← Chapter 27 Chapter 28 of 28
Chapter 28

On the Island of Malta

1 Once we had been brought safely through, we then learned that the island was called Malta.

2 The native people showed us extraordinary kindness, for they kindled a fire and welcomed us all, because of the rain that had set in and because of the cold.

3 Now 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.

4 When the native people 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.”

5 However, he shook the creature off into the fire and suffered no harm.

6 Now they were expecting him to swell up or suddenly fall down dead. But after they had waited a long time and saw nothing unusual happen to him, they changed their minds and began saying that he was a god.

Translator’s Notes — vv. 1–6:
Μελίτη (Melitē) — v.1: Malta — the identification is secure and has never been seriously disputed. The island lies exactly where the drift calculations from chapter 27 predict, roughly 60 miles south of Sicily. Malta was a Roman possession, part of the province of Sicily, with a mixed population descended from Phoenician colonists. The name may derive from a Phoenician word meaning “refuge” or “shelter” — an apt name for shipwreck survivors.
οἱ βάρβαροι (hoi barbaroi) — v.2: “The native people” — Luke uses the word βάρβαροι (barbaroi), which in Greek did not mean “savages” or “uncivilized” but simply “non-Greek speakers.” The Maltese spoke a Punic (Phoenician) dialect. Luke’s description of them is entirely positive: they show “extraordinary kindness” (οὐ τὴν τυχοῦσαν φιλανθρωπίαν, literally “not ordinary love-of-humanity” — another litotes). They light a fire for 276 cold, wet, terrified strangers. The first thing these “barbarians” do is show a humanity that outshines anything the Roman legal system has managed in the previous seven chapters.
v.3: The viper scene is vivid and almost comic in its narrative rhythm. Paul, the man who has survived a mob, a conspiracy, a two-year imprisonment, a hurricane, and a shipwreck, is now bitten by a snake while gathering firewood. Luke’s storytelling instinct is perfect: after the epic scale of the sea voyage, the danger is suddenly small, domestic, and absurd. A naturalist’s objection has sometimes been raised: there are no venomous vipers on Malta today. Possible explanations include local extinction since antiquity (the island was much more forested 2,000 years ago), or the word ἔχιδνα (echidna, “viper”) being used loosely for any snake. The islanders’ reaction (expecting death) suggests they recognized it as dangerous.
πάντως φονεύς ἐστιν (pantōs phoneus estin) — v.4: “Undoubtedly this man is a murderer” — the islanders operate with a theology of immediate divine retribution: the sea spared him, but η Δίκη (hē Dikē, “Justice” — personified as a goddess) has caught up with him through the snake. This is popular pagan theology: suffering is punishment for hidden guilt. The same logic appears in the book of Job and in John 9:2 (“Who sinned, this man or his parents?”). Luke records their reasoning without mocking it.
v.6: The islanders’ theological reversal is instant and total: from “he’s a murderer” to “he’s a god” in the space of a few minutes. The same reaction happened at Lystra (Acts 14:11–18), where Paul and Barnabas were proclaimed to be Hermes and Zeus. Luke is showing a pattern: pagan popular religion oscillates between extremes — divine punishment or divine identity, with no middle ground. The possibility that Paul is simply an ordinary man protected by an extraordinary God is not in their categories. Paul does not correct them here (unlike at Lystra, where he tore his clothes in protest). Perhaps the language barrier made explanation impractical, or perhaps Luke simply moves on.

Paul Heals on Malta

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

8 And it happened that the father of Publius was lying in bed sick with fever and dysentery. Paul went in to him, and after praying, he laid his hands on him and healed him.

9 After this had happened, the rest of the people on the island who had diseases were also coming and being healed.

10 They also honored us with many marks of respect, and when we were setting sail, they supplied us with everything we needed.

