Acts 27

And all this as Paul makes his way to Rome.

But you know, as Luke sort of carries us along in this final stage of his great sort of history

of the early church, we learn something along the way in this chapter about life in Christ.

And I think the thing we learn is this.

In particular, we see how the gospel makes us agents of hope in hopeless situations.

Let's begin by looking at the first 20 verses of chapter 27.

Remember here, Paul is under arrest and on trial in Caesarea.

He has appealed to Caesar.

And now at last, after trial upon trial, the journey to Rome finally begins.

In your bulletin, there's a little map.

The first time I read this chapter, I thought, I have no idea where any of these places are.

So there's a little map there to help you along the way as I read along and read for us.

So let me read Acts 27 verses 1 through 20.

Acts 27:1–20

And when it was decided that we should sail for Italy, they delivered Paul and some other prisoners

to a centurion of the Augustan cohort named Julius.

And embarking in a ship of Adramidium, which was about to sail to the ports along the coast of Asia,

we put to sea, accompanied by Aristarchus, a Macedonian from Thessalonica.

The next day we put in at Sidon, and Julius treated Paul kindly and gave him leave to go out to his friends and be cared for.

And putting out to sea from there, we sailed under the lee of Cyprus because the winds were against us.

And when we had sailed across the open sea along the coast of Cilicia and Pamphylia, we came to Myra and Lycia.

There the centurion found a ship of Alexandria sailing for Italy and put us on board.

We sailed slowly for a number of days and arrived with difficulty off Nydas.

And as the wind did not allow us to go farther, we sailed under the lee of Crete off Salmonae.

Coasting along it with difficulty, we came to a place called Fair Havens, near which was the city of Lycia.

Since much time had passed and the voyage was now dangerous because even the fast was already over,

Paul advised them, saying,

Sirs, I perceive that the voyage will be with injury and much loss, not only of the cargo and the ship, but also our lives.

But the centurion paid more attention to the pilot and the owner of the ship than to what Paul said.

And because the harbor was not suitable to spend the winter in, the majority decided to put out to sea from there,

on the chance that somehow they could reach Phoenix, a harbor of Crete,

facing both southwest and northwest, and spend the winter there.

Now when the south wind blew gently, supposing that they had obtained their purpose,

they weighed anchor and sailed along Crete close to the shore.

But soon a tempestuous wind called the Northeaster struck down from the land.

And when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven along.

Running under the lee of a small island named Kauda, we managed with difficulty to secure the ship's boat.

After hoisting it up, they used supports to undergird the ship.

Then fearing that they would run aground on the surdice, they lowered the gear, and thus they were driven along.

Since we were violently storm-tossed, they began the next day to jettison the cargo.

And on the third day, they threw the ship's tackle overboard with their own hands.

When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us,

all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.

Now I would give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.

So says Gonzalo in the first scene of Shakespeare's The Tempest as the play sort of opens with a frightened crew in a deadly storm.

I think the closest I personally ever got to that feeling was a number of years ago when Beth and I were riding a ferry to Nantucket in the winter.

Friends of ours invited us to join them at their sort of, I think it was a great aunt's place on the island.

It was out of season.

So, you know, it was sort of a nice free little getaway.

So we all met and boarded the ferry in Rhode Island, I think.

But no sooner had we set out in this big ferry, and the sky turned gray, and the water got rough.

And the ship actually started rocking so badly.

I remember being inside sort of laying on one of the chairs, trying to, you know, keep whatever I ate for lunch down.

And I remember the sort of ship rocking, and as it rocked this way out the window, we saw nothing but water.

And then as it rocked this way, we saw nothing but sky.

And we pretty much went like that the whole way across the Sound to Nantucket.

And thankfully, it didn't get any worse than that.

Maybe you've been in a worse storm than that out on the sea.

But, you know, for a land lover like me from the middle of Pennsylvania, that was bad enough.

And trust me, in the middle of that, I wasn't quoting Shakespeare.

Now I would give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground.

I was pretty much just saying, ah, ready for this one to be over.

Let's get to land.

Of course, my ferry ride wasn't all that bad.

But for Luke and Paul and their Thessalonian friend Aristarchus, the situation was beyond desperate.

All our hope of being saved was at last abandoned, Luke says.

Notice how he uses the first person there.

In verse 1, Luke says, we set sail.

This is another one of those sections in Acts where Luke was personally accompanying Paul on his journey.

You might wonder, well, what's Luke been up to since chapter 21 when he came with Paul to Jerusalem?

