Acts 27:7-14

And when we had sailed slowly many days.

Slow sailing

As on board our ships, one has not always a favourable wind, and does not always proceed quickly forward, so the Christian in his journey through life has often to wait. (K. Gerok.)

Came unto a place which is called The fair havens.--

The fair havens of moderation and content

I. In the voyage of life we are brought into many a fair haven.

1. Life does not consist only of storms. These havens are of various kinds, satisfying the desires of rest, ambition, pleasure. But as these havens were not what these sailors were wishful for, and as they were ready to leave them, we are reminded of one fair haven in which men are not too willing to rest--moderation and content.

2. There were no noble features about these Fair Havens--no stupendous breakwater at Caesarea, no town near, no roadstead full of merchantmen. It was just a refuge for the storm-driven and hindered elsewhere. And so moderation and content form a haven of rest from many of the opposed ambitions of life.

3. There are other harbours which are no true havens. Look at that picture of the death of Chatterton. Through the open window we have vision of a better rest than of despair. Heaven is the last abiding harbour, but moderation, contentment, form a little fair haven on the way.

4. When we are driven to this haven let us be content. It is a fair haven if we have grace to know it.

II. Very often these fair havens will seem to be inconvenient for wintering in. We shall be willing to be content for a little time, but not for long. And so real content is not found. We imagine the demands of our life are not met by these quiet places of moderation. “Give me neither poverty nor riches,” said a wise man; but many risk the former for the mere chance of the latter. They will have all or none.

III. When the fair havens are being tried and doubted, we shall be surrounded by many kinds of counsellors. There was one here who never withheld his words if he could help others (Acts 27:10), but he was only a parson--what did he know about ships? Besides, he was a prisoner, and delay might be an advantage. Further, in the opinion of Festus he was mad. What was his opinion against the advice backed by the skill, experience, and interest of the captain and owner? And then the vast majority (Acts 27:12) were for going on. But vox populi was not vox Dei here. And generally the infallibility of the majority is on the same level as the infallibility of the Pope or that of conceited minorities. So do not listen to tempting voices because they are numerous. There may be one counsel advising keeping in good ways; but then it is only dear old mother’s counsel, who knows nothing of the ways of the world, or that of interested parsons, or crazed fanatics. Those who advise me to seek pleasure, wealth, etc., have had long experience.

IV. If at these times we give heed to the false counsel we shall often think we have gained our purpose, but soon find that we have lost it. The south wind blows softly on many a tempted soul. The ways of sin are easy, and unattended by evil consequences. There is no intention of losing heaven. A religious old age shall follow a worldly manhood. But the haven of Phoenix was never reached by this ship, and Malta was only reached after the destructive storm. (T. Gasquoine, B. A.)

Now when much time was spent, and when sailing was now dangerous,… Paul admonished them.

Sphere of the Christian minister

Paul was a landsman. What did he know about navigation? And so the centurion said--just as you would have said--“This is a matter that I would rather take the testimony of the shipmaster and the owner about, than yours.” And the voyage went on, and it all came as Paul had declared, and he had that sweet opportunity that everybody longs for, of saying, “I told you so.” So that Paul, at the end of the voyage, commanded the captain, and the owner, and the crew, and the soldiers, and the centurion, and had charge of everything on board, and finally of the islanders themselves, when they were wrecked. A true man shows that he is true at that very point where other men break down. There are two points of sensitiveness among men.

