To Whom Do You Belong
Acts 27:1–44 – The Story of the Church: Living Into This Drama in the 21st Century
Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany – February 13, 2022 (am)
According to legend…
Canute set his throne by the seashore and commanded the incoming tide to halt and not wet his feet and robes. Yet "continuing to rise as usual [the tide] dashed over his feet and legs without respect to his royal person. Then the king leapt backwards, saying: 'Let all men know how empty and worthless is the power of kings, for there is none worthy of the name, but He whom heaven, earth, and sea obey by eternal laws.'" He then hung his gold crown on a crucifix, and never wore it again "to the honour of God the almighty King" [1]
I had a similar experience when our kids were small. They were very amused when I stood in the surf on a beach and loudly forbade the waves from encroaching on my important personage. They were amused at both my impotence and my presumption. The sea answers to someone, but certainly not to you or me, and the ancient Hebrews, though not a seafaring nation, knew this to be true. Turn if you will, to Psalm 107:23
Some went down to the sea in ships,
doing business on the great waters;
24 they saw the deeds of the Lord,
his wondrous works in the deep.
25 For he commanded and raised the stormy wind,
which lifted up the waves of the sea.
26 They mounted up to heaven; they went down to the depths;
their courage melted away in their evil plight;
27 they reeled and staggered like drunken men
and were at their wits' end.[a]
28 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
29 He made the storm be still,
and the waves of the sea were hushed.
30 Then they were glad that the waters[b] were quiet,
and he brought them to their desired haven.
31 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wondrous works to the children of man!
So, this is the backdrop as we come to the final section in the book of Acts, and chapter 27 seems like some kind of anomaly, this stand-alone chapter drenched [pardon me!] by the author in great detail as he chronicles the seafaring adventure of the apostle Paul and his loyal friends. I use the word anomaly because as John Stott so succinctly wonders, why so much real estate in the narrative is given to what is surely a great story, but with so little to add to the overall message of the book? [2]
We know the basics of the story of course, and we will read it in its entirety during the course of this message. In a nutshell Paul has languished in various prisons for the past 2+ years, has defended himself before Kings and priests and lawyers and Roman magistrates, against vague charges patently untrue and without evidence. Yet Paul has been told by the Lord in Acts 23:11, “take courage, for as you have testified to the facts about me in Jerusalem, so you must testify also in Rome.” We know that he as a Roman citizen has appealed his case to Caesar himself, and as Festus states with some apparent finality in 25:12, “To Caesar you have appealed. To Caesar you shall go.”
Stott’s question still stands. What exactly is this story? Some have conjectured that it is an allegory where the sea represents the church, the storms represent the various trials that have beset the church over the years, and the journey to Rome represents the moral and spiritual wreck of the church over the centuries [3] Frankly, my eyes glaze over at this, and it does not seem like the text itself allows for this allegorical interpretation, especially coming from the pen of Luke for whom no historical and authenticating detail is too small or without importance to the coherence of the story he tells.
So, what is it then? Is it the story of the superman Paul? Is it kind of like an ancient version of Forest Gump, where Paul is in successive seasons of life, a scholar, a tradesman, a lawyer, fugitive, evangelist, wanderer, prisoner, and seafarer? Is this story another chapter in a travelogue? Is it a story of human endurance and persistence against all odds? Is it a biblical version of Homer’s Odyssey, where we hitch our wagons to the rising star of the apostle Paul, and vicariously root for him, acknowledging with a tip of the cap, the hand of God at work, in a similar manner that a Star Wars fan tips their hat to the vague presence of ‘the force.’ Of course, all of the above may be true in a way, because the reader brings the lens through which the drama is seen and appreciated.
What I would like to suggest here is that the story is among other things the pointed story of our lives, it is your story, and it is my story, for the believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, as well as those who have not yet bowed the knee to this keeper of the very seas. It is writ large, underlined, in bold font with pointed grace all over the place, and as we begin to see that, we might well be driven to our knees in tears, and then raised in tear-filled worship. And though it is our story, it is in the end a story of gospel rescue so incalculably vast that our own story becomes mercifully muted and properly proportioned in the beauty of a gospel salvation, wrought by the hand of the one who controls the frightening chaos of the oceans upon which we sail.
My plan is to read this text in three sections, and make some observations along the way, draw some conclusions and what I hope may be life changing applications. But first, let me set up some road markers along the way. First the story is importantly bracketed by the first verse and the last.
