The Acts of The Holy Spirit Through –

The Snake Bite (Acts 28: 1-10)

Sunday, August 4, 2019

            The next day we went searching for Paul in Malta. “Paul shipwrecked here,” the priest in St. Paul’s Shipwreck Church in Valleta, Malta, explained with great pride when we visited the church. “This is Paul’s island. Look, here we have a bone from St. Paul’s wrist, and over there is the pillar from Rome on which Paul was beheaded.”

            Indeed, in an ornate case, with the official papal seal of authenticity, was a bone, and in another case atop a small stone pillar, a very dead silver head rested. Some may dispute whether the island on which Paul shipwrecked was actually Malta, but for the Maltese, there is no question. Pawl was here!

            Leaving Valleta we drove out to the town of Rabat where, the Maltese claim, Paul spent the three months between the shipwreck in November and when he continued the voyage on toward Rome in February.

            “We are very proud of St. Paul,” the sextant at St. Paul’s Grotto in Rabat declared as he showed us the cave where Paul allegedly lived. “He is the father of our faith.” The sextant invited us to stay in Rabat, for on that very evening the annual, week-long festival of St. Paul was beginning. We had noticed an atmosphere of celebration in the decorated streets of Rabat. In addition to the statues, street names, and even small businesses that bore names in honor of Paul, we observed additional gaudy statues of saints and apostles. We decided to stay and the evening was amazing. Fireworks exploded as eight strong men carried an ornate statue of Paul on their shoulders to the main doorway of the cathedral. Confetti supplied by Radju Pawlin (Radio Paul, a local Rabat FM radio station) showered down from the roof. The bells clanged from the cathedral tower. The brass band in the plaza in front of the cathedral struck up a tune and the clapping crowd joined in singing lustily. As for Paul, he stood silently amid the raucous, spontaneous, adoring crowds, stone hand raised triumphantly above the sculpted fire into which he had shaken a small stone snake.

            A year earlier I would not have been moved by this display of devotion. I would likely have dismissed it as misplaced religious enthusiasm. But after having followed Paul this far around the Mediterranean, I was startled to discover that I shared the enthusiasm of these descendants of the friendly “barbarians” who cared for Paul on the night of his shipwreck 1,945 years ago.

            “I love Paul,” one of the T-shirted youth volunteers explained when I asked him why he was helping with the festival. Having followed Paul to Malta, we understood and bought Paul T-shirts, too.

            We sailed out of Valleta on Apostles’ Day, a national holiday honoring Peter and Paul. The anchorage in St. Paul’s Bay was crowded with Maltese boaters frolicking in the water under the gaze of a gigantic statue of St. Paul. Byron and I inflated the dinghy, motored to the island, and inspected St. Paul close up. Paul had spent three months on Malta, waiting for spring and sailing weather. While the story in Acts does not indicate exactly how he kept himself occupied, according to the traditions of the Maltese, Paul accomplished incredible feats while there, including the miraculous preaching to everyone on Malta and the nearby island of Gozo from a single location in Rabat.

Linford Stutzman, Sailing Acts, p. 196f (2006 (2004, 2005)

 

 

 

The Acts of The Holy Spirit Through –

The Snake Bite (Acts 28: 1-10)

Sunday, August 4, 2019

            The next day we went searching for Paul in Malta. “Paul shipwrecked here,” the priest in St. Paul’s Shipwreck Church in Valleta, Malta, explained with great pride when we visited the church. “This is Paul’s island. Look, here we have a bone from St. Paul’s wrist, and over there is the pillar from Rome on which Paul was beheaded.”

            Indeed, in an ornate case, with the official papal seal of authenticity, was a bone, and in another case atop a small stone pillar, a very dead silver head rested. Some may dispute whether the island on which Paul shipwrecked was actually Malta, but for the Maltese, there is no question. Pawl was here!

            Leaving Valleta we drove out to the town of Rabat where, the Maltese claim, Paul spent the three months between the shipwreck in November and when he continued the voyage on toward Rome in February.

            “We are very proud of St. Paul,” the sextant at St. Paul’s Grotto in Rabat declared as he showed us the cave where Paul allegedly lived. “He is the father of our faith.” The sextant invited us to stay in Rabat, for on that very evening the annual, week-long festival of St. Paul was beginning. We had noticed an atmosphere of celebration in the decorated streets of Rabat. In addition to the statues, street names, and even small businesses that bore names in honor of Paul, we observed additional gaudy statues of saints and apostles. We decided to stay and the evening was amazing. Fireworks exploded as eight strong men carried an ornate statue of Paul on their shoulders to the main doorway of the cathedral. Confetti supplied by Radju Pawlin (Radio Paul, a local Rabat FM radio station) showered down from the roof. The bells clanged from the cathedral tower. The brass band in the plaza in front of the cathedral struck up a tune and the clapping crowd joined in singing lustily. As for Paul, he stood silently amid the raucous, spontaneous, adoring crowds, stone hand raised triumphantly above the sculpted fire into which he had shaken a small stone snake.

            A year earlier I would not have been moved by this display of devotion. I would likely have dismissed it as misplaced religious enthusiasm. But after having followed Paul this far around the Mediterranean, I was startled to discover that I shared the enthusiasm of these descendants of the friendly “barbarians” who cared for Paul on the night of his shipwreck 1,945 years ago.

            “I love Paul,” one of the T-shirted youth volunteers explained when I asked him why he was helping with the festival. Having followed Paul to Malta, we understood and bought Paul T-shirts, too.

            We sailed out of Valleta on Apostles’ Day, a national holiday honoring Peter and Paul. The anchorage in St. Paul’s Bay was crowded with Maltese boaters frolicking in the water under the gaze of a gigantic statue of St. Paul. Byron and I inflated the dinghy, motored to the island, and inspected St. Paul close up. Paul had spent three months on Malta, waiting for spring and sailing weather. While the story in Acts does not indicate exactly how he kept himself occupied, according to the traditions of the Maltese, Paul accomplished incredible feats while there, including the miraculous preaching to everyone on Malta and the nearby island of Gozo from a single location in Rabat.

Linford Stutzman, Sailing Acts, p. 196f (2006 (2004, 2005)

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