Vipers, Barbarians, and Sovereign Kindness Text: Acts 28:1-6
Introduction: Providence Has an Address
We are often tempted to think of God's providence in vague and general terms. We believe He is in control of the big picture, the grand sweep of history, but we suspect the details are left to sort themselves out. The story of Paul's shipwreck and subsequent landing on Malta is a potent antidote to this kind of thinking. God's providence is not a blurry watercolor; it is a high-resolution photograph. Every detail is sharp, intentional, and meaningful.
Paul and 275 other men have just survived a storm of almost unimaginable fury. They were driven for fourteen days by a tempest, having given up all hope of being saved. The ship was a total loss, broken to pieces by the surf. And yet, not one life was lost, exactly as God had promised Paul through an angel. Their deliverance was not luck. It was a meticulously executed divine rescue. But the rescue did not deliver them to a five-star resort. It delivered them, soaked and freezing, to an island of strangers, and straight into the path of another, more ancient, enemy.
This passage is a microcosm of the Christian life. We are brought through the great storms of conversion and deliverance, only to find that the shoreline is not heaven. The shoreline has its own challenges. There are cold rains, and there are vipers in the firewood. But we also find that God's providence has prepared for us unexpected kindnesses and opportunities for witness. This is not a story of bad luck followed by good luck. It is a story of the unwavering, sovereign purpose of God, who works all things, the storm, the shipwreck, the barbarians, and the snake, for the good of His people and the advancement of His kingdom.
The Text
And when they had been brought safely through to shore, then we learned that the island was called Malta. And the natives showed us extraordinary affection; for because of the rain that had set in and because of the cold, they kindled a fire and received us all. But when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks and laid them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat and fastened itself on his hand. And when the natives saw the creature hanging from his hand, they began saying to one another, “Undoubtedly this man is a murderer, and though he has been saved from the sea, Justice has not allowed him to live.” However he shook the creature off into the fire and suffered no harm. But they were waiting for him to soon swell up or suddenly fall down dead. But after they had waited a long time and had seen nothing unusual happen to him, changing their minds, they began to say that he was a god.
(Acts 28:1-6 LSB)
The Kindness of Strangers (v. 1-2)
The first thing we encounter on the shore is the surprising hospitality of the locals.
"And when they had been brought safely through to shore, then we learned that the island was called Malta. And the natives showed us extraordinary affection; for because of the rain that had set in and because of the cold, they kindled a fire and received us all." (Acts 28:1-2)
Notice the passive voice: "they had been brought safely through." They did not save themselves. They were saved, they were delivered by the hand of God. And where did they land? Not on some uncharted rock, but on Malta. Providence has an address. God's plan is never vague.
The locals are described as "natives," or barbarians. This simply meant they were non-Greek speakers. But these "barbarians" showed them "extraordinary affection." The Greek is philanthropia, a love for mankind. This is a stunning rebuke to the religious and "civilized" Jews who had been hunting Paul across the known world. God can raise up more genuine kindness from pagan islanders than from the high courts of the covenant people. This is the doctrine of common grace in action. God restrains the sinfulness of fallen men and enables them to do good for their neighbors, even for shipwrecked strangers. He moved in the hearts of these Maltese people to provide for the needs of His apostle. They saw a need, cold and rain, and they met it with a practical solution, fire and welcome. This is tangible love, not just a sentimental feeling.
The Servant and the Serpent (v. 3)
In the midst of this warm reception, a hidden danger emerges.
"But when Paul had gathered a bundle of sticks and laid them on the fire, a viper came out because of the heat and fastened itself on his hand." (Acts 28:3 LSB)
First, take note of the apostle. Paul is not standing off to the side, demanding to be served because of his apostolic office or his recent heroics on the ship. He is gathering firewood. He is a servant. This is what true spiritual authority looks like. It is not pompous or demanding; it is humble and hardworking. He is meeting the same need he has, for the good of everyone.
