August 12, 2018 “Drop Anchor” – Acts 27:1-26

Acts 27:1-26
“Drop Anchor”
August 12, 2018 – Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

I turned green, leaned over the side, and puked. Beth didn’t see me. She was standing there smiling. Her hair blew in the wind as she shaded her eyes and looked out at the huge creatures we were following. Waves were rising higher than our boat, and my sister and mother and I were all deathly seasick. But Beth, feeling her Nordic sea-faring blood, was having the time of her life watching whales as the ocean crashed and heaved around us.

Looking back I believe the water was so rough that our little whale watching charter boat should not have been out that day. But there we were, hanging onto the rails and, all except Beth, praying for it to be over soon. Luke relates an experience like that in chapter 27 of Acts. Paul’s ship to Rome should not have been out on the sea either. His warning went unheeded and the voyage turned disastrous.

Sea travel in Paul’s time was more difficult and dangerous than it is today. But the other journeys by boat in Acts pass with hardly a mention. In chapter 9 we read that Barnabas and Saul “sail from there to Cyprus,” then “Paul and his companions sailed to Perga in Pamphylia,” and so on. The start of the voyage and its end, no details concerning the ship or time spent at sea. It’s like you or I might say, “We drove to Seattle.” Nothing more to be said about something so simple and common.

When we get to chapter 27, the picture changes. Luke recorded Paul’s final journey in Acts with precision and drama. One extra detail is at the outset in verse 1. Luke himself is again in the story. He wrote, “When it was decided that we were to sail for Italy…” Here is the third and last “we” segment of Acts. Paul traveled as a prisoner, but he was allowed companions: Luke and another Christian named Aristarchus from Thessalonica, who is identified in verse 2. Luke wrote his account of this voyage as an eye-witness.

Paul was in the charge of a Roman centurion named Julius. At their first stop just north along the Palestinian coast in Sidon, Julius kindly gave Paul freedom to go ashore, presumably under guard, and visit “his friends” there, a group of Christians, a small church. Sea passengers and prisoners in that age were expected to supply their own food and drink, bedding, etc. So those believers provided what Paul needed.

Julius showed Paul respect and treated him with dignity. Centurions, low-ranking officers commanding a hundred men, look pretty good in the Bible. Jesus healed the servant of a centurion with faith in Luke 7. The centurion at the Cross recognized Jesus as divine. We’ve just left Lysias, who rescued Paul from a mob in Jerusalem. Whatever Rome’s military did, individual soldiers turned toward Christ. Julius did not listen to Paul at the crucial juncture, but the officer still regarded the apostle as an equal.

From Sidon, the small boat used the island of Cyprus as a shield from the westerly wind to sail north into the shelter of the southwestern coast of Asia Minor. They landed at Myra, which was on what is now the southern end of the Antalya province in Turkey, to find a larger ship to take them to Rome.

Like the United Kingdom, Japan, and other parts of the world today, Rome was almost totally dependent on food shipments from elsewhere. There was a large organized trade in grain from fields in Egypt being carried to Italy. This trade was carefully regulated by the empire. So when we read in verse 6 that the centurion found an Alexandrian ship sailing for Italy, it was almost certainly an Egyptian grain ship under contract to Rome. That’s why a Roman officer could commandeer it to carry his prisoners.

Sailing should have been smooth for a large ship along the southern coast, but the west wind was strong and the short voyage became “many days” in verse 7. They finally arrived off the corner of Asia Minor by Cnidus, the modern city of Datca, and began to sail out into the open sea. Syrian refugees try to cross to Greek islands in the same place, but not in winds like Paul’s ship encountered. The Alexandrian vessel tried the same trick the smaller boat had used. Instead of sailing more directly west, north of the island of Crete, they went south of it, trying to catch a break from the wind.

Luke says that “with difficulty” they finally came to some shelter in a bay at “Fair Havens” about midway along the southern coast of Crete. The natives of Crete still call a bay there Limenas Kalous, “fair havens,” in Greek.

Because of the delay, the summer sailing season of more gentle winds was over. In verse 9, Luke says the “Fast” was over, the Jewish Day of Atonement, which was October 5 in 59 A.D. That put them in the dangerous season for sailing, from September 14 until November 11. After November 11, sailing stopped completely for the winter.

