Acts 27:1-44

Introduction

That’s the basic spiritual lesson in Acts 27. Humanity flounders helplessly; and without God, hopelessly. Jesus had already told Paul he would witness in Rome (Acts 23:11). Here the apostle received a reaffirmation of that promise in a frightening, life-threatening situation. That’s the way we live our lives, though not always in physical danger. So many struggles, so many decisions leave us both helpless and hopeless. In those lonely hours we throw ourselves upon God’s sovereignty and trust his providence to provide whatever rescue we need.

The Ship (1-12)

SUPPORTING IDEA: You may have a word from God but still not be able to determine the course of action that affects your life.

Acts 27:1–2. Here the fourth “we” section of Acts appears, indicating Luke accompanied Paul across the Mediterranean and could, therefore, give us an eyewitness report. The expedition was under the command of Centurion Julius of the Imperial Regiment, a group particularly useful to Caesar in times of military intrigue.

Their ship sailed from Adramyttium, a harbor on the west coast of Asia Minor, just southeast of Troas. Obviously, Paul’s party boarded the ship at Caesarea. Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica, was part of the party. Paul mentions him in Colossians 4:10 and Philemon 24. We should probably think of him as a member of the missionary team, though surely he appeared to Julius and his troops as Paul’s servant. It would not be unusual for a well-educated Roman citizen, even one being sent to Rome as a prisoner, to travel with his friends, perhaps even a personal physician.

Acts 27:3. Their first stop lay seventy nautical miles north of Caesarea, the old Phoenician port of Sidon. While the crew took care of the cargo, Paul visited Christians in that town. Perhaps the Sidonian church was founded by the scattered Hellenists (Acts 11:19).

Julius behaved much like Lysias in Jerusalem, a thoroughly professional officer with a tendency toward kindness when it seemed warranted. The word needs surely refers to food and other items Paul’s party may have required on board. I use the word cruise jokingly in the title; on these Spartan ships it was every passenger for himself.

We find friends interesting, since Paul had never been to Sidon. Some suggest Christians commonly used this term of themselves (3 John 14), based on the disciples’ experience with Jesus (Luke 12:4; John 11:11; 15:13–15).

Acts 27:4–5. Luke had been on enough voyages with Paul to pick up some sailor talk, so he tells us that they passed to the lee of Cyprus which means they stayed close to the long east coast of the island because of westerly winds. Two-and-a-half years earlier, Paul’s ship had sailed with that prevailing west wind to Tyre, passing Cyprus on the south. This time tacking would have been important (directing a ship first starboard and then port so that one does not try to sail directly into the wind); protecting the vessel by using Cyprus as a shield made a lot of sense. Most experts agree that the voyage from Cyprus to Myra could well have taken about fifteen days and covered over four hundred nautical miles.

In the first century, Myra had become an increasingly popular port (particularly for grain ships sailing from Alexandria to Rome). It would have been impossible to set a direct northwesterly course for that important commercial journey, so a 90-degree angle at Myra had become a popular pattern.

Longenecker tells us that Myra “was the most illustrious city in Lycia, with distinguished public buildings, a very large theater, and many evidences of wealth” (Longenecker, 558).

Acts 27:6–8. Apparently an Alexandrian grain ship was available, so Julius transferred his party on board. Polhill describes the type of vessel.

Such ships seemed to have been privately owned and leased by the Roman government. Adequate supply of grain was absolutely essential to the stability of the empire and seems to have been closely regulated by the state. Grain ships were usually quite large, sometimes in excess of a thousand tons and over a hundred feet in length (Polhill, 517).

Regardless of its size, the ship was no match for Mediterranean weather. With difficulty, it reached the Asiatic coastal city of Cnidus, another 130 miles from Myra. There the west winds would not allow the pilot to make port, so they headed south for the safety of Crete and hugged its southern coast until they reached Fair Havens, just about the center of the 160-mile long island. The normal route for an Alexandrian grain ship would have taken them across the northern coast of Crete, but this ship was apparently fighting for its life already and probably thrilled to make port at Fair Havens, the modern-day town of Limeonas Kalous. Twice Luke has used the word lee which does not mean left or right, north or south, but a position which offers shelter from a prevailing wind.

Acts 27:9–10. Up to now Luke has given us meticulous geographical detail so that we can reconstruct the journey on an ancient map. Now he drops in a time reference to tell us winter was rapidly approaching. By Fast Luke refers to the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) sometime toward the end of September or the beginning of October of either A.D. 59 or 60. The ship had lost precious time struggling from Myra to Fair Havens, so it seemed impossible to cross the open sea for Italy and arrive there before winter. Longenecker is quite precise in describing the problem:

“Navigation in this part of the Mediterranean was always dangerous after 14 September and was considered impossible after 11 November” (Longenecker, 559).

