The South Wind's Deception and the Lord's Storm Text: Acts 27:13-20
Introduction: The Folly of Fair Weather Faith
We live in a world that is addicted to the soft south wind. Our culture is built on the sandy foundation of human optimism, the foolish notion that if our plans are sensible, if the weather is fair, and if we have attained a general consensus, then we have "attained our purpose." We are masters of our fate, we are captains of our souls. This is the great lie of secularism, and it is a lie that has crept into the church like a slow leak in the hull of a ship. We want a Christianity of soft winds, of manageable outcomes, of purposes attained by committee vote. We want a God who rubber-stamps our prudent plans.
But the God of Scripture is not a tame God who blows only when we hoist our sails. He is the God who commands the storm. He is the God who plants His footsteps in the sea and rides upon the tempest. The story of Paul's voyage to Rome is a master class in the vast and glorious chasm that separates human presumption from divine providence. It is a story designed to strip us of our self-reliance and clothe us in the stark, terrifying, and ultimately comforting reality of God's absolute sovereignty over every molecule and every moment.
The sailors on this ship were experienced men. They were not fools. They made a calculated decision based on the available evidence. The harbor was not ideal, the fast was past, and a gentle south wind seemed to be a golden opportunity. Their logic was impeccable, and their purpose was sensible. And it was this very sensibility that led them straight into the teeth of a hurricane. This is a profound lesson for us. The greatest danger to the Christian is not always the howling gale of overt persecution, but the seductive whisper of a south wind that encourages us to trust our own judgment, to rely on our own expertise, and to suppose that we have attained our purpose, apart from a radical and moment-by-moment dependence on the Word of God.
In this passage, we see the anatomy of a trial. It begins with human presumption, is followed by the overwhelming force of a sovereignly appointed storm, and it culminates in the utter abandonment of all human hope. And it is right there, at the point of utter despair, that God loves to do His most glorious work. He brings us to the end of ourselves so that we might find our beginning, our middle, and our end in Him.
The Text
And when a moderate south wind came up, thinking that they had attained their purpose, they weighed anchor and began sailing along the shore of Crete. But before very long there rushed down from the land a violent wind, called Euraquilo; and when the ship was caught in it and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and let ourselves be carried along. And running under the shelter of a small island called Clauda, we were scarcely able to get the ship’s boat under control. After they had hoisted it up, they used supporting cables in undergirding the ship. Fearing that they might run aground on the shallows of Syrtis, they let down the sea anchor and in this way let themselves be carried along. And the next day as we were being violently storm-tossed, they began to jettison the cargo; and on the third day they cast the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands. And since neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small storm was assailing us, from then on all hope of our being saved was gradually abandoned.
(Acts 27:13-20 LSB)
The Treacherous South Wind (v. 13)
The scene opens with a picture of deceptive calm and human confidence.
"And when a moderate south wind came up, thinking that they had attained their purpose, they weighed anchor and began sailing along the shore of Crete." (Acts 27:13 LSB)
Notice the foundation of their decision. It was not the word of the apostle Paul, God's messenger, who had already warned them of disaster (Acts 27:10). No, their foundation was a "moderate south wind." Their decision was based on favorable circumstances. This is the essence of worldly wisdom. It looks at the spreadsheets, checks the weather forecast, and if everything looks good, it proceeds with confidence. The problem is that the world is created and governed by a God who is not bound by weather forecasts.
Their thinking is laid bare: "thinking that they had attained their purpose." They mistook a temporary, favorable breeze for a final, accomplished goal. This is the snare of prosperity. When things are going well, when the wind is at our back, the great temptation is to believe that we are in control, that our wisdom has been vindicated. They supposed their purpose was now within their grasp. But their purpose was not God's purpose. Man proposes, but God disposes (Proverbs 16:9). They had a plan to get to a better harbor. God had a plan to get Paul to Rome, and to display His glory in the midst of a shipwreck, and to save every soul on board. God's plan required a storm.
The Sovereign Storm (v. 14-15)
The calm is shattered with shocking suddenness. The plans of men are instantly rendered irrelevant.
"But before very long there rushed down from the land a violent wind, called Euraquilo; and when the ship was caught in it and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and let ourselves be carried along." (Acts 27:14-15 LSB)
The south wind was moderate, but this wind is "violent." The Greek word is tuphonikos, from which we get our word typhoon. This was not just a bad storm; it was a hurricane-force tempest. And it has a name: Euraquilo, a northeaster. This is a personal touch, a detail that gives the account the ring of eyewitness testimony. This was not an abstract difficulty; it was a named and terrible reality.
This storm did not just rise up from the sea; it "rushed down from the land," from Crete. It was as though the very land they were hugging for safety turned on them. This is what God does in trials. He often uses the very things we trust in for security to become the source of our distress, to show us that our only true security is in Him. The storm was not a random event. Like the storm that God hurled at Jonah's ship, this tempest was a divine messenger with a divine purpose.