1. Our trials will take us to places we have never been! [vs. 1]
“When it was decided that we should sail for Italy…” The grammar of this is fascinating, yes? The first main point is that “it was decided” by someone other than Paul. Whatever else is going on here, it is clear from the outset that he is not the ‘master of his fate, he is not the captain of his soul.’ [4]
2. There is a ‘happily ever after’, and it is now but not yet! [vs. 44]
The last phrase in the last verse is important as a closing bracket as well…”and so it was that all were brought safely to land.” Two things to note: first, the story concludes gently and with a finality that has a particular satisfaction to it. Secondly, and more on this later as we conclude, it does not end with the words ‘and they lived happily ever after.’ Let me read vs 1-15”
To begin with, by my count there are 18 proper names of places and persons listed in the first 15 verses. This is characteristic of Luke. He is not concocting a fable. This route can be traced today in large degree. Second, notice how the character of Julius the centurion of the Augustan cohort is developed throughout. He has the authority to help or to hinder. He is wise enough to be kind. He has the authority to commandeer ships at sea. He also has the experience and wisdom to assess the character and integrity of his primary prisoner, Paul. But he makes a nearly fatal mistake in vs 10-12. The season for safe sailing is slipping away and the pressure brought on by haste nearly kills them all! Because the pilot and owner and commander did not want to overwinter in an uncongenial harbor they did not listen to Paul’s words and cast their fates upon the sea! I really like how Matthew Henry puts it, “They ran upon a mischief to avoid an inconvenience, as we often do.” [5] [this is the heading of my next observation.]
3. They ran upon a great mischief to avoid a small inconvenience. [vs12]
Is this beginning to sound like our story? “When it was decided that…” For how many of us, did we see the train of often great trial coming down the tracks? Do we live lives of perpetual haste where wise judgement is clouded by the tyranny of the urgent? [story of Jim Elliot and his friends trying to beat the train across the tracks. They escaped with their lives but Daddy’s car was not so much.[6]
4. Our trials will drive us along to places we never intended to go [vs 15]
We resonate with the statement in vs 14, “and when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven along. How like our own stories, yes? When a trial comes our first impulse is to fight, to seek another diagnosis, and well we should. We brace ourselves; we get our affairs in order. We deny the reality, we shore up our resources. But when the wave comes, it can hit hard, and long, and how often our only course is to ‘run before the wind!’ and we are like the ship, driven along to places we never intended to go.
Before we move to the next section, which is vs 16-32, I want to make a few observations that are interesting to me, and maybe to you as well. First, Paul was by some accounts the most experienced seafarer on the ship. Having faced numerous shipwrecks, having traveled some 3500 miles by sea his words of counsel were surely worth hearing. Also, reading that he changed ships is interesting. This grain freighter from Alexandria was one of a steady stream of ships whose task was to feed the Roman capital. Its size was enormous, and not just for its day. The oceans did not see larger ships until the early 1800s. Later we will learn that it held in addition to its massive cargo, 276 souls, roughly the number of people in our sanctuary this morning!
5. Be wary of the lifeboat! [v. 16]
Boy, where do we begin in this section. First there is this matter of the pesky little life boat! Coming under the somewhat protected leeward shore of the island of Cauda they do two things. First, they secure the ship’s life boat. [btw if I ever go on a cruise, I want to count the lifeboats, then I want to see a ship’s manifest, and they had better match up!] And I am not comforted to understand that it is almost impossible to launch a life boat in storm tossed seas!... Ironically it is best done only in calm waters! The second thing they do is to undergird the ship. This involves probably two things, they somehow wrap the hull with cables or strong rope to hold the grain filled hull together, and they may have also run a cable above deck from fore to aft [fun to use nautical terms!] in order that the ship would not break its back as it crested mountainous waves. They know one thing; the storm is gathering in intensity as they are being driven before the wind. But notice that the life boat comes into the picture again in vs. 30. Paul tells the captain that this boat is nothing more than a tempting means of secret and fatal escape. How difficult must it have been to cut the lines with a hatchet and watch it drop into the maelstrom below! So far has the authority of Paul risen in the eyes of the captain and crew! This too is part of our story is it not? We flirt with financial irresponsibility because we are waiting for the anticipated career change, or the long-awaited inheritance. [Many years ago, a young woman displayed a remarkable honesty at a prayer meeting when she confessed that she tended not to request prayer for something until she could already see the glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.] It is of course dangerous to be on a ship without a lifeboat, but the shadow of the lifeboat may become a roadblock to our rightful surrender and may keep us off our knees! I remember my great grandfather, approaching his 100th birthday, murmuring to himself over and over, “I am not a good provider, I am not a good provider.” His lifeboat for decade after decade was his ability to put food on the table and care for his family. That lifeboat was dashed upon the rocks of old age and infirmity, and we loved him all the more for his brokenness. It may have been that the cutting loose of the little boat was the hardest thing they did on this journey of many, many hard things.