Paul was a seasoned traveler in these waters, though he had not yet seen anything like the late fall Mediterranean between Crete and Italy. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to give the others his viewpoint and predicted disaster if they sailed any farther. We should understand that Paul did not pretend to be a nautical genius; he merely based his viewpoint on what all knowledgeable people in the Mediterranean world understood as the shipping patterns and dangers of that threatening body of water.

We wonder, to whom might Paul have addressed this remark? Since verse 10 begins with a plural, we assume it was not just the centurion alone. Perhaps by this time Paul’s wisdom had become obvious, so that both officers and sailors listened to him.

Acts 27:11–12. If this council, either formal or informal, was intended to convince the centurion of the best decision, we can hardly fault him for following the advice of the pilot instead of the opinions of a prisoner. In 1 Corinthians 12:28 Paul used pilot (kubernete) to describe the gift of administration. The pilot (or captain) would have been in charge of all navigational decisions, though in this particular case the owner of the ship happened to be on board. We can certainly see why he would press for a tighter schedule for reasons of commercial profit. Even he did not favor going on to Rome, but the majority decided to head for Phoenix, a larger and safer port about forty miles west.

Scholars have mused over Luke’s description of the harbor at Phoenix, facing both southwest and northwest. Most agree he describes modern Phineka Bay on the west side of Cape Mouros. We can picture it as a half-moon harbor with entrance from the west and, therefore, shelter from strong northeast winds. Up to this point the ship’s problem had come from westerly winds, but that was about to change very quickly.

The Storm (13-38)

SUPPORTING IDEA: In the face of disaster, when all hope is gone, trust in the promises of God.

Acts 27:13–15. At first the plan seemed solid. With a gentle south wind the ship edged along the coast making its way west to Phoenix. Before very long a “northeaster” hit them from over the top of the island and simply took over the ship. Different places call such storm winds different things. In Texas we keep an eye on the northwest sky for a “blue norther” during which the skies turn a frightening dark purple and the temperature can plummet fifty degrees in an hour or two. In the Pacific it’s a typhoon; in the Atlantic or Gulf of Mexico, a hurricane. Here it was Euroquilo, derived from the Greek word for “east wind” and the Latin word for “north wind.” They intended to head ever so carefully northwest, but with Euroquilo behind them they could only let the ship drift southwest toward the African coastal city of Cyrene. Though we cannot be sure, by his words we gave way to it, Luke may mean they trimmed all sails but the foresail which would have been essential to steer the boat away from the coast of Africa.

Acts 27:16–17. Having survived this storm, Luke would enjoy every minute telling about it. The small island of Cauda lay about twenty-three miles from Crete. The ship passed to the lee, meaning the sheltered east and south side of the island. The large commercial vessel would have towed a small boat which apparently interfered with its progress and had to be taken on board. Not only that, but the sailors actually tied up the ship with ropes to keep it from being shattered to pieces by the storm.

The next step was to lower the sea anchor, though the Greek word skeuos could be translated “equipment,” a possible reference to any kind of rigging. Nevertheless, they did this because they feared the sand bars of Syrtis, still hundreds of miles away but clearly in the path they believed the wind was pushing them. Syrtis represents a long stretch of desolate banks along the northern Africa coast near Tunis and Tripoli. By lowering the anchor, they would have slowed their progress lest this violent wind blow them all the way to those dreaded shoals.

Acts 27:18–20. The next two weeks (v. 27) must have been hell on water. They saw no light by day or night. Despite every effort to save the ship, we finally gave up all hope of being saved. In good nautical tradition they jettisoned their cargo, or at least part of it (v. 38). The third day out, they threw the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands. We can debate what tackle means; but since it translates precisely the same Greek word as anchor, we are back to the broad English term equipment and have to assume they threw over whatever they could spare to lighten the load.

With their own hands fascinates us since, presumably, in the first century they would have had no other way to do it. Ramsay takes a slightly different manuscript reading and substitutes “we” where the NIV offers “they.” Nevertheless, his description is worth reading.

The sailors threw overboard part of the cargo; and the passengers and supernumeraries, in eager anxiety to do something, threw overboard whatever moveables they found, which was of little or no practical use, but they were eager to do something. This makes a striking picture of growing panic; but the third person, which appears in the great MSS., is ineffective, and makes no climax (Ramsay, 332).

