Sunday Sermon Manuscript — May 10th

One Name

Acts 17:22–31

Introduction: My Son Cried

1. Last week, my son's sports season came to an end. It was the last official game of a sport he had played for four years. I wasn't able to drive him to every single game, but I tried my best to make it whenever I could. After the games were over, I would drop off all the kids who came along before heading home, and it would usually be close to 10 o'clock at night by the time I walked through the door.

2. With last week's game, those official rides have now come to an end as well. He'll be graduating in a week or two, and I'm told that on the way home after that last game, my son cried. It seems like the four years passed by too quickly, and he felt like something had slipped away.

3. I told him I was sad too — and honestly, it wasn't just because of him. Watching my son cry, I felt the sadness of my own aging. Seeing your children grow up is something to be proud of. It really is a wonderful thing. But as children grow, parents age just as much. When I think about that structure of life, I'm not sure growing up is something to celebrate without reservation.

4. On Mother's Day, I made a video call to my parents. In the middle of that conversation, a thought came to me. The grandchildren are growing. My son is getting older. And the grandparents are aging even more. Behind every joy of growth and hope, there is always another side — sacrifice, and the quiet fading that comes with it. That is simply how life is built.

5. Today is Mother's Sunday. The Men's Mission has prepared lunch for us. The reason we observe Mother's Day in the church is not to win favor with the women in our congregation. It is to share together the memory that a mother's love is ultimately what has carried us to where we are today.

6. In the same way, remembering and sharing together that God has loved us — that is the most important thing a church community does. My prayer is that these memories would build us up firmly today.

Where Paul Stood, the Areopagus — Where Human Reason Pierced the Sky

7. The setting of today's passage is Athens. By today's standards, it was one of the most intellectually sophisticated cities in the world. A city of philosophy, debate, and the arts. And the place where Paul stood was the Areopagus, at the heart of that city.

8. It would be a little too simple to think of the Areopagus as just an open square. The Areopagus is the name of a small rocky hill in Athens, and at the same time, the name of the highest council and court of law that convened on that hill. In Greek, it is called the Areios Pagos — meaning "the Hill of Ares," named after the god of war. It is a place with deep historical roots.

9. The Areopagus was where Athenian philosophers publicly presented their ideas, where intellectuals gathered to debate, and where new schools of thought were sometimes put on trial. The fact that Paul stood there means he had walked into the very intellectual heartland of Athens.

10. Standing on that hill and turning around, the Acropolis spreads out before you. The Parthenon stands there in full view — a place where the greatest architectural expressions of human religious longing were gathered. The intellectual capacity to build such temples, the depth of philosophical thought, the artistic sensibility. Athens in that era was truly a place where human reason pierced the sky, and the city itself was the evidence.

11. But as Paul walked through Athens, he discovered something unexpected. An altar inscribed with the words: "To an Unknown God." In a city that worshipped dozens, even hundreds of gods, someone had built a separate altar for a god they could not even name.

12. The scholar F. F. Bruce said that no other ten verses in the entire book of Acts have received more commentary than this passage. That tells us just how much is packed into these short verses — and perhaps it also means this text comes closer than almost any other to the life we are living right now.

13. Why did the people of Athens build an altar to an unnamed god? Scholars explain it this way: there was an anxiety that perhaps there was a god they had overlooked, and that overlooking him might bring disaster upon them. Even while enjoying every intellectual richness, artistic achievement, and religious devotion available to them, there was still an unfilled space deep in their souls. Spiritual anxiety was always lurking beneath all that splendor. Paul saw that empty space.

"Let Me Tell You Who This Is" — Commentary on Verse 23

14. What is remarkable about Paul's approach is that he does not begin with hostility. He does not open with a frontal attack — "You people are worshipping idols!" Instead, he says, "What you worship without knowing, let me make known to you."

15. The phrase Paul uses — "very religious" — comes from the Greek word deisidaimonesterous, and it carries a double meaning. To the Athenians listening, it would have sounded like a compliment: "You are people of deep faith." But as Luke records this text, he is also conveying to his readers a less flattering nuance — something closer to "very superstitious." It is a deliberately layered expression.