Translator’s Notes — vv. 7–10:
τῷ πρώτῳ τῆς νήσου (tō prōtō tēs nēsou) — v.7: “The leading man of the island” — the title πρῶτος (“first man”) has been confirmed by inscriptions found on Malta. Both Latin (primus) and Greek (prōtos) inscriptions from the island use this exact title for the chief Roman official. Luke is using the precise, correct local title — another example of his consistent accuracy with administrative terminology. Publius is a Roman praenomen (first name), appropriate for a Roman official on a Roman-administered island.
πυρετοῖς καὶ δυσεντερίῳ (pyretois kai dysenteriō) — v.8: “Fever and dysentery” — Luke’s medical specificity has been noted. He uses the precise plural πυρετοῖς (pyretois, “recurrent fevers” or “febrile attacks”) and the clinical term δυσεντερίῳ (dysenteriō), which in ancient medical usage indicated a specific intestinal condition. Malta was known for a parasitic infection transmitted by a microorganism in goat’s milk, which produced exactly this combination of symptoms. Whether or not Luke’s medical background explains the precision, the description is clinically accurate.
v.8: The healing follows the pattern established by Jesus and continued by the apostles: prayer, laying on of hands, and physical restoration. Paul’s ministry on Malta recapitulates in miniature the healing ministry described throughout Acts. The shipwrecked prisoner, stripped of everything, with no legal standing and no resources, still carries the one thing that matters: the ability to mediate God’s healing power.
v.9: The healings spread beyond Publius’s household to the whole island. Luke’s summary is compressed but suggests an extended ministry of healing during the three-month winter stay. The result (v.10) is that the islanders shower Paul’s group with gifts and provisions for their continuing voyage. The dynamics are beautiful: the shipwreck survivors arrive as destitute refugees, and they leave honored and supplied, because the prisoner in their midst healed the island.
τιμαῖς (timais) — v.10: “Many marks of respect” — the word τιμή (timē) can mean “honor,” “price,” or “remuneration.” Some translations render this as “gifts” or “honoraria,” suggesting the islanders paid for the healings. But the word is broader than payment; it encompasses all forms of honor and generosity. The Maltese send them off equipped for the next leg of the journey — a practical demonstration of gratitude that contrasts sharply with the indifference of the Roman legal system.

The Journey to Rome

11 After three months we set sail on an Alexandrian ship that had wintered at the island, which had the Twin Brothers as its figurehead.

12 And putting in at Syracuse, we stayed there for three days.

13 From there we sailed around and arrived at Rhegium, and a day later a south wind sprang up, and on the second day we came to Puteoli.

14 There we found brothers and were invited to stay with them for seven days. And so we came to Rome.

15 And the brothers there, when they heard about us, came as far as the Forum of Appius and Three Taverns to meet us. When Paul saw them, he thanked God and took courage.

16 And when we entered Rome, Paul was allowed to stay by himself, with the soldier who was guarding him.

Translator’s Notes — vv. 11–16:
Διοσκούροις (Dioskourois) — v.11: The “Twin Brothers” — Castor and Pollux (Διόσκουροι, the Dioscuri), sons of Zeus in Greek mythology, were the patron deities of sailors. Their images on the ship’s prow were believed to bring safe passage. The irony is quiet but unmistakable: Paul, whose God has just saved 276 lives through an actual hurricane, now sails under the figurehead of pagan gods of the sea. Luke notes the detail without comment, but for his readers the contrast is clear. Three months waiting on Malta would have placed the departure in early February — still technically before the safe sailing season, but Alexandrian grain ships were large enough to risk early-season crossings.
v.12: Syracuse, on the east coast of Sicily, was one of the great cities of the ancient world. A three-day stop suggests either waiting for favorable winds or mandatory port inspections. From Syracuse they sailed north through the Strait of Messina to Rhegium (modern Reggio Calabria, on the toe of Italy), then caught a south wind up the coast to Puteoli (modern Pozzuoli, in the Bay of Naples). Puteoli was the principal port for the Alexandrian grain fleet and the main entry point for goods (and people) arriving from the eastern Mediterranean. It was about 150 miles south of Rome.
v.14: The presence of a Christian community at Puteoli is significant but not surprising. As a major port city, it would have encountered the Christian message early through commercial and travel networks. Julius apparently grants a seven-day stay — another remarkable concession to a prisoner, suggesting that the centurion’s trust in Paul has only deepened. The final clause — “And so we came to Rome” (καὶ οὕτως εἰς τὴν ῾Ρώμην ἢλθαμεν) — is one of the most understated and momentous sentences in the New Testament. After 28 chapters, from Jerusalem to Rome, the destination is reached. Luke reports it with five simple words.
v.15: The Forum of Appius (Appii Forum) was a market town about 43 miles south of Rome on the Appian Way; Three Taverns (Tres Tabernae) was a rest stop about 33 miles south. Roman Christians walked a full day or more to meet Paul on the road. This is an ancient version of a welcoming delegation, and the fact that believers came in two groups at two different distances suggests a sizeable and organized Christian community already in Rome. Paul had written his letter to the Romans from Corinth (around AD 57), so the church there knew him by reputation and letter. Now they meet him in person — and he arrives in chains.
εὐχαριστήσας τῷ θεῷ ἔλαβε θάρσος (eucharistēsas tō theō elabe tharsos) — v.15: “He thanked God and took courage” — this is one of the most emotionally revealing moments about Paul in all of Acts. After years of imprisonment, trials, a shipwreck, and a snake bite, the sight of fellow believers walking toward him on a Roman road gives him courage. The word θάρσος (tharsos, “courage”) is the same root as the command Jesus gave Paul in the night vision: θάρσει (“take courage,” 23:11). The Lord commanded it; the believers embody it. Paul needed this. The great apostle needed encouragement, and he received it not through a vision but through the physical presence of people who walked 43 miles to stand with him.
v.16: Paul’s arrangement in Rome is custodia militaris — house arrest under the guard of a single soldier, to whom he was likely chained by the wrist. This was the most lenient form of Roman detention, consistent with his status as a citizen who had appealed to Caesar and against whom no capital charge had been substantiated. He could receive visitors, teach, and correspond freely. The phrase “by himself” (καθ’ ἑαυτόν) indicates he had his own rented quarters (confirmed in v.30), not a prison cell.

