How Paul the Apostle rode out the storm
Jennifer Roche visits the stormy bay where St Paul faced death in a shipwreck and reflects on what the Apostle's adventure means for us
15 August 2008

Navigating the Mediterranean seas in winter is considered extremely risky as terrible storms can suddenly spring up without warning. On the days leading up to St Paul's shipwreck on Malta there were immense winter seas towering up into the dark turbulent skies, alternately lifting the ship on high then plunging it down into the churning waters with a thunderclap, quaking the ancient sailing ship known today as an Alexandrian grain-carrier in every seam and joint. All were in terror for their lives except Paul, who stood imperturbable facing the blast and spray, indomitable in his faith. As the ship was swept on ever nearer a sharp, rocky coast which fronts a wide bay with two tiny outer islands, the rocks in the darkness could seem like jaws opening before them like a huge mouth. Nevertheless, Paul remained calm.

Today the bay where he was shipwrecked is heavily populated with tourists and Maltese enjoying water sports. St Paul's bay is lined with hotels and small restaurants. Overlooking this activity stands a statue of the Apostle to the Gentiles commemorating his important work on the island.

As a transplant from New York City I marvelled at the proximity to the many sites touched by St Paul's presence while on Malta. I journeyed from Gozo (the smaller sister island) to Malta by ferry (a 25-minute voyage) where I then boarded public transport for Rabat. This town is located within a two-minute walk from the more famous Mdina, a walled-in Baroque city built by the Knights of St John, which commands an impressive view over the island. Before departing for the day's trip I recalled the pertinent facts from the Acts of the Apostles concerning St Paul's life. I knew that he was a self-described Pharisee and had been a persecutor of the fledgling Christian communities. But I was not as familiar with the events leading up to his shipwreck on Malta.

Born under the name Saul, Paul was an Israelite of the tribe of Benjamin born in Tarsus, Asia Minor, or modern-day Turkey, which made him a citizen of the Roman Empire. In the course of his life he often used his privilege as a Roman citizen to appeal against his convictions when his preaching stirred up trouble. When the Romans finally did arrest him he was scourged and imprisoned, first in Jerusalem, and then in Caesarea. After temporary confinement there he was then sent to Rome for trial. During this long sea-trip to Rome, Paul was shipwrecked on Malta, where Acts state that he converted the Maltese people to Christianity.

As I set off to St Paul's Grotto I looked out from the Gozo ferry watching the Prussian blue waters around the boat suddenly turn to white frothy foam and bubbles, then fade slowly to turquoise and then back to darker blue as we ploughed the open seas. I pondered how being out in the channel between the islands of Gozo and Malta provided the perfect opportunity to consider St Paul's voyage. At sea one may contemplate the unfathomable beauty and mystery behind creation. The Creator's distinct lines of separation between land and sea, between motionless stability and unstable motion, affirm the complexity of its design. Further, the sea voyage between this order and chaos is often used as a metaphor of life. This is true of the great classics such as Homer's Odyssey and Herman Melville's Moby Dick. As a metaphor, the sea journey as life opens up other aspects behind Paul's perilous trip besides mere narrative.

Out at sea an individual ship is easily exposed to danger. If, however, we chose to board the bark of St Peter and take the life-saving vessel of the Church, we have centuries-old wisdom to assist us on our way through life. Pride and vanity can keep us in our own little boats, but there we have more chance to be shipwrecked. In many ways we imperilled travellers on the seas of life need to listen closely to the story of St Paul's shipwreck.

When we examine more closely any text in the Bible it yields enormous interest not only in historical analysis, but also in theological contemplation. I stopped on Acts, chapter 27 to chapter 28, to consider its deeper theological import. A southerly breeze sprang up and, thinking their objective as good as reached, they weighed anchor and began to sail past Crete, close inshore. But it was not long before a hurricane, the "north-easter" as they call it, burst on them from across the island. "The ship was caught and could not keep head to wind, so we had to give way to the wind and let ourselves be driven."

This passage reflects the moments in our life when we try to force providence. We may fight against the wind but eventually it is wisdom that advises us to "give way to the wind and let ourselves be driven". When we are resigned to the divine we will find union with our God. If we do not conform to his path for us we usually find greater and despair.

The men on the foundering ship no doubt considered Paul an odd character since he had abandoned the Jewish faith and did not uphold any of their pagan gods. For these men the storm must have manifested the gods' fury: Zeus's threatening sky and Poseidon's tumultuous sea. Many of the sailors, including Julius, the centurion ordered to convey the Christian to Rome, could have concluded that their gods were already punishing Paul. Nevertheless these men must have also been perplexed and astonished by Paul's confidence and his bold declarations of how to survive the storm.

St Paul said that unless everyone stayed on board the ship that they could not hope to be saved. This poignant passage may also emphasise the necessity of remaining with Mother Church. In the turbulence of the storm he also encourages throwing excess cargo overboard. Today's reader can understand this passage as a metaphor for ridding ourselves of earthly distractions. Finally, for those who could swim, they were ordered to jump overboard first and swim to shore. And the non-swimmers made it to shore by clinging to planks or pieces of the wreckage. But the overall point is that all on board came to shore safe and sound.

Once safely on shore, the Maltese (Phoenicians by heritage) were kind, but cautious. When they witnessed a poisonous snake fasten on to Paul's hand, the natives said to one another. "This man must certainly be a murderer; though he escaped the sea, Justice has not let him remain alive." For the Maltese, who followed the earth-gods, snakes invoke Justice, known as Dike, Zeus's virgin daughter. But when Paul shook off the snake and suffered no harm they thought that he himself was a god. It is interesting that only after Paul conquered the forces of Earth and replaced them with a spiritual power did they submit to the new faith.

Reflecting on the passages from Acts before I entered the cave left deep impressions that returned to me during prayer at the grotto. I realised that today's financial and environmental crisis cause many to quickly lose sight of our spiritual crisis. There is an effort to solve mankind's woes with practical man-made solutions. The spiritual life, however, is departing from the Earth into a much less known territory on to the waters of trust and resignation.