They held council. The pilot and owner of the boat consulted with the centurion. Even though he was a prisoner, Paul had a voice in the discussion as we hear in verse 10. As we learn later, God was speaking to Paul about the future of this journey. But the ship was under Rome’s authority, so Julius was ranking officer. The decision was finally up to him.

Paul advised them that to continue the voyage would be disaster, both for crew and passengers and for the ship and its cargo. But a majority of the seamen wanted to press on. Fair Havens was too shallow and exposed for the ship to stay the winter. The southern coast of Crete is still today sparsely populated and out of the way. Just a little farther west was a harbor at Phoenix, which would have been more suitable. It’s really no surprise that the Roman listened to the experienced sailors and ignored the warning of his prisoner.

At first all was well, as verse 13 tells us. They picked up a gentle south wind, and were able to tack west into it along the coast. But then it went bad. The wind reversed and came at them across the island of Crete, from the northeast. Like the “northeaster” storms which wreak havoc in our New England, these freakish winds were dreaded by ancient sailors of the Mediterranean. They were quickly driven away from Crete and farther out to sea.

In a wind break from the tiny island of Cauda, the southernmost point in Europe, they barely managed to haul the lifeboat aboard. This was a dinghy which normally would have been towed behind the large ship, but it was filling with water and about to be lost.

Ancient ships of course had no engines. There was little they could do in the face of a storm. But in verse 17 they took what steps they could. First they pulled ropes under the hull of the ship itself, wrapping it in an effort to hold the structure together in the waves. Then, trying to slow their movement toward the south, they lowered “the sea anchor.”

We’re not completely sure what all the words mean here. One mark of the authenticity of this story is all the technical sailing terms. A professor in college told us he read his daily devotions from the Greek New Testament. After many years it was almost like reading English for him. But he kept a little slip of paper tucked in his Greek New Testament at Acts 27 because he never could remember all the nautical words.

All we know for sure is that the crew lowered something, literally “equipment,” “gear.” A sea anchor makes sense. Today, a sea anchor is a kind of parachute on a tether attached to the bow. It drags in the water, slowing the ship as it’s driven by the wind and keeping the bow pointed into the waves. Ancient mariners may have deployed such a device from the stern, but it would have the same purpose. It’s much better to meet waves with the front or back end of a ship, rather than have water crash into the side and capsize.

If there is a spiritual equivalent of a sea anchor it would be faith that keeps you pointed in the right direction during a storm. You may have ignored God’s warnings, as the sailors did. You may be facing the consequences of a bad decision. Faith won’t keep you from being blown away. The wind will push you along, the waves will crash over you. But faith will keep you headed straight. Turn your heart and mind to Christ, and head straight on into the storm, you will come through it.

Down through the ages Christians have taken much comfort in that image of Jesus as our anchor in the storm. In a few minutes we will sing an old hymn about that. The world of the Bible was close to the sea. So our faith is full of expressions and images which picture God’s people sailing on a ship. One of the first Christians symbols, carved more often than the Cross in the catacombs, was an anchor. And as I often point out, the place where people sit in a church building is called the “nave” in traditional church architecture. Ships hang from the ceiling in some churches, particularly in Scandinavia.

So Paul’s perilous sailing voyage resonates with Christian experience down through the ages. We are out in stormy seas and Jesus our Lord is the one solid anchor we have in it all. I hope that you can take that message to heart today and let God strengthen your connection to that anchor. As we heard Jesus say in the Gospel from John 6 today, let the Father draw you closer and closer to Him.

Yet in reading this passage I also thought of anchors as weights which pull us down, anything which threatens to sink us. Verse 18 says that on the second day of the storm they began to lighten the ship by throwing cargo overboard. In verse 19 on the third day, they were even more desperate and pulled down the heavy mast and main beam of the ship and threw those overboard as well.

It makes spiritual sense for us to lighten our load through this world and its struggles. That takes all sorts of forms. Most of us know we are healthier if we lighten our bodies, but it’s easy to ignore those medical warnings as the crew ignored Paul. But it helps a little. I’ll feel better walking up the hill carrying a backpack next week because my body is twenty pounds lighter than it was a few years ago.

