'And as the shipmen were about to flee out of the ship, when they had
let down the boat into the sea, under colour as though they would have
cast anchors out of the foreship, 31. Paul said to the centurion and to
the soldiers, Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved. 32.
Then the soldiers cut off the ropes of the boat, and let her fall off.
33. And while the day was coming on, Paul besought them all to take
meat, saying, This day is the fourteenth day that ye have tarried and
continued fasting, having taken nothing. 34. Wherefore I pray you to
take some meat; for this is for your health; for there shall not an
hair fall from the head of any of you. 35. And when he had thus spoken,
he took bread, and gave thanks to God in presence of them all; and when
he had broken it, he began to eat. 36. Then were they all of good
cheer, and they also took some meat. 37. And we were in all in the ship
two hundred threescore and sixteen souls. 38. And when they had eaten
enough, they lightened the ship, and cast out the wheat into the sea.
39. And when it was day, they knew not the land; but they discovered a
certain creek with a shore, into the which they were minded, if it were
possible, to thrust in the ship. 40. And when they had taken up the
anchors, they committed themselves unto the sea, and loosed the
rudder-bands, and noised up the main-sail to the wind, and made toward
shore. 41. And falling into a place where two seas met, they ran the
ship aground: and the fore part stuck fast, and remained unmoveable,
but the hinder part was broken with the violence of the waves. 42. And
the soldiers' counsel was to kill the prisoners, lest any-of them
should swim out, and escape. 43. But the centurion, willing to save
Paul, kept them from their purpose: and commanded that they which could
swim should cast themselves first into the sea, and get to land: 44.
And the rest some on boards, and some on broken pieces of the ship. And
so it came to pass, that they escaped all safe to land.'--ACTS xxvii
30-44.
The Jews were not seafaring people. Their coast had no safe harbours,
and they seldom ventured on the Mediterranean. To find Paul in a ship
with its bow pointed westwards is significant. It tells of the
expansion of Judaism into a world-wide religion, and of the future
course of Christianity. The only Old Testament parallel is Jonah, and
the dissimilarities of the two incidents are as instructive as are
their resemblances.
This minute narrative is evidently the work of one of the passengers
who knew a good deal about nautical matters. It reads like a log-book.
But as James Smith has well noted in his interesting monograph on the
chapter, the writer's descriptions, though accurate, are
unprofessional, thus confirming Luke's authorship. Where had the
'beloved physician' learned so much about the sea and ships? Did the
great galleys carry surgeons as now? At all events the story is one of
the most graphic accounts ever written. This narrative begins when the
doomed ship has cast anchor, with a rocky coast close under her lee.
The one question is, Will the four anchors hold? No wonder that the
passengers longed for daylight!
The first point is the crew's dastardly trick to save themselves,
frustrated by Paul's insight and promptitude. The pretext for getting
into the boat was specious. Anchoring by the bow as well as by the
stern would help to keep the ship from driving ashore; and if once the
crew were in the boat and pulled as far as was necessary to lay out the
anchors, it would be easy, under cover of the darkness, to make good
their escape on shore and leave the landsmen on board to shift for
themselves. The boat must have been of considerable size to hold the
crew of so large a ship. It was already lying alongside, and landsmen
would not suspect what lay under the apparently brave attempt to add to
the vessel's security, but Paul did so. His practical sagacity was as
conspicuous a trait as his lofty enthusiasm. Common sense need not be
divorced from high aims or from the intensest religious self-devotion.
The idealist beat the practical centurion in penetrating the sailors'
scheme.
That must have been a great nature which combined such different
characteristics as the Apostle shows. Unselfish devotion is often
wonderfully clear-sighted as to the workings of its opposite. The
Apostle's promptitude is as noticeable as his penetration. He wastes no
time in remonstrance with the cowards, who would have been over the
side and off in the dark while he talked, but goes straight to the man
in authority. Note, too, that he keeps his place as a prisoner. It is
not his business to suggest what is to be done. That might have been
resented as presumptuous; but he has a right to point out the danger,
and he leaves the centurion to settle how to meet it. Significantly
does he say 'ye,' not 'we.' He was perfectly certain that he 'must be
brought before Caesar'; and though he believed that all on board would
escape, he seems to regard his own safety as even more certain than
that of the others.
The lesson often drawn from his words is rightly drawn. They imply the
necessity of men's action in order to carry out God's purpose. The
whole shipful are to be saved, but 'except these abide ... ye cannot be
saved,' The belief that God wills anything is a reason for using all
means to effect it, not for folding our hands and saying, 'God will do
it, whether we do anything or not.' The line between fatalism and
Christian reliance on God's will is clearly drawn in Paul's words.
Note too the prompt, decisive action of the soldiers. They waste no
words, nor do they try to secure the sailors, but out with their knives
and cut the tow-rope, and away into the darkness drifts the boat. It
might have been better to have kept it, as affording a chance of safety
for all; but probably it was wisest to get rid of it at once. Many
times in every life it is necessary to sacrifice possible advantages in
order to secure a more necessary good. The boat has to be let go if the
passengers in the ship are to be saved. Misused good things have
sometimes to be given up in order to keep people from temptation.
