Um, I have a confession to make in front of everybody. I one time chose a different pepper grinder on Amazon because it got delivered a day earlier. Had nothing to do with the quality, right? I just remember thinking, I don't need quality, I need it tomorrow. Has anybody else ever done this? Okay, good. It wasn't just me. Because I remember a day when two-day shipping sounded magical, but now if it doesn't arrive tomorrow, I'm offended. I am offended by waiting 48 hours. That's forever. And we live in a world that's like this now. We live in a world that hates waiting. We can get almost anything on demand, right? Same-day delivery, streaming services. We've got all the answers in our pocket on our phone. But I've noticed that God does his deepest work in us slowly. Oftentimes it's when we feel stuck. So today we're going to look at Acts 24. Paul is in that kind of season and he's stuck in the legal system. His ministry is traveling at that time and it's on hold. He's sitting in jail and he didn't even do anything wrong. But he doesn't shut down. He bears witness. So let's take a look together at Acts, starting at verse 10. It says, When the governor motioned for him to speak, Paul replied, I know that for a number of years you have been a judge over this nation, so I gladly make my defense. You can easily verify that no more than twelve days ago I was I went up to Jerusalem to worship. My accusers did not find me arguing with anyone at the temple or stirring up a crowd in the synagogues or anywhere else in the city, and they cannot prove to you the charges they are now making against me. However, I admit that I worship the God of our ancestors as a follower of the way, which they call a sect. I believe everything that is in accordance with the law, and that is written in the prophets. And I have the same hope in God as these men themselves have, that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked. So I strive to always keep my conscience clear before God and man. After an absence of several years, I came to Jerusalem to be to bring my people gifts for the poor and present offerings. I was ceremonially clean when they found me in the temple courts doing this. There was no crowd with me, nor did I involve was I involved in any disturbance. But there are some Jews from the province of Asia who ought to be here before you and bring charges if they have anything against me. Or those that are here should state what crime they found in me when I stood before the Sanhedrin. Unless it was the one thing I shouted as I stood in their presence, it is concerning the resurrection of the dead that I am here on trial before you today. So Paul's standing before the governor named Felix to answer false charges. And he doesn't do what I would do and explode. He doesn't spiral into self-pity, also what I might do. He calmly explains what he's done, what he believes. And in verse 16, I don't know if you caught this, he said, So I strive always to keep my conscience clear before God and man. He is able to wait without being consumed by resentment because his conscience is clear. I will work as if I'm working for Jesus, not just my boss. If you do that, your choice might cost you in the short term, right? There'll be an awkward meeting, maybe a hit to your reputation. But over time, that kind of integrity becomes a witness. People start to notice that you don't play the office politics the same. You become the person that others trust with hard news and difficult conversations. That's bearing witness while waiting. Not with a microphone, but with a clear conscience. In the time we live, in a time full of political tension and outrage, our culture is really quick to accuse. Our culture is slow to verify facts. Our culture is eager to cancel and condemn. And as Jesus followers, we're tempted to do the same. But bearing a wit be bearing witness might look like refusing to share those posts that you haven't fact-checked, speaking about people you disagree with as image bearers instead of enemies. In the middle of workplace pressure, online outrage, and relational conflict, could you honestly say with Paul, I strive to keep my conscience clear before God and people? Because Paul doesn't just defend himself. In verse 15, we also see that he confesses, I have the same hope in God that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked. His hope is not in a favorable court decision. His hope is not in a political shift or a sudden change in circumstances. His hope is in the resurrection. His hope is knowing that Jesus is alive and justice is ultimately in God's hands. Recently, we've seen so much war, we've seen conflicts displacing millions of people around the globe, an ongoing mental health crisis, economic uncertainty, rising costs, job insecurities, social fragmentation, distrust. If your hope is tied only to this life, if your hope is tied to this quarter's numbers, this election, this job market, the weight of the news can crush you. But Jesus, if Jesus really rose from the dead, then history is not random. If Jesus really rose from the dead, then injustice does not get the last word. If Jesus really rose from the dead, then suffering is not meaningless. Death itself is not the end. There are churches today in places of active conflict where believers gather in basements and damaged buildings and they're worshiping. Some