But it’s not just physical weight. Trying to hold onto too much can be disastrous in so many ways. A recent news story said that the worst thing you can do in a plane crash is try to save some piece of carryon luggage. You will block the exit both for yourself and other passengers. You need to get out and leave everything else behind.

So Christ calls us to give up the things we cling to, the things that anchor us down. As we’ve been hearing for weeks in John 6, and as Mike will preach for the next couple weeks, the things of this world, like the very food we eat, the cargo of grain the soldiers threw overboard, are not going to do us any good if we are dying spiritually in life’s storms. We need the real, eternal sustenance that comes from Jesus.

As we will read in verse 38 of Acts 27 next week, the sailors did not quite cast out all the cargo. Like those passengers trying to hold onto a bag or a purse, they hoped to hang on to their profits even in a storm. But with cargo left on board, they were doomed. Verse 20 says that after days of darkness with neither sun nor stars, they didn’t even know where they were. So Luke wrote, “all hope of our being saved was abandoned.”

Isn’t that hopelessness exactly how you and I feel sometimes? The biopsy comes back and the skies suddenly look dark. The boss calls you in to say you are being let go and the winds are howling. The divorce papers arrive in the mail and the ship is going down. These are the stormy, hopeless times when Paul shows us the way, the way to drop what is pulling us down and drop anchor in Christ our Lord once again.

Jesus holds out hope for everyone. In John 6 He said, “whoever believes has eternal life.” That’s the promise, the anchor to which we can cling when the gales are blowing. Yet as firm an anchor as Jesus is, He always tells it like it is, tells us the truth about ourselves. Paul had no problem saying, “I told you so,” in verse 21, “Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete.”

You and I need to hear someone tell us “I told you so” sometimes. It may be annoying, but when it’s the truth, especially when it comes from God, it is absolutely necessary. When we turn from what we know is right and ignore what the Lord tells us, we need our noses rubbed in the fact. The painful experience of admitting our mistakes is the doorway to hope. It’s by repentance, by turning away from greed and lust and all the attractive sinful anchors that weigh us down, that we can let God set us free and saves us.

Paul said “I told you so,” but then offered hope. In verse 22, he urged them to be brave “for there will be no loss of life among you; but only the ship.” You and I have the same hope in Jesus. By courageously trusting in Him, we know for sure that God will bring us through all the storms of life. We may lose everything else. Our sins and negligence have consequences. We should have listened better. At the end we know we will lose everything in death. But our Lord will save us. Jesus said “I will raise them up at the last day.” Jesus will bring us through the darkness of that last storm into eternal life.

I once heard a Covenant pastor talk about losing his dream. Music had been everything to him. His talent gave him the only recognition he ever got. He wasn’t a particularly good student, wasn’t athletic, but when he played an instrument people praised him. He played guitar in a band and girls noticed him. Music was the anchor of his life.

Then his visions of fame and fortune as a musician began to break up like a ship in a storm. It wasn’t happening as he expected. His talent failed to produce what he desired. Then Jesus began to work on him. He began to let go of those grandiose dreams. In part, it was only realistic, like realizing you have to throw something overboard or sink. But it was also the way he placed his faith wholly in the Lord. He gave his talent to Jesus, placed it in God’s hands, began to offer his music to Christ instead of to others for recognition. And he found himself happier and more whole than he had ever been before.

Standing on the tossing deck of that lost ship, Paul asked everyone on board to place themselves in God’s hands. He asked them to have courage in the faith that God would save them. Verse 23 says an angel appeared to tell Paul again he would witness before Caesar. God had given him not only his own life, but “all those who are sailing with you.” Paul said to the others, “I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told.”

I don’t know for sure what weighs you down or what storms you face. It might be money or property dragging on your heart. Your own sense of self-importance may be heavy. It could be a relationship which does not honor God weighing on you. Perhaps it is simply the crushing weight of a guilty conscience you cannot bear anymore.

Like Paul in verse 25, I say to you then, “I have faith in God,” faith that the Lord can save you. Jesus promised eternal life to whoever believes in Him. I have faith that if you have faith in Jesus, He can save you no matter what the load the you are carrying, no matter what storm blows across your life. Drop all those other anchors. You don’t need them. Jesus Christ is your anchor, your safe harbor, your salvation. Drop the anchors and trust Him. He will save you.

Amen.