And as he serves, the serpent strikes. The fire, a symbol of comfort, warmth, and purification, drives the viper out of its hiding place. This is a spiritual principle. When the warmth of the gospel begins to spread, when the fire of revival is kindled, you can be sure that the snakes will come out of the woodwork. The enemy, that ancient serpent, the devil, hates the fire. He hates the light and warmth of Christian community and service. And so he attacks the one who is tending the fire.
The viper "fastened itself on his hand." This is an image of a determined, deadly assault. It is not a glancing blow. This is the enemy sinking his fangs in, attempting to inject his venom and bring death.
Barbarian Theology (v. 4)
The natives see this and immediately jump to a theological conclusion.
"And when the natives saw the creature hanging from his hand, they began saying to one another, 'Undoubtedly this man is a murderer, and though he has been saved from the sea, Justice has not allowed him to live.'" (Acts 28:4 LSB)
This is natural theology. It is the religion of karma. These men have a sense of justice, which they personify as a goddess, Dike. They see a terrible event, a venomous snakebite, and reason backward to a terrible cause: this man must be a murderer. Their premise is not entirely wrong; they understand that sin deserves punishment. This is the law written on their hearts. But their application is completely wrong. They are interpreting providence without revelation. They see the "what" but completely misunderstand the "why."
All false religion operates this way. It tries to make sense of the world based on circumstances. If things are going well, I must be a good person. If things are going badly, I must have done something to anger the gods, or karma, or the universe. It is a system of works-righteousness, and it is always a terrible interpreter of reality.
Shaking Off the Enemy (v. 5-6)
Paul's response is simple, powerful, and deeply instructive.
"However he shook the creature off into the fire and suffered no harm. But they were waiting for him to soon swell up or suddenly fall down dead. But after they had waited a long time and had seen nothing unusual happen to him, changing their minds, they began to say that he was a god." (Acts 28:5-6 LSB)
Paul simply "shook the creature off into the fire." There is no panic, no dramatic prayer, no frantic effort. It is a gesture of dismissal. This is a living demonstration of the promise Jesus gave His disciples in the Great Commission. "They will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them" (Mark 16:18). It is a picture of the believer's authority over the power of the enemy. The serpent, a living symbol of Satan and his curse, is tossed into the fire, a living symbol of judgment. This is the gospel in miniature. The seed of the woman crushes the serpent's head.
The natives, still operating on their faulty theology, now have a problem. Their cause-and-effect system is broken. They wait for the expected outcome: swelling and sudden death. But nothing happens. So what do they do? They don't abandon their flawed system; they just reverse their conclusion. "Changing their minds, they began to say that he was a god."
In the space of a few minutes, Paul goes from being a murderer to being a deity. This reveals the utter fickleness of worldly opinion. The world's condemnation and its adoration are both worthless, because both are based on a faulty, man-centered reading of circumstances. One minute they want to stone you, the next they want to worship you. A Christian who lives for the approval of this world is a man building his house on a weather vane.
Conclusion: The Point of the Miracle
So what is the point of all this? Is it just to show that Paul is a superhero? Not at all. The point of the miracle is to get a hearing for the message. God delivered Paul from the sea and from the serpent to validate him as a messenger of the one true God.
This event opened the door for the gospel on Malta. The following verses tell us that Paul was then welcomed by the chief man of the island, whose father he healed in the name of Jesus. This led to all the sick on the island coming to him and being healed. God used the storm and the snake to turn a shipwreck into a missions trip.
We must learn to see the world this way. Your trials, your shipwrecks, your unexpected snakebites are not random acts of a chaotic universe. They are sovereignly orchestrated opportunities. When the serpent of slander, or accusation, or temptation, or tragedy fastens itself to your hand, you are not to despair. You are in Christ, and the venom of the evil one has no ultimate power over you. By faith, you can shake it off into the fire.
And when God delivers you, do not be surprised if the world misunderstands. They will swing from condemnation to flattery. Ignore both. The point of your deliverance is not to make much of you, but to create a platform from which you can make much of Jesus Christ. God saves us from the surf and the serpent so that we might be His witnesses, right where we are, on whatever island His providence has washed us ashore.