The Man Who Stood Up For What He Believed

There's a scene in the 80s fantasy film The Neverending Story that Pete Farrington says made him deeply uneasy as a child. The protagonist Atreyu has to pass through the Sphinx Gate, where two sphinxes can see into a man's heart. Anyone who isn't found worthy gets killed with lasers that shoot out of their eyes. As Atreyu edges closer, he sees the corpses of those who've gone before him and been incinerated. And his mentor's words ring in his ears: "Don't start to doubt yourself. Be confident."

That really echoes the message of our age, doesn't it? Don't start to doubt yourself. Be confident. But Pete says there was something about that scene that hinted at something true—not in fantasy, but in reality. That there would one day be a test he wouldn't be able to pass. That he wouldn't find reason enough to have confidence. That there might be a judgment coming.

The Strange Conversation

In Acts 24, Paul finds himself before Felix, the Roman governor, and his wife Drusilla. Paul could have used this opportunity to plead for his freedom or protest the injustice he'd suffered. He could have joined the lawyer Tertullus in that cringeworthy flattery—praising the emperor for his beautiful clothes when the guy was in fact naked, like in Hans Christian Andersen's "The Emperor's New Clothes,"

But Paul does nothing of the sort. Instead, he chooses to speak to Felix about righteousness, self-control, and the coming judgment.

It's a peculiar choice of words to try and win someone over with.

From General to Specific

Pete broke down what Paul was doing. When we think of righteousness, words come to mind like morality, perfection, purity, light, goodness. Any reasonable person will affirm and approve of all those things. They're general terms that everyone can agree on.

But Paul moves from the general to the specific. He goes from speaking about righteousness to self-control. And self-control really has to do with a person's will and determination to live according to a prescribed manner—something which Felix displayed nothing of with his lifestyle choices.

It was well known that Felix took bribes and that he had seduced Drusilla while she was still legally married to her first husband. Both of them were living in adultery. The Roman historian Tacitus described Felix as "a master of cruelty and lust, who exercised the powers of a king with the spirit of a slave."

Pretty damning.

So this wasn't merely an intellectual discussion about morality. With his reasoning, Paul was cutting right to the heart of the issue. Following Christ would have meant Felix giving up license to live according to his fleshly desires. It would have meant giving up the sin he loved. It would have meant a total reordering of his loves.

The Coming Judgment

Pete said he could have avoided the next part and pretended it wasn't there. He could have spoken to us just like Tertullus would. But he wasn't going to.

Paul then speaks of a coming judgment. And we see that Felix was alarmed and said, "Go away for the present. When I get an opportunity, I will summon you."

We kind of have the tendency to be like that, don't we? We hold God at arm's length, and yet we want to keep him close enough in case we have need of him, or he might benefit us in some way.

So Paul, this prisoner, the man on trial, tells the one with the power over his life and his freedom that there is a coming judgment. The gospel is the great equaliser. It flips everything upside down. And just as Felix was alarmed, we all have reason to be alarmed. We all have reason to tremble.

"Only God can judge us" is just not the flex that we think it is.

Pete quoted C.S. Lewis, who said that at first Christianity presents us with terrifying facts. And it's those facts about Christianity that got Felix alarmed. An old preacher called Martin Lloyd Jones said this:

"Have you ever trembled? Have you ever been disturbed? Have you felt concerned? Have you ever become anxious? If not, you have never heard this gospel. No man can truly hear this gospel without knowing something about trembling."

When Did Insecurity Enter the Picture?

Pete shared that as a child, he would occasionally have dreams in which he was being crushed by cosmic objects—huge things spinning out of control, about to crush him. This feeling of not having confidence, knowing that he didn't have it in him to save himself, really troubled him.

It might be tempting to call this self-esteem problems and leave it there as if we've settled the issue. But low self-esteem was a symptom. You can find many effective ways of dealing with symptoms in the world. But we have never been able to treat the cause.

You can feel confident when you've been in a certain environment a number of times and you know what you're doing. When you're experienced or skilled at something. When you've got a certain title or qualification. But what if all of those things were stripped away?

Pete asked: when did insecurity first enter the picture? When did fear and trembling first enter the picture?

We have to go all the way back to the garden in Genesis. It was when Adam and Eve were no longer sure of their standing before God. They heard him walking in the cool of the day and they trembled and hid. Why? There hadn't been any death, no childhood trauma, no pain from their upbringings. They were just naked in their sin.

We go to great lengths to project the appearance of confidence—much of social media is used for that very purpose. But there's a difference between projecting an appearance of confidence and having a lasting, eternal certainty and hope that isn't contingent on material things or circumstance or the connections you have.

Paul Knew What It Was to Tremble

When Paul was speaking of righteousness and self-control, he wasn't being self-righteous. He too knew what it was to be alarmed. On the road to Damascus, as he was on his way to persecute Christians, Jesus met him powerfully. Acts 9:6 says that Paul, "trembling and astonished, said, Lord, what do you want me to do?"

Pete painted a picture: imagine being invited to a church in the first century. Your friends are introducing you to people. "Oh, that guy over there? His name's Paul. Yeah, he used to round us Christians up, imprison us, persecute us, and kill us. He even stood by in approval of the stoning of our good friend Stephen."

And do you know what's incredible? That guy has confidence. He has hope. Which is insane, because if there's a coming judgment, surely someone like Paul has got it coming for him. Surely he should not have even a shred of confidence.

But Paul looks to that day, and he has a hope. In verse 15 of his defence, he speaks of "having a hope in God, that there will be a resurrection of both the just and the unjust."

Hidden in Christ

It is no accident that this mention of hope and resurrection is just eight verses apart from when Paul talks about coming judgment. When Paul spoke of resurrection, he knew what would accompany it.