have lost loved ones and homes. Many don't know what tomorrow holds. Yet they pray for their enemies. They share the scarce resources with neighbors. They keep singing about the hope of Jesus. They are bearing witness while waiting. While they're waiting for safety, for peace, for justice, because their hope is anchored in the resurrection, not in stable headlines. When we read news, talk about politics, or face uncertainty at work, I wonder, do we sound like someone whose hope rises and falls with the headlines, or like someone whose hope is quietly and stubbornly rooted in a risen Savior? So let's go back to Paul, starting at verse 22. Then Felix, who was well acquainted with the way, adjourned the proceedings. When the commander comes, he said, I will decide your case. He ordered the centurion to keep Paul under guard, but to give him some freedom and permit his friends to take care of his needs. Several days later, Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Jesus. As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control, and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, That's enough for now. You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you. At the same time, he was hoping that Paul would offer him a bribe, so he sent for him frequently and talked with him. When two years had passed, Felix was succeeded by Portius Festus. But because Felix wanted to grant a favor to the Jews, he left Paul in prison. So Felix and his wife sent for Paul to hear about his faith in Jesus. Paul knows that Felix is not only powerful, but he's corrupt, right? And Paul knows that his legal outcome depends on Felix. But Paul cares more about Felix's soul than he does his own comfort. He doesn't flatter him, he doesn't avoid hard truths. He talks about righteousness, self-control, and judgment, which are the exact things that Felix struggles with. I think about doctors delivering test results. If a test result's showing something serious, love doesn't say, you'll be fine, don't worry about it. They don't want to avoid, they want to avoid the awkward moment. Is that what doctors do? Love tells truth clearly, but with compassion, a plan, and a willingness to walk with the patient. And that's what Paul does here. He's not condemning Felix just because it's fun. He's inviting him into reality so he can find mercy in Jesus. Most of us don't need to defend ourselves in court, but we all have Felix moments. We have a colleague who opens up about their marriage falling apart, a friend who confesses they're self-medicating with alcohol or porn, a family member who says, I don't see why any of this God stuff matters. In those moments, bearing witness might mean gently saying, Can I tell you how Jesus met me in a similar space? Naming sin for what it is, but doing it with tears in your eyes and compassion in your heart instead of a judgment on your face. Offering to pray right then, not just saying, I'll pray for you and walking away, saving it for later. We are not responsible for how people respond. I mean, Felix got scared, right? And he pushed Paul away. But we are responsible to speak truth in love when God opens the door. We see that Felix brushes Paul off and he says, When I find it convenient, I will send for you. And then we see when two years had passed, Felix left Paul in prison. Two years, you guys. No resolution, no closure, no happy ending at this point. From the outside, it looks like nothing is happening. But God is using this time to give Paul repeated access to powerful people. God is using this time to deepen Paul's dependence on Jesus. And he's setting up the next chapter of Paul's story, right? Paul's journey to Rome. When I read two years, I immediately felt a connection with this time in Paul's life. Many of you have prayed with me and for me, as my husband has navigated some pretty complicated medical issues and procedures. He needed a life-saving surgery, but complications just kept coming up. And there were other procedures that needed to be done before the big surgery could happen. His medical complexity on top of everything made it hard to find a surgeon who was actually willing to do this surgery at all. Almost every one of my friends and family members, with love in their eyes, and usually in a hushed voice, asked me if I thought it might just be time for Chris to go. Some people wondered if I was advocating more for my own peace than for a successful outcome. After all, it had been nearly six years of constant surgeries and doctor's appointments. I'd stepped away from pastoring the church that God had me start to make sure that Chris was getting the care he needed and to be available for nearly daily appointments. Maybe they said it was time to let things run their course and get back to ministry. But like Paul's story from the outside, it looked like nothing was happening, but God was using that time. He used it to give me access to people I otherwise would have never known. After hundreds, and I do mean hundreds, of appointments, I got to know many of the doctors and nurses beyond the typical provider patient relationship. I learned about them as people. I learned the sports that their kids play, what their hobbies were, when their birthdays are, and what kind of treat to bring them to celebrate. I've been able to share my faith, pray for personal situations and family