Paul Meets the Jewish Leaders in Rome

17 And it happened that after three days he called together those who were the leading men among the Jews. And when they had assembled, he said to them, “Brothers, though I had done nothing against our people or the customs of our fathers, I was delivered as a prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans.

18 And when they had examined me, they were willing to release me because there was no ground for a death sentence in my case.

19 But when the Jews objected, I was forced to appeal to Caesar — not that I had any charge to bring against my own nation.

20 For this reason, therefore, I asked to see you and speak with you, for it is because of the hope of Israel that I am wearing this chain.”

21 And they said to him, “We have received no letters from Judea about you, nor has any of the brothers come here and reported or spoken anything bad about you.

22 But we desire to hear from you what you think, for regarding this sect, it is known to us that it is spoken against everywhere.”

Translator’s Notes — vv. 17–22:
v.17: Paul’s initiative is remarkable: a prisoner under house arrest, he calls together the Jewish leaders. He does not wait to be summoned; he convenes a meeting. The pattern of Acts is maintained to the very end: Paul goes to the Jews first. Even in Rome, even in chains, the mission protocol holds.
v.19: Paul is careful to say he has no counter-charge against his own nation. He appealed to Caesar not out of hostility toward the Jewish people but out of necessity. The diplomacy is deliberate: he is meeting Roman Jews for the first time, and he needs them to know he is not an enemy of his own people. The phrase “my nation” (τοῦ ἔθνους μου) is warm, possessive — these are my people.
τὴν ἅλυσιν ταύτην περίκειμαι (tēn halysin tautēn perikeimai) — v.20: “I am wearing this chain” — literally “I am encompassed by this chain.” The singular “chain” (ἅλυσιν) is the chain linking his wrist to the soldier’s. Paul makes the chain visible: I am wearing this because of the hope of Israel. Not because I committed a crime. Not because I abandoned Judaism. Because I believe in the resurrection — the hope every faithful Israelite shares. The chain becomes, like the chains in Agrippa’s audience hall, not a mark of shame but a badge of fidelity.
τῆς αἱρέσεως ταύτης (tēs hairesēōs tautēs) — v.22: “This sect” — the Roman Jews use the same word (αἵρεσις, hairesis) that Tertullus used in the trial before Felix (24:5). They know about Christianity and they know it is “spoken against everywhere” (πανταχοῦ ἀντιλέγεται). But they claim to have received no specific information about Paul himself. This is plausible: sea travel in winter was impossible, and the Jerusalem authorities may not have sent representatives to prosecute the case before the imperial court. The Roman Jews are open to hearing Paul out, which is more than he received in Jerusalem.

