I’m not much of a sea-faring sailor. I’ve done some waterskiing. Some. I once took a ferry across the Puget Sound on the way to British Columbia (my brother got sea-sick). A family trip once involved boating down the Willamette River from Oregon City to downtown Portland and back again. I can’t say I’ve ever been on the high seas or in a ship. I haven’t even been to the Ark museum.
Though lacking sea-faring experience, like you, I’ve been exposed to many sea-worthy passages in the Bible. A flood of epic proportions is experienced when telling the Noah story. Repentance is themed throughout the rebellious Jonah story (talk about the one that got away!). And Jesus walking on the water like he’s walking across the living room floor is gripping in and of itself.
But one Biblical story has somehow gotten lost in the deluge of sea-worthy stories. The moment takes place in Acts 27 when Paul is making his way to Rome to face a hearing before Caesar. In short, the ship Paul had boarded was secure in a port in Fair Havens on the island of Crete. But the harbor was not suitable for winterizing. The weather had already turned against them, making travel dangerous while delaying their progress. A better harbor in Phoenix was only fifty miles (plus/minus) around Crete. Hovering the shoreline, surely they could reach the port until spring.
Paul, maybe the smartest guy in the room, stood and spoke against that idea (Act. 27:10). But he was neither a sailor nor sea worthy. The captain and owner of the ship ignored his advice and set sails to Phoenix. Then the wheels fell off the train.
What started as a gentle wind turned into hurricane-like conditions (Act. 27:13-14). The storm took hold of the ship and pushed them off course. Way. Off. Course. Two weeks in the open seas forced the 276 people on board to were exposed and at risk. Tackle and other items were thrown overboard to lighten the load. Fear of the storm gave way to fear for running aground and being dashed against the rocks. The ship was all but torn apart.
In the middle of the dangerous chaos, two moments stand out in the Acts 27 narrative. First, Paul warns those wanting to abandon ship will be lost unless they stay on board (27:30-32). Logic and protocol told them to lower lifeboats and get away from the (potentially) sinking vessel. It looked like a losing battle. But the man who warned them against taking the trip to begin with warned them again. “Only those staying with the ship will be saved” (v. 31). In an act of faith, the sailors cut the ropes to the lifeboats and remained on board. True to Paul’s word, no one was lost even though the ship was eventually torn apart.
Secondly, having forsaken their meals for rationed survival, Paul encouraged them to eat in order to renew their strength (v. 33-34). They weren’t out of the storm yet, but were needing nourishment. But as Luke describes the meal, he frames it with Lord’s Supper language, “. . . he took bread and gave thanks to God in front of them all. Then he broke it and began to eat” (v. 35). Obviously, they were not taking the Lord’s Supper, but the Lord was present at this meal because he kept them safe. Thus, the Lord’s Supper hovered over this meal they were eating. And as Luke tells us, “they were all encouraged” (v. 36).
As I reflect on 2020 and the hurricane-like storm that the church has been enduring, I can’t help but believe that Paul’s words are still ringing true today. First, fear forces us to abandon ship and in this case ship is our local church/congregation. Church is far more than a building; it’s the people who fill that building. We’re connected, bonded and committed to each another. And when we cannot be together in person, the temptation to abandon any connection intensifies. If we’re meeting with social distancing protocols in place, we meet and follow the rules. If we’re only online, then we step into the online presence. But the rest of the week, we check in with our brothers and sisters to ensure they’re still safely aboard for the worst mistake to make is abandoning ship. Let’s ride this storm out, together.
Secondly, stay nourished. As we’re continuing to meet together (in person or online), celebrate the Lord’s Supper and allow it to be the focal point of the assembly. Like attendance, when life gets hard or feelings of failure surface, abandoning the Supper is an easy step to make. Instead, like famished people, we should run to the Table for Jesus makes his presence known at the Supper.
When “all hands are on deck” and “we batten down the hatches,” we’ll find that God will keep us safe and secure through the storm. When others see the presence of God in the midst of this storm, they’ll want to join us. And when they do, we’ll need a bigger boat.
Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)