Probably been researching all the things that went into his gospel for the last two years living in Palestine with Paul.

But anyway, here the sort of we section picks up and Luke is on the boat with Paul on this journey.

In the 19th century, a Scottish sailor named James Smith wrote a book called The Voyage and Shipwreck of St. Paul,

which is all about this chapter of Acts.

And in fact, most of the sort of studies of this chapter of Acts still make reference to that study from 150 plus years ago.

And Smith himself was an experienced sailor and he actually lived in the Mediterranean for a number of years.

I don't know what a Scottish sailor was doing living in the Mediterranean, but there you go.

He was eccentric, I guess.

And he basically spent a whole winter investigating Luke's account here.

Basically resailing the route, studying the historicity of shipping and boating and storms at the time.

And his conclusion in that study, having basically lived through it himself, was this.

He says,

No sailor would have written in a style so little like that of a sailor.

But no man not a sailor could have written a narrative of a sea voyage so consistent in all its parts,

unless from actual observation.

In other words, what Smith is saying is that, look, on the one hand, Luke's definitely not a sailor.

We know that from his style.

But for someone who's not a professional on the water, there's only one way.

He could have put it together with such an accurate and consistent account.

He must have been there, Smith concludes, and seen it with his own eyes.

And that means that Acts, in this sort of chapter of Acts, doesn't just have some real historical reliability behind it,

but it also has real existential reality behind it.

In other words, Luke knew what it was like to be in such a desperate situation

that he had abandoned any hope of being saved.

Of course, the journey started out well, right?

Luke and Aristarchus, in a real act of friendship, commit to go with Paul on his journey to Rome.

They probably paid for their passage themselves in order to accompany him along the way.

And Paul was even allowed to visit his Christian friends in Sidon.

In verse 3 there, the phrase friends, or his friends, or the friends,

might even be a technical term that Luke is using for the church.

A sign of the deep bonds that the gospel creates.

But then the clouds begin to gather.

Twice in verses 4 through 8, Luke says that they sailed along only with great difficulty.

The winds were against us.

They had to sail under the lee of Crete and then of Cyprus.

That is, they sort of sailed along the island in such a way that the ongoing winds were blocked by the landmass.

The trip was increasingly difficult.

And when they made it to Crete, it was already October.

The fast that Luke mentions in verse 9 lets us know really what time of year it is

because there was only one prescribed fast in the whole Jewish calendar.

And it was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, which happens in the fall.

And what we know is that sailing in the Mediterranean was notoriously difficult after September.

That time of year, that period of history.

And we also know that shipping and boating and most things on the water

essentially stopped from mid-November until mid-March.

So when Paul tells the centurion and the crew to not keep going,

to just sort of settle for their place in Fair Havens

and not make the one-day trip up the coast of Phoenix,

he's using pretty good gut instinct.

Of course, Paul wasn't a professional sailor, right?

But over the course of his missionary journey,

some scholars estimate that he had sailed over 3,000 miles in three decades.

In 2 Corinthians, a letter written before this trip to Rome,

Paul writes that he had been shipwrecked no less than three times.

And one of those times, he had spent a day and a night adrift at sea.

Paul knew the water perhaps a little too well for his own liking.

But the crew decides to take a risk, right?

Phoenix was a better harbor to spend the winter,

better sort of protected from the winds that would come along,

a better place to sort of shield the ship and the cargo.

And it was just a day's trip up the coast.

So they go for it.

And it all goes wrong.

A typhoon force drives them out to sea,

and they start taking any measures they can to just stay afloat.

They bring in the little boat, tie it to the deck that was used to shuttle back and forth to shore.

They undergird the ship with cables to keep it from breaking apart.

They're afraid of the Sirtis sandbars that were off the northern coast of Africa

that were notorious as a graveyard for ships,

so they lower the gear and try to slow down.

And the next day, they jettison the cargo.

And the third day, they throw even the ship's cargo overboard, Luke says, with their own hands.

In other words, it wasn't the waves that dashed it off.

They were so scared that they themselves threw it over in any attempt to save themselves.

And as the storm continues day after day, at last they throw their hope itself overboard.

Luke says, neither sun nor stars appeared for many days.

Which isn't just sort of a poetic way of saying that the storm was really bad.

In fact, you know, in the ancient world, the sun and the stars were the way in which a ship's crew navigated.

That was their navigation system.

That's how they got their bearings on the water.

So, Luke is basically saying, we were totally and utterly lost.

And we had no idea where this storm was driving us.