6. It is not faithless to cry out in our desperation to the Lord [v.20] [repeat!]
I was particularly struck by the incongruity of vs 20, that Luke here confesses that “all of our hope of being saved was at last abandoned.” Wow! This sentiment from the man who had seen Paul and Silas freed from a Roman prison by an earthquake! And did not Paul already know via a promise from the Lord that he would indeed stand before Caesar in Acts 23:11,
11 The following night the Lord stood by him and said, “Take courage, for as you have testified to the facts about me in Jerusalem, so you must testify also in Rome.”
So, on what basis did they abandon all hope of being saved? Maybe Luke was referring to everyone except Paul? Perhaps, but then why would they not have drawn recurring and steady comfort from Paul’s strength? We probably cannot know for sure, but scripture itself may help us out here. In 2 Corinthians 1:8 we read:
8 For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers,[b] of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. 9 Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.
So, Paul is no stranger to the abandonment of hope. Could it be that we are being given a glimpse into the all too real tension of being human in the midst of trial? This is our story as well, is it not? I have said from this pulpit that every face in this place knows their place of suffering, and we do well to engage in the very human, and ordained, comfort that we can provide for one another. It has been said [and misattributed to lots of famous people] “Be kind to everyone, for everyone is fighting a hard battle.” [7] That humanness is not a sign of weakness, but of a grace imparted to us to cause us to cry out to a God who hears, or as Exodus 2 says of the suffering of the people of God, “God heard their cries and God knew.”
7. An umbrella of safety [vs 24]
The next scene is actually the hinge upon which the story of the shipwreck turns. We see Paul rise up above the fear and exhaustion of his shipmates and cellmates. He can be heard above the noise of the storm, above the shouting and the cursing and the crying to God that is happening all around him. He urges them to take heart, to know that they will indeed survive this catastrophic event, and that they, each of them had been granted to him. It is incredible really, that he could alone speak with such clarity, as such a time. It reminds me of the great Samuel Johnson quote:
“Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.” [6]
The amazing thing really is that they listened to him, to this prisoner in chains! On what basis does he offer hope? It’s simple really, an angel of God has spoken to him. Notice Paul’s description “the god to whom I belong, and whom I worship.” His is a voice of clarity and confidence, the only such voice on the ship. I am particularly struck by his words, “God has granted you all those who sail with you.” It is as if an umbrella of safety has been extended to those in his company. This is underscored a few verses later when some of the crew seek to lower the life boat under a pretext to escape. Paul’s stock has risen to the point where upon his word the lifeboat is cut loose rather than be allowed to be the instrument of their destruction!
It is worth pausing to think about this matter of an umbrella of safety around Paul. May that be said of us? I hope so, and it is altogether becoming for the church of Christ to be a place of safety, an oasis in a dangerous ocean. It surely ought to be true of us, yes? And it is a sword that cuts both ways, and I first want to speak to our friends this morning who don’t belong to Christ. It may well be that a grace has been given you if your spouse is a believer. It may be that you may thank whatever gods there might be for the safety in the company of a godly boss, partner, coworker, neighbor and friend. Now for believers this morning, are people safe and cared for in our midst? Is this place, Grace Church a place of safety and peace? Do children come through our doors visibly relaxed, knowing that bullying and meanness have no place here? Surely that must be the case. What better measuring stick of our own transformation is there? And may I add that this is precisely the reason that we have a pretty robust children’s protection policy. The integrity of our umbrella actually matters. It is at the core of who we are in Christ.
Before we move on to the next and final section, I want to reflect for a bit on verse 29:
29 And fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let down four anchors from the stern and prayed for day to come.
8. Cast four anchors and pray for dawn [vs.29]
I was struck by this because the sailors did all they could and then they knew what to pray for. To set four anchors from the bow was their attempt to slow the relentless advance of the ship upon the unseen but ever waiting reefs! It was an attempt to slow the game down. The point is this, when trial comes as it surely will, in all its overwhelming force, cast your anchors deeply in the strong and solid word of God, in the faithful care of the people of God, and cry out for blessed dawn. The night will not last forever, and it will be followed by a sunrise that may both surprise and amaze!
9. Take heart in the company of your shipmates [vs 33-35]
Are some bells going off in your head as you hear the words in vs. 35 where Paul says after urging them to take some nourishment,
35 And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat.
Do these words remind you of anything? Yes, they are almost identical to Jesus’ words at the feeding of the 5000 in Matthew 15. And certainly, reminiscent of Jesus’ words at the institution of The Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11:23-24 … he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, this is my body which is given for you…
It is difficult to believe that Luke is not trying to tell us something here! So, imagine my disappointment when I checked my bible notes on this only to be given this singularly not helpful information, “this was not a celebration of the Lord’s supper.” Okay fair enough, but surely it is not an incidental detail. What do the sailors and passengers do? First, they take a bit of food. They thereby became encouraged, all 276 of them. And then they went to work, and began dumping the cargo overboard. Ought that perhaps to be our best response to the Lord’s supper which we will celebrate shortly? To, in this ordinance, find encouragement for our souls, to seek and find that encouragement together, all of us, and then in the warmth of that encouragement, head for gospel work with a song in our hearts! May that be so for you and me today!