Paul Testifies to the Roman Jews

23 When they had set a day for him, they came to him at his lodging in greater numbers. From morning until evening he was explaining things to them, testifying about the kingdom of God and trying to persuade them about Jesus from both the Law of Moses and the Prophets.

24 And some were being persuaded by what was said, but others refused to believe.

25 And disagreeing among themselves, they began to depart after Paul had spoken one final word: “The Holy Spirit rightly spoke through Isaiah the prophet to your fathers,

26 saying, ‘Go to this people and say: You will keep on hearing but will never understand; you will keep on seeing but will never perceive.

27 For the heart of this people has become dull, and with their ears they scarcely hear, and they have closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and turn — and I would heal them.’

28 Therefore let it be known to you that this salvation of God has been sent to the Gentiles; and they will listen.”

29 [Some manuscripts add: When he had said these things, the Jews departed, having a great dispute among themselves.]

Translator’s Notes — vv. 23–29:
v.23: The scene is extraordinary in its simplicity. Paul, chained to a Roman soldier, teaches all day in his rented quarters. He testifies about the kingdom of God (the theme Jesus announced at the beginning of his ministry) and argues from Moses and the Prophets (the method he has used from the beginning of his). Morning to evening — this is an extended seminar, not a quick presentation. Paul’s last recorded act of ministry is doing the same thing he has always done: opening the Jewish Scriptures and showing how they point to Jesus.
v.24: The mixed response — “some were being persuaded ... but others refused to believe” — is the final instance of a pattern that has recurred throughout Acts. In every city, in every synagogue, the response to the gospel has been divided: some believe, some reject. Luke does not report a mass conversion in Rome. He reports exactly what has happened everywhere else: a fractured response, a divided community, some persuaded and some not.
vv.25–27: Paul’s quotation of Isaiah 6:9–10 is the most theologically loaded moment in the final chapter. This passage, in which God tells Isaiah that his preaching will harden rather than heal his audience, is one of the most quoted Old Testament texts in the New Testament — it appears in all four Gospels (Matthew 13:14–15, Mark 4:12, Luke 8:10, John 12:40) and here in Acts. It is the early church’s primary scriptural framework for understanding Jewish rejection of the gospel: this was foreseen, this was spoken of by the prophets, this is not a failure of the message but a fulfillment of Scripture.
The quotation is the longest Old Testament citation in Acts, and Paul delivers it as a “final word” (ῥῆμα ἕν, “one word”). It functions as a closing statement — not a curse but a diagnosis. Paul is not condemning the Roman Jews; he is placing their response within the prophetic pattern. The division in the room (some persuaded, some not) is itself the fulfillment of Isaiah’s words.
τοῖς ἔθνεσιν ἀπεστάλη τοῦτο τὸ σωτήριον τοῦ θεοῦ (tois ethnesin apestalē touto to sōtērion tou theou) — v.28: “This salvation of God has been sent to the Gentiles” — this is the final theological declaration in Acts. The word ἀπεστάλη (apestalē, “has been sent”) is a divine passive: God sent it. And “they will listen” (αὐτοὶ καὶ ἀκούσονται) is a confident future: the Gentile response will be different. Paul has made this turn three times in Acts — at Antioch of Pisidia (13:46), at Corinth (18:6), and now in Rome (28:28). Each time, Jewish rejection triggers a pivot to the Gentiles. The third and final pivot, in the capital of the world, closes the pattern and opens the future.

Paul in Rome

30 And he stayed two full years in his own rented quarters, and was welcoming all who came to him,

31 proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance.

