An Inevitable Crash | Sunday, February 28, 2021

When it was decided that we should sail to Italy, they delivered Paul and some other prisoners to one named Julius, a centurion of the Augustan Regiment. So, entering a ship of Adramyttium, we put to sea, meaning to sail along the coasts of Asia. Aristarchus, a Macedonian of Thessalonica, was with us. (Acts 27:1–2)

When the collision is inevitable and we are not at the helm, can we trust that the One who planned our path knows exactly what He is doing?

A Slight Deviation from the Text

I hope you don't mind if I slightly deviate from our text this week. We were going to be in Deuteronomy, but this morning I want to share a message from the New Testament book of Acts—a text I've taught from before and a similar message I have taught before. But it has been on my heart this last week as I've been working through it for a class I'm presently in. As we consider this passage and look at life in this present moment in 2021—and over the last year—one thing becomes clear: sometimes a crash is inevitable.

A Crash on a Louisiana Highway

Years ago I was driving in south Louisiana, just north of New Orleans, completing a long day of driving in torrential rain. Being from San Diego, I can honestly admit we San Diegans aren't exactly the best at driving in the rain. We don't get much of it, and that's part of the allure of the area. But if I remember correctly, we hold the record for the most accidents in a single hour in the United States—of course during an hour when it rained.

I was merging from one highway to another, accelerating to get up to the speed of traffic, when I felt an unsettling feeling from the rear tires as the truck lost traction and began to hydroplane. Years before, my dad had told me that if you're ever sliding in snow or hydroplaning in rain, you need to steer into the slide. But in that moment I don't recall reacting the right way. Very quickly the vehicle was spinning across the lanes into oncoming traffic, and it was clear a crash was inevitable. Ultimately I crashed into the side of a late-model Ford Thunderbird. Once I lost control, there was nothing I could do to avoid the collision.

Crashes We Can See Coming

Every one of us has a story like that. I was recently speaking with a friend who had seen a 1,500% increase in his investment over the last dozen years—from an initial investment in the tens of thousands, now up to nearly a million dollars. He's not an investment advisor or a big-time market watcher; he just put money into a number of investments about twelve years ago. But he told me he's pulling the money out because he's concerned a crash is inevitable. He may be right; he may be wrong—I'm not an investment advisor, so don't take advice from me.

A number of people made out very well doing the same thing just before the dot-com bust of the early 2000s. And these names may not be familiar unless you've seen the movie The Big Short—Michael Burry and Mark Baum did the same thing just before the subprime fiasco of 2008 and 2009. They could see that a crash was inevitable. And the Apostle Paul, nearly 2,000 years ago, could see the very same thing.

Paul's Collision Story Begins

Paul was on a ship being extradited from Caesarea in Israel to Rome. The story of this collision is recorded in Acts 27, with a little more in chapter 28. But his collision story actually began several chapters—and several years—before this ill-fated voyage.

On a journey back to Jerusalem after years of Spirit-guided and divinely successful ministry among the cities of Greece, Macedonia, and Asia Minor, Paul had received a benevolence offering for the Christians in Jerusalem, who were going through a famine. He was bringing this offering to the believers in severe need, and he was intent upon celebrating Pentecost—which is, for all intents and purposes, the birthday of the church.

Throughout this final journey, at virtually every place he stopped, the Christians and churches would plead with Paul to change his plans. They prophesied that chains and tribulations awaited him in Jerusalem. Just as they foretold, an uproar arose in the city, and through a chain of events Paul found himself no longer a free man. He was taken into Roman custody and underwent a multi-year trial, which ended with his appeal to the highest authority of the day—the Roman emperor. Though it was clear to all who examined his case that Paul had done nothing deserving of death or chains, he would have to bring his case to Caesar.

Sometimes Our Path Is Planned for Us

Luke, the author, is remarkably specific in chronicling the time and location of these events—so specific that this passage is used even by non-Christian historians to understand ancient shipping in the Mediterranean 2,000 years ago. Based on the names and temporal markers, we can determine that this voyage from Caesarea to Rome likely began in mid-August of the year 60 A.D.

But notice those words: "when it was decided that we should sail to Italy." Though Paul is at center stage, sometimes our path is planned for us. Sometimes we don't have a say in what's going on. Even when we can see and would desire to avoid an inevitable crash, it is entirely out of our hands, because we are not ultimately in control. I don't know about you, but I don't like being out of control of situations. I don't think I'm a control freak—but I don't like to be out of control.

As you follow this story, you realize Paul is in many ways just a passenger, even though he's at the center of the drama. He's certainly not at the helm. But here's the key: though the path was planned for Paul and he was not in control, neither were those planning the journey. The centurion guarding him, the soldiers, the merchants, the helmsman, the owner of the ship—none of them were really in control either.

God's Reassuring Word

To understand the events of Acts 27 and 28, we need to back up and remember the prophetic, reassuring word Paul received when all this chaos began in Acts 23. Early in his incarceration, when the first threats were made against his life and he was uncertain about his future, God gave him this assurance:

Be of good cheer, Paul; for as you have testified for Me in Jerusalem, so you must also bear witness at Rome. (Acts 23:11)

I said our path is sometimes planned for us, but if you're taking notes, remove the word "sometimes" and just write that our path is planned for us. That was Paul's assurance as he lived through this multi-year storm, careening toward a shipwreck at the end of Acts 27 and a jail cell in Rome in Acts 28. In the same way he had testified of God in Jerusalem, he would testify of Him in Rome.