I. Men are jealous and indignant often at ministers meddling with the affairs of society. And when ministers are associated in a class with arrogant pretensions, men ought to resent their intrusion. But a true minister is a man moved by the grace of God to be the teacher of moral ideals in a community, and being a citizen has all the rights of a citizen to deal with public affairs. Now a judgment formed by a clear head upon any course from high moral grounds, is likely to be sounder, wiser, and more cogent than judgments which are formed from mere practical grounds. Moral intuition may be, and often is, wiser than practical experience itself. An outsider is very useful to an insider. As the engineer cannot steer, being down below among the machinery, he is very much helped by the man who is on the lookout; and men that are buried in the hull of their affairs ought to be thankful if there is anybody on deck that can keep a good look out, and tell which way the ship is going. All kinds of business, all professions, all courses in social life, stand in relation to the moral welfare of the whole community. And we have a right, with or without ordination, to meddle with the moral relations of every course and calling. Many and many a voyage has been disastrous because when Paul has said, “Ye will come to harm,” the centurion said, “We have the shipmaster and the owner, and we will listen to them rather than to this Paul. What does he know about it?” In many and many a case it has turned out that the stranger, whose advice was rejected with scorn, knew more than all on board put together. This has been Christ’s quarrel from the beginning. As it was said on one occasion, so it is said now, “What have we to do with Thee? Art Thou come to torment us before our time?” And when Christian teachers begin to apply the larger principles of criticism to the evil courses of society: “Ye meddlers, why do you not attend to your business, and let us attend to ours? Stay thou at home and preach Christ, and do not touch grog-shops or lotteries. What hast thou to do with Wall Street? ‘Follow the meek and lowly Jesus.’” I do follow Him--precisely that; for He said, “I came not to send peace, but a sword,” etc. The men especially who follow Christ and His apostles are the men who turn the world upside down. The minister has a right to go into every part of society and give advice, and no man can say, “It is none of your business.” It is my business. Everything that is done under God’s sun is my business. When I stand and look upon those things which are of common interest to you and to me, and say, “Such courses jar against the integrity at large,” it is precisely my business.

II. There is a popular impression that every man understands his own business best and complaint is often made of ministers that they meddle with things that they do not understand. But when ministers meddle with practical life they are meddling with just what they do understand, or ought to. Look at this matter. I admit that there is a truth in the contention that a man generally understands his own business best. The printer, the lawyer, the machinist, etc., understand the technicalities of their crafts better than I do. But does it follow that a man understands the general relations of his business to other businesses, the moral relations of his business, the relations of his business to political economy, better than an outsider does? So far from that, experience shows that no man is so blind as a man that is immersed in his own business. It is not often the case that any department of life is reformed of its own accord. It always is forced upon it ab extra. It does not follow that the miller understands bread better than I do. He knows more about the process than I do; but when it is done, and I take the loaf, and eat it, then I am as good a judge of bread as he is. It is not for me, perhaps, to say how a judge shall discharge his function; but it is for me to say when he discharges his function wrongly. It is not for me to say what is the special province of an advocate; but the moment he so conducts his profession that it touches the question of right and wrong, he comes into my sphere. Do you suppose that, because a man is an apothecary, he does not know how to catch trout? He has studied the nature of trout on purpose to amuse himself. Does it follow that, because a man is an able lawyer, he cannot be a skilful hunter? Experience shows that he can, though he may not