The response of these expert sailors is telling. They, who just moments before thought they had attained their purpose, are now utterly helpless. The ship was "caught," seized by the wind. They "could not face the wind." All their skill, all their technology, was useless. Their only option was to surrender: "we gave way to it and let ourselves be carried along." This is the first step toward true wisdom. The storm forces them to abandon the illusion of control. They are no longer sailing; they are being driven. And this is a picture of every man outside of Christ. You think you are sailing toward your chosen destination, but you are being driven by forces far beyond your control, toward a judgment you cannot escape.
The Frantic Efforts of Men (v. 16-19)
What follows is a flurry of desperate, skillful, and ultimately futile human activity.
"And running under the shelter of a small island called Clauda, we were scarcely able to get the ship’s boat under control. After they had hoisted it up, they used supporting cables in undergirding the ship. Fearing that they might run aground on the shallows of Syrtis, they let down the sea anchor and in this way let themselves be carried along. And the next day as we were being violently storm-tossed, they began to jettison the cargo; and on the third day they cast the ship’s tackle overboard with their own hands." (Acts 27:16-19 LSB)
Here we see man doing everything he can do. They find a little shelter from an island to perform emergency maneuvers. They struggle to haul in the dinghy that was being towed behind the ship. They undergird the ship, passing cables under the hull to keep the timbers from being torn apart by the violent waves. They lower the sea anchor to slow their drift, terrified of being driven onto the notorious sandbars off the coast of Africa. The next day, they throw the cargo overboard. On the third day, they throw the ship's own equipment overboard. They are sacrificing everything, first the profits, then the necessary equipment, all in a desperate bid to save their lives.
This is a picture of false repentance. When judgment comes, men are often willing to throw many things overboard. They will jettison their more obvious sins, their burdensome habits, their costly vices. They will get rid of the cargo. They might even get rid of the tackle, the very means by which they practice their trade. But they will not throw themselves overboard. They will not abandon the ship of self-righteousness. They will do everything in their power to save themselves, but they will not cry out to the only one who can save them. All their efforts are simply a way of letting themselves be "carried along," hoping to ride out the storm. But this is a storm that cannot be ridden out.
The Death of Hope (v. 20)
Finally, after days of relentless fury, the psychological breaking point is reached.
"And since neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small storm was assailing us, from then on all hope of our being saved was gradually abandoned." (Acts 27:20 LSB)
This is the climax of their terror. "Neither sun nor stars appeared for many days." In the ancient world, this was catastrophic. With no sun or stars, they had no means of navigation. They were utterly and completely lost. They did not know where they were, where they were going, or how to get there. The darkness was total, both outside and inside.
Luke's masterful understatement, "no small storm," emphasizes the relentless, crushing power of the gale. The result is the complete collapse of their morale. "All hope of our being saved was gradually abandoned." The Greek here is potent. The hope was being "cut away," stripped from them piece by piece. This is not the world's flimsy optimism, which is just wishful thinking. This was the calculated hope of professional sailors, and it was gone. They had done everything they could do, and it was not enough. They looked at the circumstances, and the only rational conclusion was death. They were doomed.
And this is precisely where God wants them. This is where He wants every one of us. He brings us into storms, He allows the sun and stars to be hidden, He strips away our own strength and our own resources, until all our self-generated, man-centered hope is utterly cut away. Why? Because biblical hope is not an extension of human optimism. Biblical hope is born in a graveyard. It begins where human hope ends. It is a hope that is based not on favorable circumstances, but on the sure and certain promises of a sovereign God.
The Gospel in the Storm
This entire episode is a living parable of God's work of salvation. Every man born into this world is born on a ship sailing under a deceptive south wind. We think we have attained our purpose. We are pursuing our own plans, confident in our own abilities, sailing along the coast of our own self-righteousness. We have rejected the Word of God that warns of the coming storm of judgment.
But God, in His mercy, does not leave us to our folly. He sends the Euraquilo. He sends the terrifying, ship-wrecking storm of the law, of conviction, of trial, of suffering. He hurls a tempest into our lives that shatters our illusion of control. The storm reveals our utter helplessness. It shows us that we cannot face the wind of God's holiness. We are caught, and we are driven.
In our panic, we try to save ourselves. We jettison the cargo of our more egregious sins. We throw overboard the tackle of our bad habits. We undergird the hull of our lives with resolutions and self-improvement projects. But the storm still rages. The darkness is absolute. And God, in His grace, brings us to the point where all hope of saving ourselves is abandoned. He brings us to the point of spiritual death.
And it is right there, in that moment of utter hopelessness, that the gospel shines. For on that ship was an apostle of Jesus Christ, a man who carried the word of God. And as we will see, it is when all human hope is lost that Paul stands up and speaks a word of divine hope: "For there will be no loss of life among you" (Acts 27:22). This is the gospel. When you are lost, when you are helpless, when you have abandoned all hope of saving yourself, God speaks a promise of salvation. It is a salvation that comes not through our frantic efforts, but through faith in His promise, a promise secured by the death and resurrection of His Son, Jesus Christ, who is the Lord of the storm and the anchor of our souls.