Translator’s Notes — vv. 30–31:
ἐν ἰδίῳ μισθώματι (en idiō misthōmati) — v.30: “In his own rented quarters” — Paul paid his own rent, presumably funded by the churches or by the income from his tent-making trade (or both). The arrangement is custodia militaris: he is chained to a rotating series of soldiers but otherwise free to receive visitors and conduct his ministry. For two years, every soldier assigned to guard Paul was a captive audience for the gospel. Early tradition (Philippians 1:13, written during this period) says that the gospel became known “throughout the whole Praetorian Guard.” The chain that bound Paul to each soldier also bound each soldier to Paul.
v.30: “Welcoming all who came” — the word ἀπεδέχετο (apedecheto, “was receiving,” “was welcoming”) is in the imperfect tense, indicating continuous, ongoing action over the two-year period. Paul’s door was open. The prisoner was welcoming visitors, not the other way around. His rented room in Rome became the latest in a long series of improvised ministry locations: synagogues, riverside prayer meetings, lecture halls, prisons, ships, and now a private apartment.
μετὰ πάσης παρρησίας ἀκωλύτως (meta pasēs parrēsias akōlytōs) — v.31: The final two words of Acts: παρρησίας (parrēsias, “with all boldness”) and ἀκωλύτως (akōlytōs, “without hindrance”). The second word is extraordinarily rare — found almost nowhere else in surviving Greek literature. It means “unhindered,” “unimpeded,” “without anyone stopping it.” Luke chose to end his entire two-volume work with this word. The gospel is being proclaimed in the capital of the world, without hindrance. The man is in chains; the message is free.

General Notes on the Chapter

Acts 28 is the final chapter of Luke’s two-volume work that began with the birth of Jesus in a Bethlehem stable and ends with Paul preaching in a rented room in Rome. The geographical sweep — from Palestine to the capital of the empire — enacts the programmatic verse of Acts 1:8: “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Rome was, for Luke’s purposes, the end of the earth. The gospel has reached it. The promise is fulfilled.
The ending of Acts is one of the most discussed features of the entire book. It is stunningly abrupt. We are not told the outcome of Paul’s appeal to Caesar. We are not told whether he was acquitted or condemned. We are not told about his death. The narrative simply stops, mid-ministry, with Paul teaching in Rome “without hindrance.” This has generated centuries of debate. Did Luke die before finishing? Did he plan a third volume? Was the trial still pending when he wrote? Or is the ending deliberate?
The most compelling reading is that the ending is intentional and theologically crafted. Luke’s subject was never Paul’s personal fate — it was the advance of the gospel from Jerusalem to Rome. That story is complete. The word of God has reached the center of the world, and it is being proclaimed openly and without hindrance. Paul’s personal destiny — his trial, his possible release, his eventual martyrdom under Nero — belongs to a different story. Luke’s story ends where it was always going to end: with the message arriving at its destination.
The final word of Acts, ἀκωλύτως (“without hindrance”), is the theological punchline of the entire book. From the beginning, everything has tried to hinder the gospel: persecution in Jerusalem, opposition in the synagogues, riots in Ephesus, conspiracies in Judea, corrupt governors, a hurricane, a shipwreck, a snakebite. And yet here, at the end, the message is being proclaimed “without hindrance.” The word is triumphant not because the obstacles didn’t exist but because they didn’t succeed. The man is chained; the word is free. That is the last thing Luke wants his readers to hear.
The Malta section (vv.1–10) provides a final demonstration of what the gospel looks like in practice. Paul, stripped of every social marker — no legal status, no property, no institutional backing — still has the power to heal, to serve, and to transform a community. He gathers firewood for a communal fire. He heals the sick. He leaves the island better than he found it. The pattern of Acts in miniature: the gospel enters a community through service, healing, and sacrificial presence, and leaves behind a transformed people.
The Paul–Jesus parallels that Luke has woven throughout the latter half of Acts reach their quiet culmination in this chapter. Like Jesus, Paul arrives at his destination after a long journey marked by suffering and divine necessity. Like Jesus, he is both rejected and received. Like Jesus, his story ends not with death but with proclamation. And like Jesus’s story, Paul’s story does not really end — it opens outward. The gospel is still being proclaimed. The book of Acts has no conclusion because the story it tells has no conclusion. It is still being written.
What happened to Paul after the two years of Acts 28? The New Testament does not say directly. The most widely held tradition, supported by early church sources (1 Clement 5:5–7, written around AD 96; Eusebius; the Muratorian Fragment), is that Paul was released from this first Roman imprisonment, conducted further missionary activity (possibly including the journey to Spain he mentioned in Romans 15:24–28), was arrested again during the Neronian persecution, and was eventually executed in Rome by beheading (the customary method for a Roman citizen) around AD 64–67. The Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus) may reflect this post-Acts period of ministry. But Luke chooses not to tell that story. He ends with the gospel unhindered, and trusts the reader to carry the story forward.
← Chapter 27 Chapter 28 of 28