Say what you will about the sovereignty of God—some Christians hold a very strong position, others a softer view. But the picture given in these final chapters of Acts is that God is doing something, and He knows what He's doing even when it's not clear to us. This is a true encouragement to me in all we've experienced as individuals, communities, and churches over the last year.

Man Plans, God Directs

I'm reminded of the 3,000-year-old wisdom of Solomon:

A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. (Proverbs 16:9)

My pastor growing up, Pat Kenny, who pastored the church before I did, had a magnet on the side of a metal filing cabinet that said, "Man plans, God laughs." That may be a hard one for us, but it can also be a great peace-inducing reality. Paul, in Philippians, writes of the peace of God that surpasses understanding. He wrote those words after this ill-fated voyage. Where do you think he learned of that understanding-surpassing peace? Right here, in the midst of storms.

I love what Solomon writes in the New Living Translation:

The Lord directs our steps, so why try to understand everything along the way? (Proverbs 20:24)

I've wrestled with that for a long time. I'm constantly trying to understand everything along the way, and I have to remind myself that the Lord is directing things and the path is planned for me. The question is: can I enjoy the ride even when it feels like I'm hydroplaning toward a collision?

Learning to Walk by Faith

Our path is planned for us, and the Planner—God—has a plan much bigger than the one we would plan for ourselves. Can you trust that this is true? That's what disciples of Jesus are learning every single day. As we walk with the Lord, we're learning to trust Him, learning to live by faith and not by sight. That's a difficult lesson, and maybe you've experienced its difficulty over the last year. I certainly have. But there's no other way to be pleasing to God. The author of Hebrews says, "Without faith it is impossible to please God" (Hebrews 11:6). If we want to be pleasing to Him, we have to learn this important lesson of trusting Him and walking by faith.

Following Paul's Route

So Paul, Luke, and another Christian from Thessalonica named Aristarchus, along with a ship full of merchants and soldiers, set out from Caesarea bound for Rome in mid-August of 60 A.D. It's amazing to me that I had the privilege of following almost this identical route at the end of 2019. Pastor David Guzik of Enduring Word, my friend Lance Ralston who pastors a Calvary Chapel church in Oxnard, and I led a group of over 100 people—including my wife and parents—on a Mediterranean cruise in the fall of 2019.

The ship sailed from Israel to Cyprus, then to Malta, and ultimately to Rome. Coincidentally, while traveling from Cyprus to Malta, we hit a storm and had a couple of rough days at sea. Thankfully, our trip didn't take nearly as long as Paul's, and was a whole lot more comfortable—we were on a beautiful cruise ship—but it was interesting to see what the seas in that place looked like at that time of year, and we talked through this very passage as we sailed.

"Men, You Should Have Listened to Me"

I don't have time to read every verse, but it's worth pointing out that this journey was not going the way the helmsman anticipated. Paul had already experienced shipwrecks before, so by this time he may have had a little oceanic PTSD. Before the storm, Paul told the sailors, "Men, I perceive that this voyage will end with disaster and much loss, not only of the cargo and ship, but also of our lives." The seasoned sailors didn't listen to him.

Which leads to one of my favorite things from the Apostle Paul in the book of Acts—an apostolic "I told you so":

Men, you should have listened to me, and not have sailed from Crete and incurred this disaster and loss. And now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For there stood before me this night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I serve, saying, "Do not be afraid, Paul; you must be brought before Caesar; and indeed God has granted you all those who sail with you." Therefore take heart, men, for I believe God that it will be just as it was told me. However, we must run aground on a certain island. (Acts 27:21–26)

Storms for His Purposes

Again, in the midst of the storm, as the crash loomed and the collision was inevitable, Paul received the reassuring word from God—and with it he was able to reassure others. Here is the key that became clear to Paul 2,000 years ago and the key I hope you can hold on to: the storms God leads us into are intended for His purposes, to bring salvation to others.

There were 276 persons aboard this ship. The merchants and soldiers didn't listen to the prisoner named Paul early in the voyage. But in the end, as they journeyed through this storm, Paul gained credibility. As he had peace in the midst of the storm, and others going through the same storm witnessed it, he gained the opportunity to speak evangelistically to all who were on board.

Our path is planned for us. "God has prepared good works for all of us that we should walk in them" (Ephesians 2:10). Sometimes the path takes us right in and through huge storms—but the storms God leads us into are intended for His purposes, to bring salvation to others. This was true in the story of Joseph in Genesis, and it's true here in Acts 27, and it's true in our lives as well. If you can receive it, the circumstance you're facing right now, the storm that seems to be leading to an inevitable crash—God meant it for good, in order to bring about, as it is this day, the saving of many people alive.

Closing Prayer

Father, I pray that You would help us take to heart this passage and the events that took place in Paul's life, and that we would learn the lessons from them—that Lord, You have a path You have ordered for us. We have plans for ourselves, but You have a path You've ordered for us, and sometimes it takes us in and through challenging circumstances. Ultimately You want to use those circumstances to bring honor and glory to Your name and to make us stand out as a light.

So Lord, I pray that as we go through challenging circumstances, through storms, through dark times, through valleys, You would use those things in our lives as we follow You—trusting You, not walking by sight but by faith—to cause us to shine brightly, that people would see our good works and glorify You, our Father in heaven. I pray for my brothers and sisters, Lord, that You would encourage them with this word and strengthen our faith in You, that we would be pleasing to You by our trust and our faith. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.