Commentary - Acts 28:7-10

Bird's-eye view

In this brief but potent narrative, the sovereign goodness of God is put on plain display. After surviving a catastrophic shipwreck and a venomous snake, the Apostle Paul, a prisoner in chains, becomes the island's chief benefactor. This is God's ordinary way of working; He takes the most unlikely instruments in the most unfortunate circumstances and uses them to advance His kingdom and display His glory. The passage demonstrates a beautiful reciprocity of grace. Paul, having received kindness from his pagan hosts, becomes a conduit of God's healing power to them. In return, the islanders, having witnessed the power of Paul's God, bestow honors and provisions upon the apostolic company. This is a microcosm of the gospel's advance: it meets practical needs, demonstrates supernatural power, and creates a community of mutual blessing, all while the central character is technically a captive of the Roman Empire. The word of God, as we see, is not chained.

Luke, the careful historian, shows us that the gospel does not advance in a theological vacuum. It lands on real soil, among real people with real problems, like fevers and dysentery. Paul's ministry here is not one of abstract proclamation only, but of powerful demonstration. The healing of Publius's father serves as a signpost, pointing to the far greater healing from the sickness of sin that is available in Jesus Christ. The events on Malta are a testament to the fact that wherever the servants of Christ go, whether by careful planning or by shipwreck, they go as ambassadors of a King who brings healing and wholeness in His wake.

Outline

Context In Acts

This passage comes at the climax of Paul's perilous journey to Rome. The preceding narrative in chapter 27 details a two-week-long tempest that resulted in the utter destruction of the ship carrying Paul and 275 other souls. Yet, because of God's promise to Paul, not a single life was lost. Chapter 28 opens with the survivors washing ashore on the island of Malta. Immediately, Paul is bitten by a viper while building a fire, an event the locals interpret as divine justice on a murderer. But when Paul suffers no harm, their opinion swings to the opposite extreme, and they deem him a god. It is in this context, with the islanders' attention fully captured by these displays of divine preservation and power, that Paul is welcomed by the island's leading citizen. This section, therefore, is not an isolated anecdote. It is the direct result of God's providential care over His apostle, designed to create an opportunity for the gospel to be demonstrated and honored, even in a place where Paul had no intention of ever visiting. It is a powerful illustration of the book's central theme: the unstoppable, sovereign advance of the gospel from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth, even via shipwreck.

Key Issues

The Lord of the Storm and the Snake

It is essential that we connect the events of this passage to what immediately precedes them. God is telling a story here, and the plot points are all connected. The same God who ruled the storm (Acts 27) and who governed the fangs of the snake (Acts 28:3-6) is the God who now directs Paul into the home of the highest official on the island. This is not a series of fortunate coincidences. This is the calculated, orchestrated, and sovereign plan of Almighty God. He who commands the winds and the waves also commands fevers and dysentery. He who protects his servant from a viper's venom can certainly expel a sickness from a man's body.

The world sees chaos; the Christian sees choreography. The world sees a lucky break; the believer sees the steadfast love of the Lord. Paul's authority on this island did not come from his Roman captors, and it certainly didn't come from his status as a shipwrecked prisoner. His authority came from the God who had just demonstrated His absolute lordship over creation in two spectacular ways. The healing of Publius's father was not, therefore, an isolated magic trick. It was the third act in a divine drama intended to show everyone on Malta, from the common islander to the chief official, that the God of this Jewish prisoner was the one true God who holds all things, from tempests to vipers to fevers, in the palm of His hand.

Verse by Verse Commentary

7 Now in the areas around that place were lands belonging to the leading man of the island, named Publius, who welcomed us and entertained us courteously three days.

After the drama on the beach, we see the practical outworking of God's favor. Publius is described as the "leading man," likely the Roman governor of Malta. He doesn't treat the shipwrecked party as a burden but as guests. He takes them in, not just Paul and his companions, but the whole group ("us"), and provides for them for three days. This is remarkable hospitality. It is also a direct fulfillment of what Christian hospitality ought to be, welcoming strangers (Heb. 13:2). Publius, a pagan official, is putting many Christians to shame. But more than that, God is moving in the heart of this powerful man to provide for His people. The Lord can make a table for His servants in the most unlikely of places, whether in the wilderness or on a Roman official's estate.

8 And it happened that the father of Publius was lying afflicted with fever and dysentery; and Paul, going to see him and having prayed, laid his hands on him and healed him.

Here we see the principle of reciprocity, but on a divine level. Publius showed kindness to God's servant, and now God, through that servant, shows kindness to Publius's family. Notice the details. The man's illness is specified, recurrent fevers and dysentery, a condition that was often fatal. This was not a minor ailment. And notice Paul's method. He doesn't simply issue a command. He first goes to the man, demonstrating personal care. Then he prays, showing his utter dependence on God. Only then does he lay his hands on him, the physical sign of the transference of God's healing power. The healing is immediate and complete. This is not the work of Paul the magician, but of God the Healer, responding to the faith-filled prayer of His apostle. This miracle serves as the payment, with interest, for the hospitality Publius had shown.

9 And after this had happened, the rest of the people on the island who had diseases were coming to him and being healed.

Good news travels fast, especially news of this sort. The healing of a prominent man's father becomes the talk of the island. What follows is a miniature revival of healing. The text says "the rest of the people" with diseases came, which indicates a great number. And they "were being healed," the verb tense suggesting a continuous, ongoing ministry during their stay. Paul, the prisoner, has become the island's physician. This is a picture of the gospel's effect. It begins with one dramatic work of grace, which then opens the door for a flood of blessing to pour out upon the whole community. God's grace is not a trickle; it is a torrent.

10 They also bestowed on us many honors of respect; and when we were setting sail, they supplied us with all we needed.

The passage concludes with the islanders' response. Their gratitude was not just verbal; it was tangible. First, they bestowed "many honors." This was a public recognition of the source of the blessing. They understood that something extraordinary had happened through these men. Second, when it was time for Paul's group to leave, the islanders didn't just wave goodbye. They loaded them up with provisions for their journey. They "supplied us with all we needed." This is the beautiful fruit of demonstrated grace. The gospel had come to them not as a burden, but as a blessing, and their natural, joyful response was to bless the messengers in return. This is how the church is to function, and how it is to be supported, not through coercion or guilt, but as a grateful response to the grace of God ministered in power.

Application

There are several sharp points of application for us in this passage. First, we must cultivate a robust confidence in the detailed sovereignty of God. Paul's arrival in Malta was the result of a disaster, but it was no accident. God will use storms, shipwrecks, and snakebites in our lives to place us exactly where He wants us for the advance of His kingdom. We must learn to see His purpose not just in the pleasant times, but in the calamities.

Second, we see the strategic importance of hospitality. Publius opened his home to strangers, and as a result, his entire family and indeed his entire island were blessed. Our homes should be outposts of the kingdom, places where we welcome both believers and unbelievers. We often have no idea what divine appointments God has arranged, which will only come to pass if we are willing to open our doors. Hospitality is not about entertaining; it is about ministry. It is about creating a space where the grace of God can be made manifest.

Lastly, this passage challenges us to be a people who minister in both word and deed. Paul didn't just bring a sermon; he brought healing. Our gospel must have hands and feet. We are called to meet the tangible needs of those around us, the sick, the poor, the lonely. While the apostolic gift of healing may not function in the same way today, the God who heals is still our God. We should pray for the sick, expecting God to act. And as we minister to people's physical needs, we earn the right to speak to them about their ultimate spiritual need, reconciliation with God through the Lord Jesus Christ, who came to heal us from the fatal disease of sin.