars propose that Cestius Gallus and his troops followed the identical route in October 66 C.E. (Jos. War 2.515–16, 546–55; cf. 2.228).[1852] The route they followed was the shortest route to Antipatris; when Cadbury traced the route more than half a century ago, he found three Roman milestones not previously noted.[1853] Archaeologists have recently examined the other part of the route from Antipatris to Caesarea, discovering one of the two later Roman milestones, which reads, “ten miles from Caesarea.”[1854] Dar and Applebaum, who link Antipatris with Rosh Ha‘Ayin, note their discovery of Roman milestones on this road, and part of the road itself.[1855] Aerial photographs confirm signs of the route; parts of the Roman road are preserved still farther north.[1856] The north road appears to run more than twenty kilometers north of Antipatris, then, at Qalansawa, veers more toward the northeast, and finally proceeds almost twenty-five kilometers farther to Caesarea.[1857]

Antipatris was a strategically located town that also functioned as a mutatio, a military post, watching the border between Judea and Samaria.[1858] When Herod the Great founded Antipatris, he named it for his father, Antipater II (Jos. War 1.417; Ant. 16.142–43). It lies on the Sharon Plain, but, as noted above, disputes remain as to its exact site.[1859] Some place it about eight miles south of Kfar Saba; this site is better watered than Kfar Saba itself and would fit the description in Ant. 16.142–43. Others think that Kulat Ras el-‘Ain is a likelier site;[1860] it is possible that the site functioned only as a mutatio, and no longer a town, in this period.[1861] If Herodian Antipatris was Ras el-‘Ain, on the site of Hellenistic Pegae (with its fortress) and earlier Aphek, it had a paved cardo lined with shops and was burned by Vespasian in 68 C.E.[1862] In any case, the location as a natural stopping point between Jerusalem and Caesarea is not contested.[1863]

II. DAYLIGHT TRAVEL (23:32–33)

Once the soldiers reached open country, the infantry’s role was complete (Acts 23:32). Whereas the foot soldiers were necessary for safety in the Judean hills, they would only slow the cavalry down in the open country. The coastal plain had a lower proportion of Jewish inhabitants, had far fewer places beside the road for attackers to hide or seek to cut off the party (especially in broad daylight!), and would not be difficult for horses to traverse swiftly. See further comment on Acts 23:23, 31.

Would the foot soldiers really return to Jerusalem the next day (23:32)?[1864] Presumably they would have eaten and drunk before returning, but it might make sense for them to return immediately. Once word spread in Jerusalem that many had left,[1865] it was a wise precaution to return the garrison in Jerusalem to full strength as quickly as possible (unless it was festival strength, in which case it would not be necessary).[1866]

If Antipatris lacked enough provisions for possibly four hundred additional foot soldiers (23:23) to quarter there that coming night, they would need to proceed to Caesarea or head back to Jerusalem. If they did the latter (see 23:32), they would not want to be caught in the hills after nightfall, and so they needed to return immediately. This would require another forced march, perhaps not as quickly but now uphill. As noted above, we do have records of Roman troops making such forced marches for long periods, including a day and a night, even before engaging in battle. Happily, these troops, unlike those preparing for surprise attacks on enemy positions, will be able to rest for several days after returning to the Antonia. It is possible to construe Luke’s language more generally, as if they started back toward Jerusalem but slowly enough to spend the night on the road. This again would leave the problem, however, of finding a secure place to quarter four hundred troops at night; many Judeans in the hill country may have sympathized with the bandits (Jos. War 2.229).