have made it the sole business of his life to hunt. Do you suppose that I study old musty books when I want to preach? I study you! When I want to know more about the doctrine of depravity, I study you! When I want to know what is right and what is wrong, I see how you do; and I have abundant illustrations on every side! The same is true of the career of commerce, and all the instruments of commerce. There are a thousand things in these that a man cannot well and perfectly understand who does not devote himself to them. There are a thousand questions that no man would meddle with who was not inside of these things. Pan! did not say to this man, “You ought to hoist this sail, or that sail.” That was not his business. But he did say to them, “You must not make this voyage.” He knew that the season was unfavourable. He had some knowledge of the great courses of nature as well as other men. And the fact that he was an apostle did not take away his power of judging of these things. So I stand and say, “There are certain courses in the great commercial world that are sure to bring damage to those that pursue them.” And you shall not revile me, saying, “You are nothing bat a minister.” There are certain courses in banking that I know to be atrocious. I know that there are operations in railway management that outrage every law of prudence. I know that where a fraternity of villainous capitalists are joined together they shall be able to swamp legislators, and sweep whole communities to destruction, and it is my business to sound the alarm, and to say to men, “There is no prosperity to society so long as such gigantic swindles as these are going on.” And when I say it, they say to me, “Are you a railroad man?” No, but I am after railroad men. “Do you understand this business?” No, but I know the men who are in this business. And when it is said, “Nobody can give advice in regard to the affairs of any given department unless he belongs to those affairs,” I say that a cock does not need to be in bed with you to know that the morning has come, and crow! It is because he is out of doors, and sits aloft, and sees when the sun is coming up, that he becomes the clarion of the morning, and gives you the signal for waking up. That which is true of these departments is just as true of political affairs. It is an evil day when patriotism is considered to be too foul for a minister, when the formation of the laws is considered to be a business in which righteous men should not dabble, when the policy of the state, which carries with it the welfare of the whole mass of men--their joy or their sorrow, their weal or their woe--is such that a man of a pure heart cannot touch it. And I say, that, as long as I love my country--so long I am concerned in all these things, and so long I will be concerned in them. Therefore, if men say, “What do you understand of the mechanism of politics?” I say, “The machinery of politics I know very little about; but I know what courses tend toward rectitude, intelligence, liberty; and I know these thing better than men do who dabble in politics. For, when a man forgets God, country, manhood, that he may go down and mould his nefarious plans, I know more than he does, because I stand out in the Upper light.” Do you say, “Is not this strange to be talking on Sunday night and in a church about these things”? What then! do you not believe that men are corrupt? that the young men are perverted in their ambition? that the bottom is falling out of honesty and patriotism? And is there to be nobody to say anything about these things? Have you a church that is like a boy’s toy? and am I to stand and play on my trumpet for the amusement of the nursery? Am I to see humanity damaged, the nation shaken, God’s cause in imminent peril, and must I remember that I am a minister, and not talk about these things? Is that your idea of a minister’s business? Was that the cause that made Isaiah, Jeremiah, Paul, martyrs, confessors, and every reformer who was hated in his own age and worshipped in the ages that followed? I tell you, it is the business of every man to whom God gives the opportunity, the understanding, the courage, and the impulse; and it is my business. And if the centurion says, “I would rather believe the shipmaster and the owner,” and he goes out, and will not take my advice, it will not be long before I shall have the chance to say to him after the desolating storm, “You ought to have heard my words.” (H. Ward Beecher.)