And in the face of all that, Luke says they lose hope.

Now, friend, as we think about this storm,

I wonder as you look over your life, if you've ever been there.

Not in a boat, per se, but in a storm.

A situation so unrelenting, so fierce, that you have no idea where it's driving you.

And you've done everything you think you can think of to stay afloat.

And you've taken every bit of advice people have given you.

And you've tried every tactic that you've read in all the self-help books.

But still, you're being driven out to sea, as it were.

It shows no signs of stopping.

And you have no idea where it's taking you.

What desperate, seemingly hopeless situation are you in this morning?

Maybe it's a work situation that seems headed for disaster,

and you can do little to stop it.

Maybe it's a problem with your spouse that's never resolved,

and you feel like you can't even talk about it because it's so raw,

and you've been over it so many times.

Maybe it's a health condition that's chronic and won't change.

Maybe it's depression that won't lift.

Maybe it's loneliness that gnaws away at you like the waves that pound the shore

day after day, taking more sand out to sea.

What storm are you in?

And if you're not in a situation like this right now,

well, friend, what are you going to do when you are?

Where do we find the courage to face the storms of life with hope?

Well, let's pick up our passage in verse 21.

Luke writes,

And now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you,

but only of the ship.

For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong

and whom I worship.

And he said,

Do not be afraid, Paul.

You must stand before Caesar.

And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you.

So take heart, men,

for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told.

But we must run aground on some island.

Twice, Paul tells them and us here to take heart, take courage.

You know, you can even translate that phrase, cheer up.

Now, that sounds a little crazy, right?

They've just lost all hope of living.

They've jettisoned all the cargo, thrown the tackle overboard,

and now Paul stands up and says,

Guys, newsflash, cheer up.

Take heart.

How can he say such a thing?

Because in the middle of the storm,

God reaffirmed his word of promise.

Jesus had promised Paul back in chapter 23 that he would testify in Rome.

And now God sends an angel into the middle of the storm

to remind and reaffirm that promise to Paul.

He will stand before Caesar.

And then God assures him even further

that no one on the ship will lose their lives either.

Do you see the important principle that's emerging here?

This is how God gives us courage and hope

in the face of seemingly hopeless situations.

He reminds us of his promises.

When we plunge into the darkest night of the storm,

when the stars go black,

and we have no sense of direction or purpose,

God's words of promise are like a ballast

that keep our ship from tipping over,

that keep our ship from sort of capsizing in the midst of the storm.

Now you might be wondering,

well, look, do we today have anything like this promise

that God made to Paul back then?

I mean, he got an angel and some pretty specific words.

I mean, is that what we get?

Should we expect something like that?

Are those the kind of promises that God gives us today?

Well, in one sense, no.

But in another sense, yes.

And here's what I mean.

On the one hand,

Paul was given a very specific and remarkable promise

that he would make it to Rome alive.

And the reality is that we today

have nothing so specific in God's word to us in Scripture.

So that's not exactly what we should expect.

But that doesn't mean we're without hope.

Because on the other hand,

there are promises in the New Testament

that are for every believer

that give us the same courage

and the same hope that Paul had.

For instance, think about the truth of Ephesians 1, 11,

that God works out everything

in conformity with the purpose of his will.

Here we're told that the circumstances of life,

every single one of them,

are being so influenced by God

that they follow his plan,

that he works everything,

even raging storms,

according to the counsel of his will.

But you might still ask,

okay, that's great,

but how is that good news for me?

God, granted, orchestrates all things,

whatever that means,

but does he have my best in mind

in all of that orchestration?

Sometimes it doesn't exactly seem so.

But it becomes good news

when you consider other texts,

like Romans 8, 28.

There we're told that God works,

he controls, he directs,

in all things,

every circumstance and event,

for the good of those who love him,

who have been called,

according to his purpose.

This is a guarantee that God's plan is for our good,

and that nothing can thwart it.

Or think of the promise in 2 Corinthians 4,

16 through 17.

Paul writes there,

so we do not lose heart.

There it is again.

Keep heart.

Though our outer self is wasting away,

Paul writes,

our inner self is being renewed day by day.

For this light and momentary affliction is preparing for us

an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

When you really grasp how profound and comprehensive

those promises are for everyone in Christ,

you start to realize that in essence,

we have the same thing that Paul had.

No, we don't have the specificity Paul got.

Paul knew he would make it to Rome.

I don't know if I'm going to make it to lunch today.

But no matter what comes,

God promises that it's for my good,

and it's preparing for me an eternal weight of glory.

