Fitted for Sea
Acts 27:27-29
But when the fourteenth night was come, as we were driven up and down in Adria…


In the town of Landport there stands a monument of Sir Charles Napier, the particular feature of which is, that it says nothing whatever of the admiral, but bears underneath his name the simple inscription, "READY, AYE READY." This exactly portrays the character of the man. The sailor became admiral through being always prepared. Be like him. Though these men would not heed Paul, they were not careless men; for when the danger came it found them prepared. "They cast four anchors out of the stern." "Be ye also ready!" See to your anchors, because, as with the sailor —

I. THE ANCHOR WILL BE YOUR PREPARATION FOR THE STORM. When a ship is leaving the docks, little heed is given by the landsman to any preparation which has been made for emergencies. As long as she is nicely painted and well dressed out with bunting, she is admired by the crowd, and pronounced "ready for sea." You can never judge of a ship by merely outward appearances, and so men cannot be known by that which is merely external. The casual observer sees as much religion in the formalist as he does in the most sincere worshipper. Because Eliab was a fine handsome fellow, Samuel thought he was the man whom God bad chosen to be a king. "But the Lord said, Look not on his countenance...the Lord looketh on the heart." How about your heart? To me you all appear alike. Together you bow in the attitude of prayer. Like the ships leaving the docks for the voyage, I see you all drifting down the river to the ocean. Are you ready for the dangers that will come? God knows, and you know. In what do you trust? "Christ in you, the hope of glory," alone can be your sheet anchor when trials come. There is as much difference between a man who is "without hope," and one who has "a good hope through grace," as there is between a ship that has no anchor, and one that is well provided. When the storm comes, the one has no alternative but to be dashed to pieces on the rocks, while the other can cast her anchors and hopefully wait for the day.

II. THE ANCHOR SHOULD BE THE OBJECT OF YOUR SOLICITUDE IN THE STORM. With many of us the storms are already felt. We are driven up and down on life's Adria, and sometimes "wishing for the day." Like the sailor, let us stand by our anchors. Take care of your hope! These men were ready to cast everything into the sea; all might go; but the anchors, heavy and cumbrous as they were, they must be guarded as dear life. The extremity to which they were driven may he gathered from the fact that even the "tackling," the very thing which would be needed for the working of the ship, was cast into the sea. What will men not do to save their lives? "Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life." But though these men gave up so much, their anchors were retained. A landsman, knowing nothing about the use of anchors, would have been puzzled to know why those ugly, heavy things were spared, when all that merchandise was being thrown into the sea. Does somebody question whether such a fool could be found? I submit that, spiritually, this is ever the way of the world. Let men be placed in a position which demands the giving up either of their bales or of their Bible, and there are thousands who would be ready to counsel the throwing overboard of the anchor and the saving of the goods. Christian, take care of your hope! How can you proceed on the voyage of life without it? If today you are "without hope," let me entreat you, at once search for your lost treasure. As we were cruising in the Solent, we noticed a large ship "lying to," with two or three boats "dragging" around her. Being curious to know what hindered her, we found that she had let her cable slip and had lost her anchor. Of course the captain could not think of going to sea without his anchor. Not long after, however, before the shades of evening had gathered around her, we saw that the anchor had been found, that all sail was being crowded upon the vessel, and, as though glad to be gone, she was running away before the breeze. Hopeless Christian, imitate that shipmaster. Regain your hope. Do you ask how? — where? Drag for it. Go to the place where it was lost. Remember where the mistake was made which cost you your peace. At any cost recover your hope. You may have to cast your wares into the sea your money, your friends; but if your anchor is safe, even though "all his waves and his billows" should go over you, like David in similar distress, you will be able to exclaim, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul?...Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God."

III. THE ANCHOR WILL BE THE SOURCE OF YOUR CONFIDENCE THROUGH THE STORM. Christian and Hopeful suffered much in Doubting Castle simply through forgetfulness. The key which was found in Hopeful's bosom would have let them out the first night as well as the last. When the emergency came, these men knew how to use their anchors. Whether they felt quite easy is open to doubt. A sailor, to feel happy, requires to know —

1. That his anchor itself is trustworthy.

2. That the anchorage into which he has cast it is good. A good anchor is useless with a bad ground, and a good ground is equally useless with a bad anchor. Now, these men doubtless knew their anchors well, but they were ignorant of the anchorage to which they were moored. It is possible, as in this case, to have good anchors and anchorage, and yet, through ignorance, to be all the time in suspense; and it is equally possible, as many have proved to their destruction, to have a false confidence in that which is bad. Sailors have often ridden out a gale, expecting every moment to find their anchor "gone"; while others have been suddenly alarmed to find that very anchor upon which they could have staked their lives has "come home." And so in the religious world, there are many who have a "good hope," but who fear it is bad; while there are also many who have a useless hope, and who believe it to be good. The whole question is set before us in the words of Paul, "Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil." Have we this anchor and this anchorage? Or are we ever saying, "I know what I do," or "what I feel," or "what I try to be? Legality, Formality, and Experience" have been the ruin of millions. As anchors they have been tried, and they have utterly failed. What, then, is the "hope" which "maketh not ashamed"? It is the fruit of faith in Christ. Talk to any ordinary man, and he will tell you that he hopes to get to heaven; but if you ask him to give you "a reason for the hope" that he indulges, he will be totally unable to supply one. Our wishes are not hopes. For a ploughman to say that he hoped one day to be the King of England would be absurd and false; but for the heir-apparent, who had reason to expect, as well as to desire, the exalted position, the expression would be justifiable. Then don't say you hope to get to heaven unless you have good reason to expect it. Don't pillow your soul on a lie. A bad hope is infinitely worse than none at all. As long as men have something they can call a hope, they do not concern themselves about the "good hope through grace."

IV. THE ANCHOR WILL BE THE MEANS OF YOUR DELIVERANCE FROM THE STORM. But for their good anchors, humanly speaking, they would never have seen the day for which they wished. So, Christian, if your anchor is good, it will be the means of your deliverance. Storms of afflictions will come, but, by "a good hope," you shall be held until the calm of blessing shall succeed. In the Rapids of Death, when your vessel is altogether beyond your control, and you seem to be thrown about by the troubled waters, even then Hope shall find that the anchorage is good, and you shall outride the danger.

(W. H. Burton.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: But when the fourteenth night was come, as we were driven up and down in Adria, about midnight the shipmen deemed that they drew near to some country;

WEB: But when the fourteenth night had come, as we were driven back and forth in the Adriatic Sea, about midnight the sailors surmised that they were drawing near to some land.




A Sermon to Sailors
Top of Page
Top of Page