Acts Chapter 28 – “From Shipwreck to Rome”
It opens right after the storm, after that wild chaos. The survivors, soaked, exhausted, hearts probably still pounding, crawl up the shore. Verse 1 says, “Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta.”
You can almost see them — the gray sky finally clearing, waves sighing against the sand, the cold biting through their clothes. I love that Luke adds, “The islanders showed us unusual kindness.” (v.2)
They didn’t know these people, didn’t speak their language, yet compassion spoke first. That line always warms me.
Kindness doesn’t need translation.
It says the locals built a fire and welcomed everyone because it was raining and cold. And right there, soaked and shivering, Paul starts gathering wood — the great apostle, picking up sticks like anyone else. That small image hits me. Great faith doesn’t make you above service; it makes you eager for it.
The Snake and the Superstition
Then it happens — the famous snake story.
Paul’s just doing his thing, tossing sticks onto the fire, and suddenly a viper comes out, driven by the heat, and fastens onto his hand. (v.3)
Instant reaction — panic. The locals see it and think, “Ah, this man must be a murderer; though he escaped the sea, justice has not allowed him to live.” (v.4)
They wait, expecting him to swell up and drop dead. But Paul — I love this — just shakes the snake off into the fire and keeps going. No drama. No shouting. Just faith steady as stone.
And when nothing happens to him, the people’s minds flip instantly — now they say he’s a god. (v.6) Humans, right? Swinging from one extreme to another.
But that’s not the point. The point is: God was protecting him. No poison, no storm, no scheme could kill the man carrying God’s message.
Ministry in Malta
Word spreads. The island’s chief official, a man named Publius, welcomes them and gives them hospitality for three days. (v.7)
His father’s sick — fever and dysentery — and Paul goes in, prays, lays hands on him, and heals him. (v.8)
Then everyone with diseases comes, and Paul heals them too. (v.9)
Can you picture it? The salty breeze, the laughter of children running again, the smell of food cooking as families celebrate. That little island became a sanctuary of miracles.
Paul, who just survived a shipwreck, now turning wreckage into revival.
When they were ready to leave, the islanders honored them and gave them everything they needed for the journey. (v.10)
That’s grace — what you need shows up when it’s time to move.
Sailing to Rome
After three months, winter passes, and they find another ship — from Alexandria, with the figurehead of the twin gods Castor and Pollux. (v.11)
They sail to Syracuse, stay three days, then to Rhegium, then to Puteoli. (v.12–13)
And there — one of my favorite moments — “We found some brothers and sisters who invited us to spend a week with them.” (v.14)
You can almost feel Paul’s heart lift. After so much sea and solitude, fellowship feels like sunlight.
Then — finally — “And so we came to Rome.”
That line always feels like a deep breath after years of holding it in.
Welcomed in Rome
When the believers in Rome hear he’s coming, they travel all the way to meet him at the Forum of Appius and the Three Taverns. (v.15)
When Paul sees them, he thanks God and takes courage.
That’s beautiful — even the strongest need encouragement sometimes.
And when they reach Rome, Paul’s allowed to live by himself, with a soldier guarding him. (v.16)
House arrest, but with freedom to speak. Sometimes God’s “bound” servants still move mountains with words.
Paul’s Heart for His People
Three days later, Paul calls the Jewish leaders together. Even after everything — beatings, accusations, rejection — he still reaches out first to his own people. That’s love that refuses bitterness.
He explains: “I have done nothing against our people or the customs of our ancestors, yet I was handed over to the Romans.” (v.17)
He tells them how the Jewish leaders opposed his release, and that’s why he appealed to Caesar — not to accuse his own people, but to explain his hope. (v.20)
And he says it plainly: “It is because of the hope of Israel that I am bound with this chain.”
That sentence... it’s like poetry soaked in truth.
The leaders respond kindly — they haven’t heard anything bad about him, and they’re curious about this “sect” (Christianity) that’s being talked against everywhere. (v.21–22)
The Day of Preaching
So they set a day. And when the day comes, many gather at his house.
Luke writes, “He witnessed to them from morning till evening, explaining about the kingdom of God, and from the Law of Moses and the Prophets he tried to persuade them about Jesus.” (v.23)
Imagine that — Paul, chained, yet pouring his heart out from sunrise to sunset. His voice probably rough by evening, his eyes tired but burning.
Some believe. Some don’t. (v.24)
That’s how it goes — the same truth divides hearts differently.
Paul sees it and quotes Isaiah 6 — the words about people hearing but not understanding, seeing but not perceiving. (v.26–27)
It’s not anger; it’s sorrow. He knows the message will now reach the Gentiles, and they will listen. (v.28)
It’s both an ache and a victory — the Gospel keeps moving forward, even through rejection.
The Quiet Ending
And then, just like that, Acts ends — but in a strangely peaceful way.
Luke writes: “For two whole years Paul stayed there in his own rented house and welcomed all who came to see him. He proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ—with all boldness and without hindrance.” (v.30–31)
What a line.
“With all boldness and without hindrance.”
Even chained, the word of God runs free.
Even confined, Paul’s spirit roamed wide.
It’s not a grand ending — no dramatic trial, no martyrdom here — just open doors, visitors coming and going, stories told, lives changed.
It’s almost as if Luke is saying: The story isn’t over. The Gospel keeps going.
Reflection – “The Gospel Never Stops”
Acts doesn’t close with “The End.” It closes like a doorway left open.
Paul’s still preaching. The Spirit’s still moving. The story continues — in us.
I love that. Because it reminds me that no storm, no chain, no delay can stop what God starts.
From Jerusalem to Judea, to Samaria, to the ends of the earth — it happened. And it’s still happening.
The same Spirit that carried Paul through trials now carries the church today. The same courage that stood before governors now whispers in your own heart when you’re scared to speak.
And maybe, like Paul, your “Rome” — the dream, the calling, the purpose — doesn’t come how you expected. Maybe it comes through storms, shipwrecks, kindness of strangers, and moments where you just have to keep trusting.
But it’ll come. Because God’s word doesn’t sink.
Personal Thought
Sometimes when I finish Acts, I sit quietly for a bit. I imagine Paul by that little window in Rome, sunlight spilling over his scrolls, a guard nearby half-listening as he talks about Jesus. Maybe he smiled while writing letters, maybe he sighed sometimes thinking of friends far away.
And yet, I think he felt peace. Because he made it. Not just to Rome, but into the center of God’s will.
He didn’t end his journey with comfort, but with purpose.
And that’s enough.
Maybe that’s what Acts teaches most of all — that the Spirit still writes chapters, even when we think the story’s done.
So, here’s to the Gospel that keeps going — through storms, through prisons, through people like Paul… and through people like you and me, too.
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