No matter how raging the storm,

it's not going to separate me

from the good of God for my life.

Which is to say,

that we can know beyond the shadow of a doubt

that God will give us

what we ourselves would have asked for

if we knew all that He knows.

If we had God's perspective

and we were praying in light of that,

that is exactly what we would receive.

That's exactly what we would ask for.

The American poet John Greenleaf Whittier

wrote these lines about the providence of God.

He writes,

Here in the maddening maze of things,

when tossed by storm and flood,

to one fixed ground my spirit clings.

I know that God is good.

But of course, that's the real struggle, isn't it?

The battle to know and believe

in the midst of the storms that God is good.

To be able to actually say with Paul in verse 25,

I have faith in God.

That is, I trust God

that it will be exactly as I have been told.

Isn't that our real heart need?

To be able to trust Him?

To trust that He's good?

To trust that His promises are working out

exactly as we've been told?

How do we get to that place of trust?

How do we get to the place

that even in the midst of your storm,

no matter what it may be,

you can have the courage and the hope

that springs up

from a deep trust in God's promises?

Well, think for a second with me.

Have you ever considered that the storyline

of the Bible

is really one long story

when it boils down to it

of God rescuing His people

through storms and seas?

God rescues Noah

through the seas of the flood.

God rescues Israel

through the waters of the Red Sea.

God even rescues Jonah,

the bigoted runaway prophet,

from a deadly storm at sea.

Maybe not the way He would want to be saved,

swallowed by a fish,

but still saved.

But friends,

this history of God with His people

is telling us something more

than just the fact

that God has a really good track record

with storms and seas.

It's all meant to help us see

that there's a greater storm

that threatens us.

And you won't really be able

to trust God

in a deep, vital, personal,

life-changing way

until you see

that this greater storm

isn't your circumstances.

And this greater storm

isn't your job problems.

And it's not your relationships.

And it's not your physical health.

No, the greatest storm that we face

is a storm of our own sin

and God's just anger

and opposition against it.

And you have to see

that in this storm,

we are truly helpless in ourselves.

No matter how much cargo

you throw overboard,

that storm remains.

But here's the shocking thing.

The Bible,

after so many stories

about God rescuing His people

through the storm,

comes to its very climax

with one who Himself

sails into that greatest storm.

But instead of being rescued,

He's abandoned in darkness.

The sun goes out

and He's crushed beneath the waves.

What's happening?

Has God somehow lost the plot

of the great story

that He was telling?

No, friends.

No, friends.

On the cross,

Jesus Christ took the full storm

of God's wrath

as our substitute.

so that now in Him,

no matter what other storm we face,

even if our ship is dashed

on the rocks,

even if we go down

into death itself,

we won't be lost.

Jesus stood in the greatest storm

for us,

in our place,

bearing the penalty we deserved

so that we can know

God's love and peace

no matter what winds

and no matter what waves might come.

His was the ultimate rescue

from the deadliest storm.

And God demonstrated all of this

by raising Him from the dead

on the third day.

And friends,

when you see Christ's

sacrificial death for you,

when you see Him

triumphing over your sin

and your death

and God's wrath

and the resurrection,

when you see that,

then your heart

will begin to trust

God's promises.

Then you'll be able

to face any storm

with courage.

Then you'll be able

to lose the ship

and know that God

hasn't lost you.

Paul says in verse 23,

the God to whom I belong

and whom I worship.

Do you know that you belong

to God in Christ?

That the same special care

that God showed to Paul

throughout all of his years

and all of his journeys

and all of his mishaps,

God shows to everyone

who turns and trusts

in His Son.

He knows every wind that blows.

He knows every wave that breaks.

He knows every word

and each one He's using

to make you fit for glory

and nothing will break His promise.

If He has given His Son for you,

if He has put His Spirit into you,

then friends,

His promise will not fail.

One writer describes how

several years ago,

some boards and veneers

cut from an oak beam

of an 80-year-old ship

were exhibited

at a fashionable furniture store

on Broadway in New York City.

They attracted attention,

he says,

because of their elegant coloring

and beautiful grain.

Equally striking

were some mahogany beams

taken from a ship

that shelled the seas

60 years ago.

The years of travel

had contracted

the pores of the wood

and deepened its colors

so that they were

as magnificent

and bright

as those of an antique

Chinese vase.

The wood has since been used

to make a cabinet,

the writer says,

that sits in a place of honor

in the living room

of a wealthy New York family.

