In 1st century Athens, a city that pioneered philosophy, the arts, and history, a people who introduced a new form of modern government called democracy, and established a legacy in architecture and sculpting, there remained one area that they admittedly remained novice. Surrounded by great achievements, and the ideological hope that they had truly made life better for generations to come, they were haunted by a landscape they had yet to grasp, much less mark with their creative interpretation.
This was not an error of oversight or neglect. Quite contrary, great effort was spent and philosophers from different backgrounds would spend their time talking, listening, and debating on this issue. Foreigners would travel just to witness the open arena, known as Mars Hill, where debate would take place. It was a place where gifted philosopher and common laborer could speak openly, the only qualification being that he must listen openly as well.
The focus, the yet to be learned and conquered ‘art’, was…God. The Athenians were not atheist who disbelieved in God altogether, nor were they deist who believed in a creator who had vanished after creation. They believed in God, they just didn’t know who God was. They even went so far as to build an altar on which was inscribed, ‘To an Unknown God’.
Last week, my son woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying out. Being the good father that I am, I waited to see if my wife was going to get up and see what was wrong. She did, but after several minutes, he continued to cry uncontrollably. I finally got out of bed, deciding to end this disruption to much coveted rest. When I knelt to my son’s bed, I could tell that this was no ordinary ’night whimper’. Something was wrong. I grabbed my five-year son in my arms, and he grasped me tightly. His whole body was tight, yet shaking, as his tears streamed down his face. My wife and I couldn’t understand anything he was saying, but eventually found out that his stomach hurt.
At one point, as waves of pain overwhelmed him, he tugged on my neck as hard as he could, and he cried out in my ear, ’Daddy, daddy, daddy.’ My sleep had been interrupted by his tears, but my life had been interrupted by his cry. In that moment, nothing mattered except the remedy for his pain. I would have done absolutely anything to relieve his discomfort. His cry had awakened our household(and maybe some of our neighbors), and he had our complete attention and care.
That’s exactly what God did for the Athenians. Truth and freedom from the anguish and painful journey of searching for God, arrived in the form of a Jew, who had had a powerful encounter with the true God.
I’m not sure what your perception of God is, but mine is summed up in 7 words recorded by an ancient king named David. “He parted the heavens and came down.” I not only take comfort in those words, those words describe who I see God as. His desire is to part the divide between heaven and earth, and come down to reveal himself to mankind.
So in your search for meaning, truth, and spiritual sobriety, may you be blessed as the Athenians to realize that, “In him we live, we move and have our being…for we are His offspring.”
This was not an error of oversight or neglect. Quite contrary, great effort was spent and philosophers from different backgrounds would spend their time talking, listening, and debating on this issue. Foreigners would travel just to witness the open arena, known as Mars Hill, where debate would take place. It was a place where gifted philosopher and common laborer could speak openly, the only qualification being that he must listen openly as well.
The focus, the yet to be learned and conquered ‘art’, was…God. The Athenians were not atheist who disbelieved in God altogether, nor were they deist who believed in a creator who had vanished after creation. They believed in God, they just didn’t know who God was. They even went so far as to build an altar on which was inscribed, ‘To an Unknown God’.
Last week, my son woke up in the middle of the night screaming and crying out. Being the good father that I am, I waited to see if my wife was going to get up and see what was wrong. She did, but after several minutes, he continued to cry uncontrollably. I finally got out of bed, deciding to end this disruption to much coveted rest. When I knelt to my son’s bed, I could tell that this was no ordinary ’night whimper’. Something was wrong. I grabbed my five-year son in my arms, and he grasped me tightly. His whole body was tight, yet shaking, as his tears streamed down his face. My wife and I couldn’t understand anything he was saying, but eventually found out that his stomach hurt.
At one point, as waves of pain overwhelmed him, he tugged on my neck as hard as he could, and he cried out in my ear, ’Daddy, daddy, daddy.’ My sleep had been interrupted by his tears, but my life had been interrupted by his cry. In that moment, nothing mattered except the remedy for his pain. I would have done absolutely anything to relieve his discomfort. His cry had awakened our household(and maybe some of our neighbors), and he had our complete attention and care.
That’s exactly what God did for the Athenians. Truth and freedom from the anguish and painful journey of searching for God, arrived in the form of a Jew, who had had a powerful encounter with the true God.
I’m not sure what your perception of God is, but mine is summed up in 7 words recorded by an ancient king named David. “He parted the heavens and came down.” I not only take comfort in those words, those words describe who I see God as. His desire is to part the divide between heaven and earth, and come down to reveal himself to mankind.
So in your search for meaning, truth, and spiritual sobriety, may you be blessed as the Athenians to realize that, “In him we live, we move and have our being…for we are His offspring.”