Acts 17:31 says: "He commands all people everywhere to repent because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed"—that man being Jesus—"and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead."

But Paul has hope. He has confidence. Not because he got himself a life coach or a guru, like Atreyu in The Neverending Story. It wasn't because he'd repeated to himself, "Don't start to doubt yourself, be confident."

Paul was confident because he had hidden himself in Christ.

The source of all insecurity, ultimately, comes from being unsure of your standing before God—the one on whom you depend for every breath you take. And conversely, the source of all hope and true confidence—not just the appearance of confidence, like being a good public speaker, but real certainty and assurance—comes from being hidden in Christ and the righteousness that only he can clothe you in.

Because if you're impure or unrighteous, which we all are if left to our own devices, God's presence is dangerous to you. And that's not because it's bad, but because it's so good. Think of it like the sun. The sun is a source of life. We couldn't and wouldn't exist without it. But it is dangerous. You get too close, and you die.

But Jesus Christ has made a way for us to stand in the centre, in the white hot heat of his glory, and enjoy it forever, and for it to be our greatest treasure and our eternal joy.

The Weight of Glory

Pete quoted C.S. Lewis again, from a sermon called The Weight of Glory:

"In the end, that face, which is the delight or terror of the universe, must be turned upon each of us, either with one expression or the other, either conferring glory inexpressible or inflicting shame that can never be cured or disguised. The promise of glory is the promise, almost incredible and only possible by the work of Christ, that some of us, that any of us who really chooses shall actually survive that examination, shall find approval, shall please God. To please God, to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness, to be loved by God, not merely pitied or tolerated, but delighted in. As an artist delights in his work, or a father in his son, it seems impossible a weight of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is."

But so it is.

Don't Delay

There is one more lesson in this story with Felix that we cannot avoid. Felix sent Paul away and said, "I'll call upon you again at a more convenient time."

Pete confessed he's the type of person who has 20 open tabs on his browser that he thinks he'll come back to at some point—blogs or articles that have caught his eye but he just hasn't gotten around to reading. Or tasks on Google Calendar that he just keeps moving along every day. Didn't get it done today but that's alright, just slide it across. We think we're going to live forever.

Due to technological advances, we're pretty much able to push the reality of death far from our minds compared to generations gone before us. But James 4:14 says: "You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes."

Drusilla probably thought she had more time when she was in Pompeii with her son Agrippa on 24th of August in 79 AD. She died that day in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

And Felix probably thought he had more time to enjoy his position as governor. But just two years later he was stripped of his position, his title, his influence. Everything upon which his confidence rested was gone in an instant.

Pete ended with a quote from Paul Washer: "With one hand, God is motioning man to come to him. He's pleading with man to come to him." That's what Paul was doing with Felix—reasoning with him, pleading with him to come to God. Christ has made a way for us to stand in the white hot heat of his presence and his glory and his righteousness. "With the other hand, God is holding back his wrath. And soon he's going to drop both hands."

The message? Do not delay. Come to Christ today and clothe yourself in the righteousness that he offers you freely.

Conversation Street

What does righteousness mean?

Anna described it as "God's rightness, God's perfection"—the perfectness of God against our imperfect human nature. Matt added that righteousness means right standing with God, the ability to boldly enter God's throne of grace. The core message of Christianity is that no one can attain God's righteousness through their own effort—but Christ offers it to us freely.

What does "clothe yourself in righteousness" mean?

Anna pointed out that "clothe yourself" sounds like something you choose to put on. You don't have to—it's a choice to wear it or not. There's a difference between false humility ("I must be a worm") and arrogance. True confidence isn't about being full of yourself—it's about confidence in God.

Does God forgive all sins?

Yes—if we confess them. The Bible says if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins. God has forgiven all sin through Christ's work on the cross, but we have to receive that forgiveness. Matt noted there is one "unforgivable sin" mentioned in Scripture, but reassured viewers that the qualifications to commit it are so specific that none of us watching need worry about it.

Is Christianity centred around forgiveness?

Absolutely. And it's good news for all of us, because we all need forgiveness. But there are two sides: we have to ask for forgiveness for ourselves, and we have to extend it to others—even if they haven't asked for it. Anna added that forgiveness isn't the same as forgetting. You can forgive something but still maintain clear boundaries.

Your Next Step

Here are some practical ways to engage with this:

1. Examine your confidence – Is your confidence based on skills, titles, qualifications, or circumstances? What would happen if those were stripped away? Consider where your true security comes from.

2. Don't delay the big questions – Felix kept putting off the conversation. Are there spiritual questions you've been sliding across to "tomorrow"? What's stopping you from engaging with them today?

3. Consider the trembling – Martin Lloyd Jones said no one can truly hear the gospel without knowing something about trembling. Have you ever felt the weight of God's holiness? That's not something to run from—it's the beginning of understanding grace.

4. Hide yourself in Christ – If insecurity comes from being unsure of your standing before God, the answer isn't more self-confidence. It's finding your security in Christ's righteousness, not your own.

5. Don't wait for a "convenient time" – Felix never got his convenient time. Drusilla died in Pompeii. Life is a mist. If you've been putting off responding to God, today is the day.

A Delight, Not a Terror

Pete's closing image is striking: God with one hand motioning us to come, with the other holding back judgment. Christ has made a way for the face of God—which C.S. Lewis called "the delight or terror of the universe"—to be turned upon us with delight rather than terror.

To please God. To be loved by God, not merely pitied or tolerated, but delighted in. As an artist delights in his work, or a father in his son.

It seems impossible—a weight of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.

Do not delay.