16. Paul found within their religious impulse a point of contact for the gospel. In effect, he was saying, "The one you have been reaching out for — let me introduce you to him." And with that, he had their attention.

A Creator Who Cannot Be Contained — Commentary on Verses 24–25

17. The people of Athens built magnificent temples on the Acropolis. They placed their gods inside those temples. They made statues, offered sacrifices, and worshipped. In much the same way that the Jewish people had, in a sense, tried to confine God within the Temple, people everywhere have attempted to do the same kind of thing.

18. Paul speaks with confidence: God is not there. Because God made all of this world — including the very stones used to build that temple. How could the one who created the material be confined within it? Paul is making a logical argument: the Creator cannot be imprisoned inside his own creation.

19. And then verse 25 marks an important turn. "He is not served by human hands as if he needed anything." This means God does not require us to offer him something in order for him to be satisfied. On the contrary — he is the one who gives to all people life, breath, and everything else.

20. This is where a theologically significant reversal takes place. Religion is generally structured around humans offering something to a god. The deeper assumption is: the more you give, the more you receive. That understanding is deeply embedded in the nature of religion. But the God Paul proclaims completely overturns that structure. He is not the one who receives — he is the one who gives. It is not that we serve him; it is that he has given us life.

21. This is what we might call the very core of the gospel. It is not that we do something to move God's heart. God moved first. That love is what gives us life. That is the good news — the gospel.

22. When people fail to understand this gospel, they go on thinking that they must do something in order to impress God. Taken further, this leads to imagining God as a rather unpredictable figure who dispenses judgment or blessing in exact proportion to our behavior — someone you must constantly manage with anxiety. This is what happens when the gospel is not understood clearly.

Close Enough to Find by Reaching Out — Commentary on Verses 26–28

23. In verse 26, Paul says that God made all peoples from one common ancestor. Though not named here, this refers to Adam. But this is not simply a statement about creation. The Athenians of that era had a strong sense of their own superiority over other peoples, and Paul addresses that pride directly. You, me, all of humanity — God made every one of us. No people, no nation, stands before God with greater standing than another.

24. And then verse 27: "He did this so that people would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him." The phrase "reach out" is a remarkably vivid expression. It is not the language of sight but of touch — the image of a hand extended, feeling around in the dark.

25. What is interesting is that scholars point out Paul uses the phrase "made by human hands" twice in verses 24 and 25, and then describes the human act of seeking God in this same tactile language of "reaching out." The suggestion is that our longing to know God cannot be separated from the fact that we are embodied beings.

26. For the Athenians, the gods were primarily conceptual — encountered through thought and idea alone. But Paul is presenting a radically different vision: a God who reaches out and touches us directly.

27. And the second half of verse 27 carries a beautiful word: "He is not far from any one of us." He is close enough to touch. Right at arm's reach. When the people of Athens stretched out an anxious hand before that altar inscribed "To an Unknown God," Paul was telling them — the one you have been reaching for is not far away.

28. Verse 28 is Paul quoting from a Greek poet — words his audience already knew: "In him we live and move and have our being." Paul uses the language of people who are already in the room with him to carry the truth of the gospel.

29. Our breathing, our moving, our very existence — all of it is happening within God. We are already inside him. The only thing missing is awareness. And when that awareness comes, what we experience in that moment is precisely the grace of God.

The Resurrection — The Most Challenging Proclamation: Commentary on Verses 30–31

30. Paul saves the most challenging claim for the very end of his address. Following the principles of ancient rhetoric, he builds common ground first, and only then brings out the thing he most wants to say. And what he most wants to say is the resurrection.

31. God, he says, has overlooked the times of ignorance — but now he commands all people everywhere to repent. The reason is that he has set a day on which he will judge the world with justice, through a man he has appointed. And the evidence for this is that he raised that man from the dead.

32. We need to stop and ask: why did Paul specifically emphasize the resurrection at the Areopagus? The Athenians were deeply immersed in the dualistic thinking of Greek philosophy — the idea that the body is lowly and the soul is noble. That was the common assumption of the age.