members with some of them. And I've even gotten to become good friends with some after their part of Chris's care was completed. I've gotten to comfort and pray with strangers in surgical waiting rooms. And I even one time got the chance to hug the guy who cleans hospital rooms shortly after his mom died. We forget that ministry usually doesn't look like what I'm doing right now. Ministry doesn't usually look like standing here with a microphone. Ministry happens in our everyday lives, even when we're waiting. That was kind of big, so I'm going to say that one again. Okay. We forget that ministry doesn't usually look like standing here with a microphone. Ministry happens in our everyday lives, even when we're waiting. And just like he did with Paul, God used this long wait time to deepen my dependence on Jesus. Because I knew what my husband's situation looked like better than anyone else. Six years is a really long time to wait. Thankfully, God was there waiting too. I know this isn't exclusive to me or to Paul. Maybe you're here today and you're in a season of waiting. Maybe it's a friend with a substance use disorder who keeps relapsing, a deeply divided workplace or family, justice reforms that feel painfully overdue. You pray for months or years, and it can feel like nothing is happening. And then suddenly the door cracks just a little bit. And the person with substance use disorder finally agrees to treatment. A conflict that felt impossible begins to soften. A small group here at Madison Church quietly keeps serving. Gradually people's lives start to change. Often when you look back, you realize God was working under the surface while you weren't watching, while you were waiting. Right here in Madison, there are Jesus followers who've been serving in the same neighborhood for years, constantly serving with the same nonprofit, showing up for the same co-workers through layoffs and leadership changes, praying for their workplace or their block for a decade or more. They aren't on stage. Most people never even notice them. But over time, their quiet presence, their consistent kindness, and their willingness to speak about Jesus shape the spiritual climate of that place. That is bearing witness while waiting. It's a long obedience in the same direction. It's playing the long game. Where are you tempted to right now say, this isn't working? I'm done. I'm out. What if that very place is where God is inviting you to stay? To keep praying, to keep showing up, to keep bearing witness a little longer. Paul's example gives us a few practical ways that we can bear witness while we wait. And I promise I'm gonna go through these and wrap it up, okay? I know I'm talking forever, but guard your conscience, first of all, guard your conscience before you speak or post. Ask yourself, is this true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? We've all heard that, but do we put it in practice? Sometimes. In your job, am I honest with my time, my expense reports, my words about others? In relationships, ask yourself: Am I choosing forgiveness or rehearsing bitterness? Another thing we can do is stay rooted in hope, not headlines. Build rhythms that feed your hope, prayer, worship, regular time, and connections spent with other Jesus followers. Pay attention to how much news and media you're consuming and how that's shaping your emotional world. When you hear about wars and disasters or political turmoil, which is sometimes hourly, right? Let your first instinct be to pray, not just panic. Number three, look for divine appointments in ordinary places. Your Felix might be your boss under pressure, a coworker quietly going through a divorce, a neighbor who just lost a spouse. Maybe it's a classmate or a coworker who's wrestling with anxiety or purpose. Ask God, who are you putting me in front of today? And then be willing to listen more than you speak. Offer to pray. Share a short story, honestly, about God's faithfulness in your own time waiting. Tell the truth in love. Let's not reduce the gospel to be nice, be spiritual. Be ready to name Jesus as the source of your hope, not just vague positivity. Hold grace and truth together, kindness without compromise, conviction without cruelty. And finally, refuse to waste the weight. That's a big one. Are you saying to yourself, when this situation changes, then I'll serve God? Or are you asking God, how do you want to use me right here, right now? That might look like just taking someone to work, someone at work to coffee, just encouraging them, starting or joining a small group in your office or in your neighborhood, saying yes to an area of service here at Madison Church that nobody actually pays attention to or applauds. Acts 24 ends with Paul still in custody. There's no pretty bow on this story yet, but God is working. From this time of waiting, Paul will eventually go to Rome. He'll testify before more leaders. He'll write letters that still shape us today. Your waiting might feel like a dead end. A stalled career, a long illness, a family situation that just won't move. But in Jesus, your waiting room can be your mission field. You can bear witness while waiting by keeping a clear conscience, anchoring your hope in the resurrection, not the latest crisis. speaking the truth in love, even when it's awkward or costly, and staying faithful when the wait is long and unfair.