Anchors in the Storm
May 9, 2021
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
Acts 27:1-44
27:1 And when it was decided that we should sail for Italy, they delivered Paul and some other prisoners to a centurion of the Augustan Cohort named Julius. 2 And embarking in a ship of Adramyttium, which was about to sail to the ports along the coast of Asia, we put to sea, accompanied by Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica. 3 The next day we put in at Sidon. And Julius treated Paul kindly and gave him leave to go to his friends and be cared for. 4 And putting out to sea from there we sailed under the lee of Cyprus, because the winds were against us. 5 And when we had sailed across the open sea along the coast of Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came to Myra in Lycia. 6 There the centurion found a ship of Alexandria sailing for Italy and put us on board. 7 We sailed slowly for a number of days and arrived with difficulty off Cnidus, and as the wind did not allow us to go farther, we sailed under the lee of Crete off Salmone. 8 Coasting along it with difficulty, we came to a place called Fair Havens, near which was the city of Lasea.
9 Since much time had passed, and the voyage was now dangerous because even the Fast was already over, Paul advised them, 10 saying, “Sirs, I perceive that the voyage will be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and the ship, but also of our lives.” 11 But the centurion paid more attention to the pilot and to the owner of the ship than to what Paul said.12 And because the harbor was not suitable to spend the winter in, the majority decided to put out to sea from there, on the chance that somehow they could reach Phoenix, a harbor of Crete, facing both southwest and northwest, and spend the winter there.
13 Now when the south wind blew gently, supposing that they had obtained their purpose, they weighed anchor and sailed along Crete, close to the shore. 14 But soon a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck down from the land. 15 And when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven along. 16 Running under the lee of a small island called Cauda, we managed with difficulty to secure the ship's boat.17 After hoisting it up, they used supports to undergird the ship. Then, fearing that they would run aground on the Syrtis, they lowered the gear, and thus they were driven along. 18 Since we were violently storm-tossed, they began the next day to jettison the cargo. 19 And on the third day they threw the ship's tackle overboard with their own hands. 20 When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.
21 Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss. 22 Yet now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. 23 For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, 24 and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’25 So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. 26 But we must run aground on some island.”
27 When the fourteenth night had come, as we were being driven across the Adriatic Sea, about midnight the sailors suspected that they were nearing land. 28 So they took a sounding and found twenty fathoms. A little farther on they took a sounding again and found fifteen fathoms. 29 And fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let down four anchors from the stern and prayed for day to come. 30 And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the ship's boat into the sea under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, 31 Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved.” 32 Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the ship's boat and let it go.
33 As day was about to dawn, Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, “Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. 34 Therefore I urge you to take some food. For it will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you.” 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.36 Then they all were encouraged and ate some food themselves. 37 (We were in all 276 persons in the ship.) 38 And when they had eaten enough, they lightened the ship, throwing out the wheat into the sea.
39 Now when it was day, they did not recognize the land, but they noticed a bay with a beach, on which they planned if possible to run the ship ashore.40 So they cast off the anchors and left them in the sea, at the same time loosening the ropes that tied the rudders. Then hoisting the foresail to the wind they made for the beach. 41 But striking a reef, they ran the vessel aground. The bow stuck and remained immovable, and the stern was being broken up by the surf. 42 The soldiers' plan was to kill the prisoners, lest any should swim away and escape. 43 But the centurion, wishing to save Paul, kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and make for the land, 44 and the rest on planks or on pieces of the ship. And so it was that all were brought safely to land.
Last week after church we had a church membership meeting where we talked about several things—all of them good. In case you didn’t hear, all the votes for a new volunteer pastor (Tony Pitts), a new deacon and deaconess, were overwhelmingly approved by our membership.
At the beginning of the meeting, Scott Elder led us in a brief time of thanksgiving by giving a few people a chance to share just a sentence or two about ways they are thankful to see God working among us. Some spoke of how they saw God working in our unity, even as so many issues would conspire to pull us apart. Others spoke of the spiritual health of our leaders. Others spoke about victory over sin in themselves and others. Because it was such a rich time, and because we had to cut it short, we are going to do it again, except during the services. In two weeks, we’ll finish our sermon series through the book of Acts. We will limit this time of sharing to members of our church, but during the final sermon, I’ll stop in the middle to give people the chance to speak briefly about God’s kindness amid all the storms around us.
Would you pray with me as we begin this sermon? “Dear heavenly Father . . .”
Introduction
Whitewater rapids are classified in six categories, from Class I to Class VI, with Class I being the most mild and VI the most dangerous. The saying goes that if you go through Class VI rapids and live, then that section of rapids is reclassified as Class V. In other words, professional kayakers and rafters consider Class VI rapids unrunable.
When I was in college, my wife’s family (who was my girlfriend at the time) invited me on their summer vacation to Colorado. Among the other adventures planned was a rafting trip down the Colorado River through Gore Canyon, which is full of Class IV and Class V rapids. Here’s an action shot of us (right). My brother-in-law is in front with no sleeves and huge arms. Behind him and to the right are my mother- and father-in-law. I’m just to the left, and there is Brooke in the front.