Acts 27:21–22. Doubtless they retained food on board, but in such a storm, who could eat? Furthermore, they had rushed from one end of the ship to the other with ropes, hooks, and boxes—sleeping and eating were the least of their worries during those awful two weeks. Let no one claim the Bible paints its characters with too holy a brush. All of a sudden a very human prisoner shows up on deck to tell the crew, “I told you so.” Probably the last thing they needed at that point was a missionary rabbi nagging, “If you had only listened to me.” He had earlier warned them that there would be loss to our own lives also; now he changed that threat in view of the heavenly message he had received the night before. For this reason we are perhaps best advised not to take Paul’s words in verse 10 as a prophecy but merely his usual habit of giving advice whenever and wherever he thought people could use it.

Acts 27:23–26. Here’s the heart of the chapter. We will discuss Luke’s extensive nautical narrative in “Deeper Discoveries,” but here we need to see the light of heaven shining on a dark and driven ship and on its lost and lonely passengers. Paul already knew he would make it through (Acts 23:11). Like Abraham interceding for Sodom, Paul likely pleaded with God to save the lives of his traveling companions. Now, presumably in response to his prayers for his traveling companions, he reports the angel’s message: God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.

Doubtless many gods had received repeated appeals during that two weeks; in a situation like this, the most calloused pagan can all of a sudden find words addressed to some kind of deity who might intervene in a time of obvious disaster. Only one God answered! The angelic messenger was quite precise—they would not only be saved, but the ship would run aground on some island.

How poignant Paul’s words as he referred to the God whose I am and whom I serve. What a strong and solid witness at a frightening moment in a terrifying place. Disaster will turn to deliverance, and hopelessness to hope, because of God. I cannot resist the comparison with the Jonah narrative of the Old Testament—God’s servant in a small minority on a pagan ship facing the fury of a storm. In Jonah’s case the storm’s cause was the prophet; in this story the missionary brought salvation.

Luke records no response to Paul’s promise. Had the men cheered or fallen on their knees on the deck to worship Paul’s God, we can be sure Luke would have told us. Instead, they would wait to see whether this promise of hope had any substance.

The Shipwreck (39-44)

SUPPORTING IDEA: The true anchors in any storm—physical, emotional, or spiritual—can only be found in faith, hope, prayer, and the sovereignty of God.

Acts 27:27–29. Luke confuses us just a bit by referring to the Adriatic Sea when undoubtedly Paul’s ship moved across the Mediterranean. They sailed on the Sea of Adria, a first-century reference to the north central Mediterranean between Crete and Malta. Today we use the term “Adriatic Sea” to describe water between the eastern coast of Italy and what has become Bosnia Herzegovina.

At midnight on the fourteenth day seasoned sailors sensed land, perhaps from the sound of the surf, a change in the winds, or some other such indication. Checking the water’s depth, they found Paul’s words about running aground could very well come to pass so they dropped four anchors from the stern and prayed for daylight. The anchors would likely have been stones or perhaps lead weights; ancient vessels carried multiple anchors, and this ship surely had more than four.

Anchoring by the stern was unusual; but in their situation it had great advantages. Had they anchored by the bow, the ship would have swung around from the wind; and, when afterwards they wished to run her ashore, it would have been far harder to manage her when lying with her prow pointing to the wind and away from the shore. But, as they were, they had merely to cut the cables, unlash the rudders, and put up a little foresail (v. 40); and they had the ship at once under command to beach her at any spot they might select (Ramsay, 335).

Acts 27:30–32. Obviously, the sailors’ faith in their gods was insufficient. Contrary to the law of the sea, they tried to escape, leaving all their passengers to face the storm’s fury. If Ramsay is right when he suggests that anchoring the stern was the only move that made any sense in this situation, even a nautical layman like Paul could figure out they were up to no good when they pretended to drop anchors from the bow. Had they succeeded, all experienced hands who could beach the ship (the storm had not abated) would be gone, leaving only soldiers and passengers—and without a dinghy.

Why did Paul say it was necessary for them to stay on board? If God had promised to deliver all lives, what did it matter who took the dinghy and who stayed on board the main ship? Perhaps we best conclude that God had included this word in the angel’s message, or perhaps Paul simply applied common sense to the situation he saw developing.

It would appear that the soldiers acted a bit impetuously in cutting away the lifeboat which could have been used to ferry passengers ashore in the morning. Certainly posting a guard for the remaining hours of the night would have accomplished the intended purpose more effectively. We can hardly be critical and picky about the behavior of men who had been battered for two weeks by such a storm. Quite possibly, the angry centurion shouted at the nearest soldier to pull his sword and cut the ropes. In any case, they were now all “in the same boat.”

Acts 27:33–38. Twice Paul had been right and had emerged as the leader of the group. Hard work awaited daylight’s appearing for these men who had been starving themselves for days. Marshall indicates they may have been fasting, but there is no such suggestion in the text. Seasickness along with frenetic busyness seem to provide better reasons for their failure to eat.