The cavalry would reach Caesarea (Acts 23:33) well before dark (although they may not have driven hard); their officer and several others would immediately deliver Paul and the letter directly to Felix, following standard procedure (23:33).[1867] Since it was probably later in the day (again, depending on how hard the horses were driven) and certainly after noon, when a governor’s hours for meeting the public would end,[1868] it would not be unusual for Felix to postpone further inquiry for the moment (23:35). Nevertheless, he would have to give orders regarding Paul’s immediate custody arrangements (23:35). After the horses had been stabled, the men would be free to rest; Caesarea had facilities to hold large numbers of troops.[1869]

III. FELIX’S INITIAL DECISION (23:34–35)

Felix would have read the letter quickly (23:34). Although Luke may mean that Felix had the letter read—he would probably have a scribe or literate servant handy even after his public hours—he would have been literate and could have simply read it himself. Although Felix reading it himself is the easiest and most literal way to construe Luke’s phrase, having it read is equally possible; thus, for example, 2 Kgs 22:16 declares that “the king read,” when in fact Shaphan the scribe read to the king (22:10–11). Presumably he would have read it aloud in Paul’s hearing, since reading aloud was the usual practice.[1870]

(1) Learning Paul’s Province (23:34)

Upon meeting, it was customary to ask where a person was from,[1871] but Felix is not simply exchanging pleasantries. His question parallels Pilate’s asking if Jesus was a Galilean (Luke 23:6), then sending him to Herod Antipas, to whose jurisdiction he belonged (23:7).[1872] Such a question about one’s home province fits the legal process, though in the randomness of surviving evidence it is attested most frequently in the second century and later.[1873] Governors had legal jurisdiction to try the accused, whether or not from their province, for crimes committed in their province, but they also could extradite accused offenders to their home provinces (forum domicilii), an optional practice attested before this period and well established by the second century in some areas.[1874] If Felix wished to avoid the affair entirely, he could simply expel this Diaspora Jew from a province to which he did not belong (but this would not satisfy his accusers) or refuse jurisdiction.[1875] He had political reasons to wish to avoid the case, given the Sanhedrin’s apparent religious opinions (Acts 23:28–29), and if he could refer it to another, the trouble would not be his.[1876] If the case was referred, Paul’s accusers might even decide that the distance for the new hearing was too great, or their political leverage there too small, to be worth the trouble (cf. Acts 28:21).

Unfortunately for Felix, Cilicia Pedias (eastern Cilicia, which included Tarsus), like Judea, was, in precisely this period, part of the larger Roman province of Syria-Cilicia (cf. Gal 1:21).[1877] (Cilicia became a separate province again only under Vespasian in 72 C.E.;[1878] it was thus separate again when Luke was writing, according to our dating. Like many other points in Acts, this report reflects accurately the period depicted rather than the likely period of writing.) Thus it was under the legate of Syria, Felix’s superior; to try to transfer his own work to his busy superior was politically disadvantageous.[1879] Felix “was a responsible official within the same complex of jurisdiction” and would be expected to handle the matter unless he was unable to do so.[1880]

It has also been suggested, probably rightly, that changing the location of the trial, after the accusers had already been ordered to come, might have further strained Felix’s relations with the Sanhedrin.[1881] (The letter in Acts 23:26–30 does not specify that Paul’s accusers are in the Sanhedrin, but it implies that it was aware of, understood, and apparently supported the accusations.) Roman law preferred for accusers to show up at a trial, and so Felix would be making more trouble for himself by referring the matter to the legate of Syria than by handling it—or leaving it unhandled, as the case turned out—himself.[1882]

(2) Detained in the Praetorium (23:35)

This is one of the occasions where Luke omits an opportunity to parallel Jesus and Paul, perhaps because Jesus was only tried in a praetorium, not held there (Mark 15:16; Matt 27:27; John 18:28, 33; 19:9; not in Luke). The term πραιτώριον designates the Latin praetorium, originally a Roman officer’s tent;[1883] by this period, however, it meant (among other things) a provincial governor’s headquarters.[1884] Herod’s praetorium in Caesarea was one of Herod the Great’s many palaces in Palestine. The Romans used it just as they used Herod’s palace in Jerusalem[1885] and palaces elsewhere.[1886] Presumably Felix resided in part of this palace. When Judea had a Roman governor instead of a king, the palace would have remained vacant if the governor did not use it, unless Agrippa II and his sisters lived there.[1887] Caesarean soldiers may have plundered at least some items in this palace in 44 C.E. (cf. Jos. Ant. 19.357), but subsequent official residents would have had any damage repaired.