The previous day, the day before Gore Canyon, we had traveled mild rapids on a different river, and our guide told us that we should not go down Gore Canyon because he didn’t think we would make it. This, as you can imagine, troubled my father-in-law Bruce. He didn’t sleep well, worried we might get really hurt.
Then we got to thinking about it. All three of us children—Brooke, Major, and me—were currently Division 1 college athletes. And Bruce and his wife were in great shape too. So, right or wrong, we steeled ourselves with the knowledge that if we were not fit enough to run the rapids, who were they letting go—Olympians on vacation from the training center in Colorado Springs? So we went. And I’m telling this story now, so you know I didn’t die, and I’ll let you know neither did anyone else. But at one point we did crash hard, and that’s what I wanted to tell you about.
Through a series of intense rapids, our guide shouted instructions to maneuver the boat to a more advantageous position through the rapids. We didn’t get in place in time. The raft pitched against a giant boulder. Rather than the water running under the raft, a channel of water spurted across the top of the raft, which threw my mother-in-law into the water. Would you believe that no one jumped into save her until I did? I was just the boyfriend at the time, so I thought it would be a good gesture. If the rest of the crew were here, they’d be saying, “Woah, woah, woah” because it’s probably more accurate to say that the river threw me out of the raft as well. In fact, it wasn’t even a conscious choice for either of us. The sheer power of running water tossed me like a leaf out of the boat. It didn’t matter whether I was an athlete or an Olympian or not; no one would have remained in that boat when the water hit them.
Bruce did pull his wife into the raft before me (can you believe that?), but he did it by yanking on her life jacket. When he did, she fell forward with her arms by her sides, and she got wedged between two ribs of the raft and couldn’t move. We still laugh often about that image of her wriggling like a fish. Before they yanked me in, the guide yelled at me to look forward because another boulder was coming. I turned, put my feet up, bounced off the rock, and then they yanked me into the boat too. We had made it, but not without greater awe at the power of God and his creation.
Look with me down in v. 15 of Acts 27. It says that “when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven along.” In other words, the wind was so strong that they couldn’t help but being blown along. Paul and the 275 other passengers were carried along irresistibly by the will of the wind. Maybe you’ve waded out into the ocean a few dozen feet and stood where the large waves crash and realized how small you are and how weak you are to stand against the waves and wind. Maybe other struggles in your life have you feeling like that right now.
As the passage was read, perhaps you found yourself confused at various points. That’s understandable. Most of us are not familiar with the geography. We read of Sidon, Fair Havens, Cyprus, Pamphylia, Crete, and so on, until in chapter 28 we learn that they learned they had crashed on the island of Malta. But where are these places? The answer is basically across the Mediterranean, but that’s not too helpful for most of us. And this passage might feel opaque to us because we don’t know sailing terms. What’s a foresail? And what does it mean to sail “under the lee” of some island? Basically, it means to sail along an island in such a way as to be shielded from unwanted and dangerous wind.
But even with these potentially confusing aspects of the passage, you saw the big picture, didn’t you? In Acts 27 a ship crashes, and everyone lives. Or perhaps we could say it better by saying that in Acts 27 a ship crashes, and God saves everyone, just as he promised that he would. And here we get at the main point of the passage: without the eternal, spiritual anchor of Christ, we’re blown about by the storms of life. But with Christ and his promises, we have an anchor stronger than any storm.
I’d love to walk through every line from this story, but we don’t have time, so I’ll mention a few of the highlights, or perhaps if you and I had been experiencing them with Paul, we might call them the lowlights. It will be helpful if you keep a Bible open to the passage as I refer to it. The story begins in the late fall and early winter of ad 59 with Paul on his way to Rome to stand trial before Caesar. In v. 1 we read,
1 And when it was decided that we should sail for Italy, they delivered Paul and some other prisoners to a centurion of the Augustan Cohort named Julius.
The word “we” tells us that Luke was with Paul. We learn in v. 2 that so was Aristarchus, a fellow gospel laborer with Paul (cf. Acts 19:29; 20:4; Col. 4:10; Phm. 1:24). Together they catch their first ship. Later they sail on a large grain ship coming from Alexandria to Rome. I take this to mean that it was like when you and I want to fly to San Diego and have to catch two planes, first a smaller one to a hub city, and then a larger plane to the destination. In the first ship, they make a few stops while the sailing gets harder and the winter weather gets worse. I’ll read vv. 10–11. Paul says,
10 . . . “Sirs, I perceive that the voyage will be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and the ship, but also of our lives.” 11 But the centurion paid more attention to the pilot and to the owner of the ship than to what Paul said.
As you can see, the difficulty is beginning to pick up. They are not in Class II rapids anymore, but Class IV or perhaps Class V, yet the crew wants to press on. They figure, We’re Division 1 sailors—we got this. The storm gets worse and humbles them and brings them to the point of throwing their gear and hope overboard. Look at v. 20.
20 When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.
That word for “abandon” is the same word used later in v. 40 when the sailors “cast off the anchors and left them in the sea.” The point of v. 20 being this, it’s so bad that just as they tossed their gear overboard, they might as well toss their hope of being saved overboard too. Paul then gives his speech in vv. 21–26, which goes like this:
21 Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul stood up among them and said, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss. 22 Yet now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. 23 For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, 24 and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ 25 So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. 26 But we must run aground on some island.”