Paul had already told them about his God. Now he offered a visible demonstration, doubtless an audible prayer to the sovereign Lord of Creation, surely including thanks for deliverance as well as for the food. We are reminded of Luke 9:10–17 and Luke 22:19 as we watch the serenity of the moment, a stark contrast to the confusion and hyperactivity of the past two weeks. Polhill describes it well:

The breaking of bread and giving of thanks was the customary Jewish form of blessing a meal, and Jesus was observing that custom in the Lord’s Supper. Paul also was observing that custom and in the presence of a predominantly pagan group. It was scarcely a eucharistic celebration.… In short, the eucharistic language of the meal on the ship may not be so much an indication that they celebrated the Lord’s Supper there as that Paul and the other Christians were reminded of how Jesus broke bread with his disciples and continues to do so, continues to be present in the lives of his people. The meal thus had a meaning for them it could not have had for the pagans—their lord continued to be present with them. He was present in that time of particular need. For them the meal was more than needed sustenance—it reassured them of their Lord’s presence to deliver them (Polhill, 527).

Do you feel embarrassed bowing your head to thank God for food in a public restaurant? Don’t. Just think about Paul off the coast of Malta.

All of a sudden Luke counted heads; perhaps he was involved in the food distribution, and the number of passengers only became important at this point. At any rate, we discover 276 witnesses to the veracity of Paul’s prophecies. Everyone took care of his hunger; everyone seemed content that deliverance lay ahead. They took the final step to make land, increasing the draft by throwing the rest of the grain into the sea.

Acts 27:39–41. We have no question what happened in this paragraph, for Luke tells it in amazing detail. They didn’t know where they were, but they saw a place to run the ship onto the beach. Picture them cutting loose the anchors, lifting the rudders, and heading straight in. Remember, the storm was still blowing, so the bow of the ship aimed southwest when it hit an unseen sandbar and wedged fast. Now, rather than being blown ahead across water, the ship absorbed the winds from behind and the pounding of the surf around. Slowly it fell apart. While the ship was drifting, the rudders had been tied up. Now the sailors needed to steer for the sandy beach they had chosen, so they untied those ropes. Tourists today can visit St. Paul’s Bay on the northeast coast of Malta, though not everyone agrees it is the designated spot where Paul’s ship actually ran aground.

Acts 27:42–44. We should have no trouble at all picturing frantic men rushing to the bow, scrambling down rope ladders, or perhaps even diving into the surf. Remember the Philippian jailer (Acts 16)? With prisoners besides Paul on board, Roman soldiers knew their duty. Julius protected him, however—yet another intervention by a Roman centurion in Paul’s life. Some swam to shore, some floated on pieces of wood, and in this way everyone reached land in safety.

Surely Luke intends us to see throughout this chapter that God’s sovereign providence governed every specific detail of this voyage. The safe deliverance of all lives came only through obeying him and listening to the words of his servant. That servant, like all true servants of the Lord to the present hour, knew how to practice the presence of Christ, especially under the pressure of crisis. I like the way Morgan puts it: “Here is the secret. Here was a man on two ships, one after the other, in storms, in stress and danger, with howling winds and creaking timbers and rending ropes and buffeting waves. Why was he quiet? Because the Lord was with him, and he knew it” (Morgan, 534).

Conclusion

The Oxygen of the Spirit

Though I have been down in several abandoned mines, I have never visited a working mine and, thank God, certainly never been trapped in one. I understand, however, that trapped miners need just two things to survive: hope and oxygen. Without oxygen they will be physically dead in minutes; without hope, they may last longer, but their spirits will eventually give up, perhaps before struggling rescuers can get to them. To put it another way, hope is the oxygen of the spirit.

This chapter is about hope. We have seen Paul preaching, but this is not a passage about sermons. We have seen Paul defending the faith, but Paul had no time for eloquent apologetics on board this ship. We have seen Paul before the Sanhedrin, but pagans surrounded him here. We have seen Paul in prison, but here he faced the potential of almost instant death.

Luke has given us this wonderful chapter to show a sovereign God still in control of the wind and the waves he had created millennia before. His divine sovereignty, his total providence engineered the deliverance not only of Paul and his party, but more than 270 others. We cannot leave Acts 27 without visiting again those wonderful verses tucked right into the middle of the chapter.

But now I urge you to keep up your courage, because not one of you will be lost; only the ship will be destroyed. Last night an angel of the God whose I am and whom I serve stood beside me and said, “Do not be afraid, Paul. You must stand trial before Caesar; and God has graciously given you the lives of all who sail with you.” So keep up your courage, men, for I have faith in God that it will happen just as he told me (vv. 22–25).