The
islanders showed us
unusual kindness. (Acts 28:2)
It happened to us that first full day on the Island. When we
returned to our third floor condo following an afternoon of frolicking about in
the ocean and the pool; we found ourselves locked out. It dawned on us slowly.
Eventually we sorted it out. There were two lanyards: one for the condo and the
other for the mail box. In our excited state we grabbed the wrong lanyard. We
could get into the mail box, but not the “Penthouse,” as they called the third
floor; not because it is much different from floors one and two, but because it
is the top floor.
An hour or so into it, we concluded there simply was no way
back into our 3rd story penthouse. There were layers of complication—like
we had left our phones (except for Joanna) and credit cards and car keys and
stuff in the condo thinking only of sand and sea. Maybe that’s the price we had
to pay for pretending like we were penthouse kind of people. It’s as if those
in the know said, “You don’t belong here!” There is truth enough to that. We
weren’t exactly supposed to be there. By surprise, we found ourselves penthouse
dwellers for a week; and, not even 24hrs into it, we messed up, locked out due
to our exuberant foolishness.
But, “the
islanders showed us unusual kindness (philanthrōpia).” One of the Islanders scooted up a precarious
three story ladder, provided by the Kona Fire Department, to our lanai from
which he was free to enter since, providentially, we left the lanai doors open.
Our Island rescuers could not have been more kind. They could have made fun and
washed their hands of us. But instead, they showed us penthouse pretenders,
simple human kindness.
It
reminded me some of the Apostle’s rescue. Adrift on “planks and pieces
of the ship’s wreckage,” all 276 passengers, including the Apostle Paul and Dr.
Luke, were washed up onto the shore of a small island about 80 miles south
Sicily called Malta. Today, the shore where the islanders “showed unusual
kindness (philanthrōpia),”
is called “The Bay of Saint Paul.” As Luke narrates the voyage from
Jerusalem/Caesarea to Malta, there is some irony between the simple human
kindness (philanthrōpia,
from which we get our word “philanthropy”) of these Malta islanders, and
the Roman arrogance (hubris 27:10&21 from which we get our word “hubris”) of
the ship’s command that resulted in wreckage. Something like us penthouse
vacationers being salvaged by the islanders’ simple human kindness.