I don’t think his “you should have listened to me” was a way to say I told you so, though it does sounds that way. Instead, Paul wants them to listen to them now. He wants them to know what Jesus has promised him—and not only him but all the sailors. After two weeks of storms, they get close to land, and the sailors try to sneak away, fearing the Class V rapids had become Class VI, so to speak. Paul says to the soldiers, “Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved” (v. 31). That’s an interesting view of God’s sovereignty and human responsibility. God’s going to save them, but the crew can’t escape; they go together. The soldiers agreed with Paul and cut away the lifeboat (v. 32). Paul then tells to eat some food and not even a hair of their heads will perish. Then he prays “in the presence of all,” giving thanks to God.
Basically, at this point, they point the ship toward land as best they can and get ready to swim for it. It’s like they were in a van, and the driver puts a cinder block on the accelerator and bungee cords the steering wheel in place, and everyone climbs to the roof of the van, ready to jump. Once you cut away the anchors and ropes, there is no going back. The soldiers want to kill the prisoners because they don’t want to risk their own lives, but the centurion, as he has throughout, looks out for Paul and the others, and in the end, they are all saved. Look at the final line in the chapter.
And so it was that all were brought safely to land.
Somehow, they all lived through Class VI rapids. And they shouldn’t have lived. That’s the point. Every sailor, every soldier, every prisoner, would have turned back to look out at the ship smashed to pieces by the waves on the rocks and thought, I shouldn’t be alive right now. There’s no way I should be alive.
In Matthew 16:18, Jesus said, “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” The book of Acts is written to show Jesus keeps his promises. The book of Acts is written to show that Jesus builds his church. But sometimes I look at this story, and I think about what it feels like for Jesus to build his church, and I wonder if it really has to be this hard? I mean, if the storms are this violent and the waves this fierce, aren’t we doing something wrong? Just consider for a moment all the words and phrases in this chapter that describe the difficulty.
“because the winds were against us” (v. 4), “arrived with difficulty off Cnidus, and as the wind did not allow us to go farther” (v. 7), “the voyage was now dangerous” (v. 9), “the harbor was not suitable to spend the winter in” (v. 12), “soon a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck down from the land” (v. 14), “we managed with difficulty to secure the ship’s boat” (v. 16), “Since we were violently storm-tossed, they began the next day to jettison the cargo,” (v. 18), “When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned” (v. 20), “Since they had been without food for a long time,” (v. 21), and “we must run aground on some island” (v. 26).
The author of the letter of Hebrews says that in Jesus Christ, we have “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul” (6:19). Paul sure did. And so do all Christians. Jesus Christ and his promises are an anchor stronger than any storm. That’s the point of this passage.
I want to close by focusing on vv. 23–25. Listen again to the words Paul speaks to those who are storm-tossed and weak:
23 For this very night there stood [cf. Acts 23:11] before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, 24 and he said, ‘Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.’ 25 So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told.”
In the storm Paul has confidence in God because he knows that he has become God’s own treasured possession (Ex. 19:5; 1 Pet. 2:9). “The God to whom I belong,” he says. It’s not just that Paul has God, but even better, Paul knows God has him. Every Christian can say this same truth. It’s not simply that I have God, but that he has me.
And notice that the miracle that God performs was not done for Paul alone. God wants an audience to behold his saving power. God wants others to know he can be trusted to save. First, he humbles them with a storm they can’t handle, despite being Olympians sailors. Then, God has a Christian make a speech and pray. Then God saves them all dramatically. God designed everything about this salvation story to unfold not just to get Paul but all of the sailors and soldiers to witness God’s saving power. In other words, far more important than Paul being on missionary journeys in the book of Acts is the fact that God is on missionary journeys. This leads me to say to you: behold God’s saving power. Anyone who wants to be, can become God’s possession and have God’s promises, and have an anchor for the storms of life. We have only to ask.
As sweet as Mother’s Day is, some of you mothers are in a storm. You feel the wind and waves and wonder if you’ll make it. Some of you women want to be mothers but aren’t, and that’s part of the storm for you. A pastor friend texted me last week, and in a long paragraph where he speaks of his wife’s struggles to not hate the church after all that has happened to them, and his own struggles in faith, he wrote, “I’m just trying to understand my identity in Christ when everything else is being taken away.” Another pastor friend also sent me a long text last week to say that he just left “the single hardest meeting [he’d] ever been apart of.” He wrote, “I started having a panic attack in the middle of it. I was literally shaking.” The pastor ended by describing his church’s situation this way: “It feels like we’re on the brink, like it’s the Cuban Missile Crisis.” I read these kinds of texts and I wonder why the building of Jesus’s church is so hard. God has his good reasons, we can be sure.
Maybe you’re in your own Class VI rapids, your own 14-day storm, your own brink and crises. Hear this promise from Jesus: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:18). Let that promise, and the many others like it, be an anchor for your soul in the storms of life. I’ll invite the music team back up as we pray . . .