When the south wind blow softly.--

A fair wind

As far as Rhegium the ship had a comparatively prosperous voyage; but the cargo which was for that port having been discharged, the captain looked in vain for a favouring breeze. Either a calm prevailed at that time which prevented them getting out of the harbour, or else a north wind was blowing, which would be dead ahead. Anxiously did the skipper trace the sky for signs of an approaching breeze, or for indications that the rude north blast would change into a southerly zephyr. I do not know if the mariners in those days had learned to whistle for the wind. Perhaps they were so employed; but then, as now, whistling was waste of breath. The wind bloweth where it listeth, and whistles when it pleases, whether we whistle or no. By and by, in God’s good providence, not because the captain wished it, nor because the sailors whistled for it, but because Heaven’s order had gone forth, the wind veered round to the south, or else the calm became disturbed by a breeze, which seemed to be made on purpose for the north-bound craft. You may be sure that all was bustle immediately; up came the anchor, up went the sails, and away the galley flew before the favouring breeze. The passage was a quick one, too, for they came the next day to Puteoli. But it is my purpose to speak not so much of ships and sailors, as of Christians and of their trials.

I. The wind was at first unfavourable. I do not see what right we have, as men and women, much less as Christian men and women, to expect everything to favour us. My dear brother, remember that thou art a man, and that man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and consequently frail. But, further, thou art a sinful man. Sin is itself the greatest trouble, and the fruitful cause of every grief. Perhaps you are a seeker after Christ, longing for peace and crying for pardon, and you say to yourselves sometimes, “I am on a good errand, why should I find it so difficult? Why is the road so rough? Conscience speaks against me: the devil roars upon me: God’s people do not always favour and encourage me: sometimes God’s Word looks as black as midnight, and the preaching of the gospel has no sounds of love and mercy for me.” Why, dear friend, thou art wind-bound in the harbour of Rhegium, so to speak; but, believe me, the prize is so well worth having that you may be well content to seek it long and earnestly. It is no easy matter to be saved. In one sense it is simplicity itself--“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved”; but to believe is not mere child’s play. All things are possible to him that believeth, but to believe is impossible to the unregenerate heart. Christ Himself has said, “Strive to enter in at the strait gate,” and again, “The kingdom of God suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force.” “Ye shall seek Me,” saith the Lord, “and find Me when ye shall search for Me with all your heart.” Do not despair because of discouragement, but believe that the Lord is only drawing you to Himself, and longs as much as you do that He and you should be reconciled. But you are a Christian man: you have already trusted Christ and been baptized--at least I hope so--and joined the Church. And did you fancy that when you became identified with the Lord’s people you would be beyond the bounds of trouble? This is not true of the arms of the Church, for though it is a fold, its hurdles can be leaped by the devouring lion, and Christ’s disciples are sent forth “as sheep in the midst of wolves.” The inventory of the Christian’s possessions is not complete if “with persecutions” be omitted. God has the ruling of the winds and waves, and if He should sometimes send adverse currents and contrary breezes, tarry in the harbour of resignation till the time is fulfilled and His will accomplished. Note next that a headwind to us may be favourable to other people. Perhaps there was a calm in this case, and God was making rain for future days, and by evaporation forming the clouds to shelter tender fruit from excessive sunshine. Perhaps the north wind was blowing. Well, that was just the thing for the vessels that were bound south, was it not? However would they have got on if the south wind had sprung up before they got to their desired haven? Oh to have that spirit always which will say, “Lord, if I had my choice I would have the south wind, for I want to go right away north; but then there is somebody who wants to come south, so, Lord, I leave the wind, as well I may, in Thy hand. It shall be good for me though it does not seem so. The Lord will withhold no good thing from those that walk uprightly.” The winds are proverbially fickle. Who can manage them? God can! We speak of the laws by which the winds are governed, and science is constantly showing plainer proofs that there are such laws, but, mind you, they are not nature law’s, but those of nature’s God. “He causeth His wind to blow and the waters flow.” “He bringeth His wind out of His treasuries. He rode upon a cherub and did fly: yea He did fly upon the wings of the wind.” Now, if the winds, more fickle than anything and everything besides, are governed and controlled by the Master maker’s hand, every coincidence so called, every circumstance, every accident, is just as much under the gracious influence of a faithful Creator. Oh what joy it is to leave everything in the hands of God, to let Him cast the lot into the lap as well as to dispose of it. It is recorded of Napoleon Bonaparte that having spoken boastfully in the presence of friends about his projected invasion of Russia, and being rebuked by a good lady, who ventured to say, “Sire, man proposes, but God disposes,” the haughty emperor replied, as angrily as he well could to a lady, “I dispose as well as propose.” Thereupon he marched his millions into Russia, but never brought them back again; and all the snowy plains were incarnadined with Frenchmen’s blood; while he himself tasted the bitterness of defeat, and already felt his throne tottering beneath him. How powerless we are to direct our own affairs! The ship of which we speak was named the Castor and Pollux, and these two sons of Jove were supposed to have power over winds and waves. Why, then, did they not turn the wind round to suit their purpose? “Surely it is an easy matter for you, O sons of Jove, to make the breezes favourable! What means your name if you cannot help yourselves in this emergency? What’s in a name indeed?” It is interesting to recall the names of some vessels that have been wrecked--The Happy Return never came back again; The Success was a terrible failure; and The Prosperous never paid a dividend. Just before I left the harbour of Auckland, I saw floating in the harbour, with a yawing gap in her bows, a steamer named The Triumph. What a misnomer to be sure for a vessel that ran upon a rock right under the rays of a lighthouse and was with the greatest difficulty floated again. So they call their ships, but the winds and the waves triumph over them, and play with them like toys. And so we name our schemes and resolutions, and dote upon them, forgetting that God can break our ships and bring our counsels to nought. Well is it for us that; He does sometimes, yet we do not always think so. I like the spirit of the man who, having a large vane to tell which way the wind blew, cut in the zinc, “God is love.” Oh, to learn this lesson well I If the wind blows from the north, “God is love.” If it blows from the south, “God is love.” If it comes from the west, “God is love.” Aye, and if we have that bitter cold east wind, that is good for neither man nor beast, “God is love” just the same.