Excavations of the possible site reveal, not surprisingly, that the palace had many rooms as well as a bathhouse and other facilities;[1888] it included a “dining room facing a near Olympic size pool.”[1889] The palace may have been only four hundred meters from the inner harbor and was close to the theater and the amphitheater.[1890] A possible second palace attached to it would double its size.[1891] Later Christian religious activity on the site, including mentions of Paul,[1892] may recall Paul’s stay here, at least because of memory of the site of the original praetorium conjoined with knowledge of Acts.[1893]

A large number of prisoners were detained in Caesarea.[1894] The praetorium would be a more pleasant place of detention than others; Paul is a prisoner of high status, and such prisoners received better “custodial arrangements” than those with lower status.[1895] A favorable superior could help ensure even gentler guards, and the attention of a friendly centurion could provide a daily bath and visitors (Jos. Ant. 18.202). Felix may infer Paul’s status partly from Lysias’s special handling of him (unaware of Lysias’s embarrassing lapse in Acts 22:29). Felix may further surmise Paul’s innocence from Lysias’s letter (23:27–30); it was prudent to show benefaction toward a Roman citizen who might later go free, rather than unnecessarily risk potential future complaints to someone of influence. (He would not want to simply dismiss the case, however, since the Sanhedrin currently seems to disagree [23:28–29].) But other factors aside, the praetorium was also secure, a factor important in view of reported assassination “plots” (23:30).

That the circumstances in the praetorium were better than in some other places, however, does not suggest that any form of detention was pleasant. Paul could be kept in a cell, but if the praetorium is the palace currently identified as such in Caesarea, a room is more likely. Antipater was kept prisoner in this palace, within hearing range of his father Herod’s quarters (Jos. War 1.663; Ant. 17.184–87). Like Antipater, however, Paul was presumably guarded; he probably could not receive visitors yet, a situation remedied soon after (Acts 24:23).[1896] Although Paul’s situation would improve after his first hearing with Felix, when he was assigned as a high-status prisoner to a centurion (24:23),[1897] it was probably unpleasant for the few days (24:1) before the hearing. Given the tensions between Jews and Syrians in Caesarea under Felix and the likelihood that most of the guards were Syrians, his detention could have been less pleasant than that of the earlier Jewish prince who suffered there.[1898] Nevertheless, Paul’s Roman citizenship (Acts 22:25–29) and past participation in the Gentile mission in Antioch may well have provided him sufficient ability to connect culturally with his captors to reduce any tensions.

Both here and in the Antonia, Paul had probably depended for food (at least before any guests could arrive, 23:16; 24:23) on his Roman captors-benefactors.[1899] Any Jewish members of Luke’s audience may well have thought of purity regulations here (cf. 10:28). Rapske points out that Jewish prisoners were regarded as unclean (m. Moʾed Qaṭ. 3:1–2); some captured priests, to avoid this situation, lived on figs and nuts (Jos. Life 13–14), and R. Akiba allegedly intended to forgo eating in jail if the food was not properly prepared (b. Moʾed Qaṭ. 3; ʿErub. 21b).[1900] Cross-ethnic table sharing was important for Paul (Gal 2:11–14), and Luke concurs with this principle (Acts 11:3–18).[1901]

The governor must wait for Paul’s accusers (23:35), of whom he has learned from Lysias’s letter (23:30), because Roman law depended on delatores.[1902] By custom, even a governor eager to proceed would need to wait for an accuser before initiating proceedings (Cic. Verr. 2.2.38.94). The accused and accusers must meet face-to-face (Acts 25:18); this happened informally before (22:30, at least from Lysias’s standpoint, though these were not the original accusers [24:18–19]), but it must now happen officially under the auspices of Roman law.

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