There's also a great difference,

he goes on to say,

between the quality of people

who have lived listless,

self-indulgent,

and useless lives

and the quality of those

who have sailed

through rough seas,

carrying cargo

and burdens

as servants of God

and as helpers of others.

In the latter group,

not only have the stress

and strain of life

seeped into their lives,

but the aroma

of the sweetness

of their cargo

has also been absorbed

into the very pores

of every fiber

of their character.

Lewis Albert Banks.

Do you see what he's saying, friends?

The storms of life,

though they rack you

and try you,

they're actually making you

into something beautiful

in a way that nothing else can.

like the wood of a ship

that's been weathered

and cured

through the weight

of a thousand journeys,

so God is making you

into something of worth

and beauty

with each wave

that crashes

against your deck.

Do you want to face storms

with courage

and hope?

Friend,

go to this God.

trust his word of promise.

Throw yourself

upon the gospel itself,

Jesus' death

and resurrection for you,

and there you will find

more than enough

courage and hope

no matter what the seas

throw at you.

And what's more

is that this trust

of God

and his promises

won't just give you hope,

but it will actually

change you

and make you

into an agent of hope,

a minister of hope

to those who are seemingly

in hopeless situation

themselves.

We see this

in the rest of the passage

starting in verse 27.

Let's pick up

Luke's narrative there.

When the fourteenth night

had come,

as we were being driven

across the Adriatic Sea,

about midnight,

the sailors suspected

that they were nearing land.

So they took a sounding

and found twenty fathoms.

A little further on,

they took a sounding again

and found fifteen fathoms.

And fearing that we might

run on the rocks,

they let down four anchors

from the stern

and prayed for day to come.

And as the sailors

were seeking to escape

from the ship

and had lowered the ship's boat

into the sea

under pretense

of laying out anchors

from the bow,

Paul said to the centurion

and the soldiers,

unless these men

stay in the ship,

you cannot be saved.

Then the soldiers

cut away the ropes

of the ship's boat

and let it go.

As day was about to dawn,

Paul urged them all

to take some food,

saying,

Today's the fourteenth day

that you've continued

in suspense

and without food,

having taken nothing.

Therefore,

I urge you to take some food,

for it will give you strength,

for not a hair

is to perish

from the head

of any of you.

And when he had said

these things,

he took bread,

and giving thanks

in the presence of all,

he broke it

and began to eat.

Then they were all

encouraged

and ate some food

themselves.

There were in all

two hundred and seventy-six

persons in the ship,

and when they had

eaten enough,

they lightened the ship,

throwing out the weed

into the sea.

Now when it was day,

they did not recognize

the land,

but they noticed

a bay with a beach

on which they planned,

if possible,

to run the ship ashore.

So they cast off

the anchors

and let them in the sea,

at the same time

loosening the ropes

that tied the rudders,

then hoisting the foresail

to the wind

they made for the beach.

But striking a reef,

they ran the vessel aground.

The bow stuck

and remained immovable,

and the stern

was being broken up

by the surf.

The soldier's plan

was to kill the prisoners

lest any should swim away

and escape,

but the centurion,

wishing to save Paul,

kept them from carrying

out their plan.

He ordered those

who could swim

to jump overboard first

and make for the land

and the rest on planks

or pieces of the ship.

And so it was

that all were brought

safely to land.

Notice how the day

progressively breaks

in this section.

In verse 27,

it's midnight.

In verse 33,

it's about dawn.

And in verse 39,

it's day.

And by way of application,

I think we see

two things that are true

of those who hold fast

to God's promises

in the storm.

First,

Paul's trust in God

carries others

in the face of crisis.

One commentator writes,

buoyed by his belief

in God's sovereignty,

Paul acted with calm

at a time when others

were panicking.

In the rest of the chapter,

right,

Paul steps forward

as a leader

who can be trusted

and the crew

follows him.

Which helps us to see,

by the way,

that in verse 21,

Paul isn't saying,

by the way,

I told you so.

Did you wonder that

when we read it?

No,

Paul's saying,

look,

trust me.

And we see

that Paul's able

to do much good

in the face

of a seemingly

hopeless situation.

He's able to keep his head

and act wisely

because he's richly rooted

in what God has promised.

And when the sailors

want to run,

Paul makes sure they stay.

After all,

who's going to steer

the ship to shore

if all the sailors

have cut and run?

That's why,

by the way,

everyone's life

depends on them

staying in the ship.

And when the crew

is too tired to eat,

Paul gives them

something to eat.