II. The north wind presently became fair. “It is a long lane that has no turning.” All things come to the man that can wait; and as to the Christian, why it ought to be his pleasure to wait. And was it not worth waiting for? When the breeze did spring up it was one of the best the skipper had ever experienced. It blew from exactly the right quarter, was neither too light or too stiff, and, if I mistake not, the Castor and Pollux made the fastest passage on record from Rhegium to Puteoli, for it is recorded in the apostolic log book, “We came the next day to Puteoli.” The Lord was waiting to be gracious. God was brewing the south wind while the passengers and crew were vexing themselves about the north wind. And so while I am waiting and longing, and wishing, and perhaps fretting and grumbling, God is getting my blessing ready for me--waiting to be gracious. My soul, wait thou only upon God! And this applies to the seekers of whom I spoke just now. You are crying, “Oh, that I knew where I might find Him,” and while you are yet speaking God is preparing a south wind. Do you not already feel its breath? Listen to this. It comes like a zephyr from the south--“Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out.” Does not that blow your way, and fit your case, and swell your sails? Oh that you would spread the canvas and catch the breeze.

III. As soon as it did become fair the sailors seized the opportunity. “Of course they did,” say you. Well, I do not know why “of course,” except that they were men of common sense. I would to God that all had common sense about spiritual things, and then I believe that all would “of course” be saved. Have you not heard many a sermon after which you have said, “I cannot understand how anyone could go away unconverted. How Could they help trusting in the Lord Jesus after that invitation, and after so sweet and plain a proclamation of the way of life?” The only reason is that the mind is darkened and the heart is hardened by unbelief. There is no “of course” about it till God makes His people willing in the day of His power. But see what these mariners did. Perhaps there was quite a flotilla of vessels in that port, and as soon as the wind changed the anchor chains began to click, and the sails to flap, but being once filled with the breeze, away sped each north-bound craft, through the harbour heads, while onlookers on the shore said one to another, “There go the ships! There go the ships!” The wind said “Go,” and they obeyed its voice. And we may do likewise in temporal and spiritual matters. ‘Tis said that “There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.” However this may be, I am convinced that many an opportunity is lost by people who, for want of confidence in themselves, or more often through want of trust in God, do not set sail till the breeze is gone. It is sadly so in spiritual matters. Repentance is too often delayed till death; and the foolish virgins come to the supper when the door is shut. We will suppose that the harbour is full of little vessels, all bound north. The south wind springs up, but, strange to say, there is no movement in all the fleet. Each ship remains as still as if it were a painted ship upon a painted ocean. I saw a woodcut the other day of a vessel in full sail but with her anchor holding fast to the rocks beneath. Never was such an absurdity practised in seafaring life, but I know many people who, when the gospel is preached and impressions are being made, instead of pulling the anchor up and yielding to God’s good Spirit, run out yet another lest they should be converted. One man told me to my face that he did not come to chapel because he was afraid he should be converted. I pray you act not thus. There is another vessel on which the crew and the skipper are fast asleep. They “turned in” as soon as the south wind blew. These are they who are unconcerned about their salvation. They are asleep. Not they are dead--“Dead in trespasses and sins.” Oh, man, wake up, put up thy sails and work thy vessel, for God will never save thee else. There must be some desire on thy part as well a power on His part. There is another vessel on board of which the most peculiar performance possible is going on. Mark you, there is a splendid wind blowing--what the sailors call a “spanking breeze”; and yet these men are actually endeavouring to move their craft with artificial airs. One of them has a blow pipe in his hands, with which he tries to blow the vessel along. Another uses a pair of bellows for the same purpose. Several of them are waving fans and seeking to waft their ship towards Puteoli. Fools that they are. God’s breath is better than the little breeze they make. And who are these? These are the self-righteous, who say, “You tell us that there is a righteousness provided by God, but we are above taking that.” They want to work out a righteousness of their own, and they are puffing and blowing, and try to speed their barques towards heaven. What supreme folly it is! Fellow sinner, thou hast but to seize the helm, or, better still, hand it over to the captain of thy salvation. There is yet another ship to notice. No one appears on the deck, for the sailors and officers are poring over maps, and parchments, and charts. They seem to have forgotten that there is a fair breeze blowing, and possibly do not mean to set sail till they have mastered their geometry and geography. These are they who say, “No, I want to understand everything fully before I believe anything at all. I must know how I am going to round the promontory of election, and how I can reconcile the current of God’s sovereignty with the counter-current of man’s responsibility!” I cannot blame anyone for wishing to comprehend the deep things of God, nor would I dissuade you from inquiring about predestination, but such inquiries must not prevent the use of the means of grace, or the acceptance of the truth as it is in Jesus. For the present it suffices me that God’s mercy is for all and upon all them that believe. Notice, lastly, that they came ere long to Puteoli. There were wells at Puteoli, and palms and fountains, and doubtless weary travellers rejoiced in these. There, too, the apostle “found brethren.” Oh, if thou wilt come to Christ thou shalt find a well of living water, a bath of precious blood that washes white as snow, a fountain which will be in your heart like a well of water springing up unto everlasting life. And there are brethren too--the Elder Brother, God’s dear Son, and all the children of the family, who will welcome you into the Church and go with you hand-in-hand to glory. But Paul did not stop at Puteoli. He had to go overland then to Rome; and, as you know, at Rome he laid down his life for Jesus’ sake. But Rome was not the terminus of his journey. That is where the red line on the map stops, but we want a celestial map to show his real resting place. No, I forgot; he has not stopped yet, for he is journeying on and on, ever making progression, ever getting nearer to the Saviour’s face. And I believe that every Christian, though he be shipwrecked at Melita--though he be delayed three days at Syracuse--though he become wind-bound at Rhegium--though he tarry seven days at Puteoli with the brethren, aye, and though he suffer persecution and martyrdom at Rome--will land at last in glory through the grace of God. (Thos. Spurgeon.)