The next point brings Paul again to the front. In the night he had been
the saviour of the whole shipload of people. Now as the twilight is
beginning, and the time for decisive action will soon be here with the
day, he becomes their encourager and counsellor. Again his saving
common sense is shown. He knew that the moment for intense struggle was
at hand, and so he prepares them for it by getting them to eat a
substantial breakfast. It was because of his faith that he did so. His
religion did not lead him to do as some people would have done--begin
to talk to the soldiers about their souls--but he looked after their
bodies. Hungry, wet, sleepless, they were in no condition to scramble
through the surf, and the first thing to be done was to get some food
into them. Of course he does not mean that they had eaten absolutely
nothing for a fortnight, but only that they had had scanty nourishment.
But Paul's religion went harmoniously with his care for men's bodies.
He 'gave thanks to God in presence of them all'; and who shall say that
that prayer did not touch hearts more deeply than religious talk would
have done? Paul's calmness would be contagious; and the root of it, in
his belief in what his God had told him, would be impressively
manifested to all on board. Moods are infectious; so 'they were all of
good cheer,' and no doubt things looked less black after a hearty meal,
A little point may be noticed here, namely, the naturalness of the
insertion of the numbers on board at this precise place in the
narrative. There would probably be a muster of all hands for the meal,
and in view of the approaching scramble, in order that, if they got to
shore, there might be certainty as to whether any were lost. So here
the numbers come in. They were still not without hope of saving the
ship, though Paul had told them it would be lost; and so they jettison
the cargo of wheat from Alexandria. By this time it is broad day and
something must be done.
The next point is the attempt to beach the vessel. 'They knew not the
land,' that is, the part of the coast where they had been driven; but
they saw that, while for the most part it was iron-bound, there was a
shelving sandy bay at one point on to which it might be possible to run
her ashore. The Revised Version gives a much more accurate and
seaman-like account than the Authorised Version does. The anchors were
not taken on board, but to save time and trouble were 'left in the
sea,' the cables being simply cut. The 'rudder-bands'--that is, the
lashings which had secured the two paddle-like rudders, one on either
beam, which had been tied up to be out of the way when the stern
anchors were put out--are loosed, and the rudders drop into place. The
foresail (not 'mainsail,' as the Authorised Version has it) is set to
help to drive the ship ashore. It is all exactly what we should expect
to be done.
But an unexpected difficulty met the attempt, which is explained by the
lie of the coast at St. Paul's Bay, Malta, as James Smith fully
describes in his book. A little island, separated from the mainland by
a channel of not more than one hundred yards in breadth, lies off the
north-east point of the bay, and to a beholder at the entrance to the
bay looks as if continuous with it. When the ship got farther in, they
would see the narrow channel, through which a strong current sets and
makes a considerable disturbance as it meets the run of the water in
the bay. A bank of mud has been formed at the point of meeting. Thus
not only the water shoals, but the force of the current through the
narrows would hinder the ship from getting past it to the beach. The
two things together made her ground, 'stem on' to the bank; and then,
of course, the heavy sea running into the bay, instead of helping her
to the shore, began to break up the stern which was turned towards it.
Common peril makes beasts of prey and their usual victims crouch
together. Benefits received touch generous hearts. But the legionaries
on board had no such sentiments. Paul's helpfulness was forgotten. A
still more ignoble exhibition of the instinct of self-preservation than
the sailors had shown dictated that cowardly, cruel suggestion to kill
the prisoners. Brutal indifference to human life, and Rome's iron
discipline holding terror over the legionaries' heads, are vividly
illustrated in the 'counsel,' So were Paul's kindnesses requited! It is
hard to melt rude natures even by kindness; and if Paul had been
looking for gratitude he would have been disappointed, as we so often
are. But if we do good to men because we expect requital, even in
thankfulness, we are not pure in motive. 'Looking for nothing again' is
the spirit enforced by God's pattern and by experience.
The centurion had throughout, like most of his fellows in Scripture,
been kindly disposed, and showed more regard for Paul than the rank and
file did. He displays the good side of militarism, while they show its
bad side; for he is collected, keeps his head in extremities, knows his
own mind, holds the reins in a firm hand, even in that supreme moment,
has a quick eye to see what must be done, and decision to order it at
once. It was prudent to send first those who could swim; they could
then help the others. The distance was short, and as the bow was
aground, there would be some shelter under the lee of the vessel, and
shoal water, where they could wade, would be reached in a few minutes
or moments.
'And so it came to pass, that they all escaped safe to the land.' So
Paul had assured them they would. God needs no miracles in order to
sway human affairs. Everything here was perfectly 'natural,' and yet
His hand wrought through all, and the issue was His fulfilment of His
promises. If we rightly look at common things, we shall see God working
in them all, and believe that He can deliver us as truly without
miracles as ever He did any by miracles. Promptitude, prudence, skill,
and struggle with the waves, saved the whole two hundred and
seventy-six souls in that battered ship; yet it was God who saved them
all. Whether Paul was among the party that could swim, or among the
more helpless who had to cling to anything that would float, he was
held up by God's hand, and it was He who 'sent from above, took him,
and drew him out of many waters.'