Also, note the actions of the centurion here at the end of the story. In the presence of the courage of Paul, he himself becomes a man with clarity of vision, a leader among men, and so may we!
10. Saved by the wreckage itself [vs 43-44]
As a final observation, consider this, that when the ship had to be abandoned, some swam for the beach, and some floated to shore on bits and pieces of the wreckage. In a way, the broken vessel became the means of salvation for many. Let me ask you/us this question. Have the trials of your life helped to build the strong and present foundation upon which your life now rests? That may well be so, and that is an unlooked-for grace. I believe that if time permitted, we could line up here at a mic stand and give testimony of how the wreckage of our lives has been used by God to become our rescue, as strange as that must surely sound.
Conclusion:
From point A to point B: God’s plan is designed to get you and me from point a to point b. Let me illustrate: In 1954 the ocean liner The SS United States won the coveted blue pennant, awarded to the fastest passenger ship transit from New York to London. For decades the blue pennant was sought and awarded. But 1954 was the last time. Why? Because 1954 was the year when the first jet airplane made the trip. Instead of three and a half days it took 5 hours! The SS United States has for decades been rusting away at a dock on a forgotten wharf in Philadelphia![8]
The predictions were that the large ocean-going passenger ship business had gone the way of the horse and buggy. But, no, it reinvented itself as the ‘cruise industry.’ Instead of transporting people from point a to point b, the experience of the cruise became the sole object. The ship would drop you off at the exact same place you boarded. The idea was to keep passengers on board, spending money from beginning to end. The story of the book of Acts is a journey with a purpose. The journey is that of the gospel. It travels from Jerusalem to Rome, inexorably, like a freight train. And we are on that gospel journey as well. We will not be the same people at the end as we were at the beginning. Praise God, yes?! In Christ we may be sure that we will be, like Paul and his companions, safely brought to land. It is a train that will not be derailed by any rock that falls from the sky, and what’s more, it cannot even be derailed by our own complicity, or distraction or grudging obedience. It may be that we will move from point a to point b clinging like Reepicheep [8] to the to the wreckage of our battered coracles, but even there the flotsam and jetsam will be sanctified as it were, put to holy use to enable us to complete the journey. That’s the first take-away.
The second take-away is a question actually. It is a question begged by Paul’s confession in vs. 23, and it is this: “To whom do you belong? Whom do you worship?”
There is a kind of presumption built into the question. Can you see it? The point is that we all belong to someone, and we all worship something. So, let me ask a follow up: Is the person to whom you belong worthy of all of your trust? Is the object of your worship worthy of your prayer, your cries for help? The most important lesson for us in this anomalous story is that there is one who is worthy, who commands the seas, who commands the hearts of men, who will never leave us as orphans, and who is even now praying for us and will come one day in dramatic rescue. For this reason, we don’t need a ‘happily ever after’ to conclude every chapter of our battles. That precious line has already been written. Does Paul live happily ever after as his journey progresses, even in chapters not recorded for us? Not so much. This is in the end a temporary deliverance. The real deliverance is yet to come. In this trial his resolve is tested and proven and more importantly his trust is validated one hundred times over. For him, to live is Christ and to die is gain. He will be brought safely from point a to point b, and so may we.
Amen
________________
Annotated bibliography:
1. quoted from Wikipedia, Henry of Huntington, chronicle, p. 199
2. Stott John, The Spirit, the Church and the World, p. 401. Stott’s exact quote was this: “Many readers of Acts, who have no problem with chapter 28… find great difficulty in chapter 27 … Why on earth did Luke devote so much of his precious space to this graphic but seemingly unedifying story?”
3. Ibid p. 402 [quoting from another commentator]
4. William Hedley, Invictus, [last line in the short poem]
5. Henry, Matthew, Commentary in one volume. p. 1744
[I enjoy Matthew Henry’s commentary because it is not technical, but devotional in its orientation]
6. Samuel Johnson, attributed
7. Skye Jethani, The Divine Commodity. This story is used by the author to illustrate the questionable model of the American mega-church which seeks above all to emphasize the experience of the typical church-goer, rather than walking with people that are changing everyday as they move from point a to point b according to the trajectory of the gospel.
8. C.S. Lewis, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Chronicles of Narnia.
“My own plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world into some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise.”
NEXT WEEK: And So We Came to Rome, Acts 28:1–31