Baffling winds

Seafaring people have, as if by common consent, divided the ocean off into regions, and characterised them according to the winds; e.g., there are the “trade-wind regions,” the “variables,” the “horse latitudes,” the “doldrums,” etc. The “equatorial doldrums,” besides being a region of calms and baffling winds, is a region noted for its rains and clouds, which make it one of the most oppressive and disagreeable places at sea. The emigrant ships from Europe for Australia have to cross it. They are often baffled in it for two or three weeks; then the children and the passengers who are of delicate health suffer most. It is a frightful graveyard on the wayside to that golden land. In crossing the equatorial doldrums the mariner has passed a ring of clouds that encircles the earth. And do not these doldrums illustrate a class of influences to which we are all subject? Are we not all certain in our journey to have days of deep melancholy, when all is dismal, when our hopes are baffled, when we make no progress and yet have no calm? Then, indeed, we suffer; and depression clouds the sky of all its light. Take courage, drooping heart, and remember that thou too hast a golden land in view! (Scientific Illustrations.)

The prognosticating instinct

Great are the advantages which are possessed by that man who is blessed with the prognosticating instinct; for thereby he is enabled to observe the signs of the times, prepare prudently for the things which are looming in the future, and to be ready to perform his part discreetly, when the man who is not similarly endowed is in all the tumult of surprise and confusion. But this instinct is not confined to man; it has a far wider range. And the individual who has not yet seen the advantages of being ready in season and out of season will do well to investigate this matter. He will be surprised at the state of constant preparedness in which even creatures far inferior to himself are to be found. The actiniae throw out their feelers and expand themselves when a continuance of fine weather is to be expected, but withdraw and contract themselves, even in a room, when a change is impending. The mussels, before the approach of a storm, spin several new threads to secure their hold on the rocks; and leeches rise to the surface of the water before rain. Spiders enlarge their webs during fine weather, but spin only short threads, work seldom, or hide themselves in corners during rain. Many beetles, by their active flight and humming sounds, give tokens of the morrow’s brightness. Before rain, bees remain either in their hives or in the neighbourhood of them; and ants convey deep into the hills the pupae which they expose to the sun in fine weather. If the atmosphere be lowering in the morning, pigeons feed rapidly, and return to their cots, and the hare hides itself; but the mole comes to the surface of the ground, and the squirrel seeks its nest and shuts its entrance. (Scientific Illustrations.)