And when the soldiers

are ready to kill

the prisoners

for fear that they

themselves will be punished

if the prisoners escape,

it's for Paul's sake

that the centurion

keeps them alive.

Through it all,

Paul becomes

an agent of hope.

I think especially

of verses 33 through 38,

breaking the bread,

getting the men to eat,

you know,

it wasn't just

a practical move,

though of course

it wasn't less than that.

One person observed,

Paul knew that hungry men

are not efficient men.

Fair enough.

But more than that,

Paul taking the bread

on the deck of that ship

and feeding those men

was a symbol of hope.

Despairing people

don't eat a meal

and they don't give thanks.

And yet Paul leads them

in both.

His hope,

his courage,

it carried the rest of them.

And so too,

friends,

the church is meant

to do the same thing today.

We too are meant

to be agents of hope,

knowing that God

has not abandoned us

or his world.

Knowing that no matter

how difficult

or chaotic

or unjust

life becomes,

God's promises

still stand.

God's kingdom

is still advancing.

And what's ahead

for creation

is not ultimately

darkness,

but daylight.

New life

after the storm.

The world healed

and made right.

God's kingdom

and we,

the church,

are placed

in the middle

of this story

to bear witness

through our words

and our deeds

of the hope

of the gospel

that the Lord Jesus

reigns

and creation

one day

will rejoice,

liberated

from its bondage

to decay,

as Paul will say.

So we see

that holding

to God's promises

makes us agents

of hope

in a hopeless world,

but it also gives us

courage

for mission.

Isn't that

the second thing

we see?

At the end

of this chapter,

they lose the ship,

but they keep

their lives.

And so it is

for those in Christ.

Friend,

you can lose

everything,

earthly speaking,

but you won't lose

what really matters.

You won't lose

the one thing

that's truly

life to you.

In other words,

no storm

will ultimately

wreck you

because even

in death,

you won't

lose Christ,

the one who died

and rose again

so that you

might live.

And even more

than that,

don't we see here

that they lose

the ship

in order

to keep

their lives?

They have

to lose

everything

to stand

safely on shore.

In other words,

God uses

a shipwreck

for their salvation.

Jesus said

to his disciples,

if anyone

would come

after me,

let him deny

himself

and take up

his cross

and follow me.

Friends,

following God

on mission

is costly

through many

dangers,

toils,

and snares,

as the hymn

puts it.

And this journey

to Rome

in chapters 27

and 28

is emblematic

for Luke

of the fact

that taking

the gospel

to the ends

of the earth

is a dangerous

undertaking.

Don't be confused.

But the way

of the cross

is also

the way

of life.

The way

of the cross

is the way

of resurrection.

And anything

we lose

is nothing

compared

to what we gain.

The great

19th century

missionary

David Livingston

once said

to a crowd

of Cambridge

students,

for my own

part,

I've never

ceased to rejoice

that God

has appointed

me to such

an office.

People talk

of the sacrifice

I have made

in spending

so much

of my life

in Africa.

Is that a

sacrifice

which brings

its own

blessed reward

and healthful

activity

in the

consciousness

of doing

good,

peace of

mind,

and a

bright hope

of a

glorious

destiny

hereafter?

Away with

the word

in such a

view

and with

such a

thought.

It is

emphatically

no sacrifice.

Say,

rather it is

a privilege,

anxiety,

sickness,

suffering,

or danger

now and

then.

With the

foregoing

of the

common

conveniences

and charities

of this

life,

they may

make us

pause

and cause

the spirit

to waver

and the soul

to sink,

but let this

only be for

a moment.

All these

are nothing

when compared

with the glory

which shall

be revealed

in us

and for

us.

I never

made a

sacrifice.

There's

someone who

knew God's

promises,

who knew

what it

meant to

lose the

ship,

to gain

his life.

So,

friend,

if you're in

the storm

this morning,

trust God.

Hold

fast to

him and

his promises.

Hold

fast to

Jesus Christ,

the one in

whom all

God's promises

find their

yes,

find their

fulfillment.

And not

only will

God fill

you with

courage

and hope,

but he'll

make you a

fearless agent

of hope

in the

world.

Let's

pray.

Lord Jesus,

we ask

that you

would fill

us with

the confidence

and the

courage

that this

passage speaks

of.

Lord,

send your

spirit,

we pray,

to help

us see

that our

hope is

immovable,

that it

stands

fast,

that in

every storm

you are

bringing us

towards the

harbor of

your goodness,

of your

grace,

and of

your glorious

future.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.