33. Under that framework, the death of the body was considered a liberation. Some even concluded that since the body was inferior anyway, it could be treated carelessly. Salvation meant the soul breaking free from the heavy shell of the physical body.

34. To people who believed this, Paul proclaimed that a body had come back to life. He was pressing exactly on that point, deliberately and precisely. He was using the gospel to shatter the dualistic philosophical framework they lived within.

35. The theologian Stephanie Paulsell writes that the resurrected body of Jesus teaches us that the body matters. After the resurrection, Jesus himself said to his disciples, "Look at my hands and my feet. Touch me and see." The resurrection is not simply a story about a soul ascending to heaven. It is a story about a body that was dead coming back to life.

36. It is a story about a Creator who did not abandon his creation. It is a story about God holding on, to the very end, to everything he made. The body matters. The material world matters. This earth matters — because God made it all.

37. So the gospel of resurrection also speaks to how we are to live right now. Our faith must be lived out with our bodies, in our daily lives, in the ordinary moments of each day. It is not enough for the soul to be holy. The life we live in these bodies — that life itself stands before God as something that matters.

Our Areopagus — This Age, This Place

38. I find myself thinking about this often lately. People say AI is changing the world as if human beings have become creators themselves. And it is true. We are living in a time when many changes leave us unsettled. Human reason is operating at its fullest capacity. Knowledge overflows. Technology is piercing the sky.

39. And yet — it strikes me how much the Areopagus where Paul stood resembles where we are sitting in this sanctuary today. Athens in that era was also a time when human reason was piercing the sky. Philosophy overflowed, temples filled every corner, knowledge was everywhere — and right in the middle of it all was an empty space inscribed "To an Unknown God."

40. I believe that empty space still exists in our time. No matter how far AI advances, no matter how much technology overflows, that space cannot be filled by human effort alone.

41. It is all too easy to conclude: the church is weakening because human reason has grown stronger. In an age when people are this intelligent, does the church still have a place to stand?

42. I don't think so. I mentioned feeling sad that my children are growing up, because it means I am getting older — but is it really only sadness? You all know that is not the whole story. The pride of watching your children grow is greater than the sorrow of your own body weakening. Is it not a cause for joy and gratitude that the next generation is stepping up confidently to carry on the work?

43. In the same way, even if human reason pierces the sky, I believe things that remain unfilled still exist — and God continues to fill them. People may interpret this moment as a crisis for the church. But I believe God will use us to make the created world more beautiful still.

44. And within the gaps of this age, I believe the longing for God is taking up even greater space. That is why I believe now is precisely the time to proclaim the full gospel of Christ.

45. There is a Christian conservation organization called A Rocha — from the Portuguese word for "rock." Its founder, Peter Harris, wrote this about today's passage: "Paul's understanding of God as Creator leads us to see the futility of every religious attempt to confine or privatize God by offering him something. Instead, we come to understand who we are through the lens of a fundamental relationship with God — the one who creates and sustains not only us but everything in this world."

46. The gospel Paul proclaimed at the Areopagus speaks not only to the relationship between human beings, but to our relationship with the whole of creation that God has made.

Conclusion: Some Laugh. Some Believe.

47. When Paul proclaimed the gospel at the Areopagus, there were three kinds of responses. Some laughed. Some said they would like to hear more another time. And some believed and followed. It will be the same today. When we proclaim the risen Jesus, some will laugh, some will step back for now, and some will turn toward him.

48. But among them, there will always be someone like Dionysius and Damaris. The fact that their names are preserved in Scripture is itself a testimony — that there will always be those who respond to the gospel of the resurrection.

49. The gospel demands a decision from us. We need to set aside vague religiosity and make the decision to stand fully before the living God — confirmed and proven through the evidence of the resurrection. From the place where people stretched out anxious hands before an altar inscribed "To an Unknown God," we can now call out a name. Jesus. The risen Jesus.

50. On this Mother's Sunday, we gather to remember and share that a mother's love has carried us to where we are today. Just as we share that memory, the church is the place where we share the memory that God has loved us. We stand at the Areopagus of this age. In this age of anxiety, in this age where altars are still being built to unnamed gods, the ones who carry one Name are you and I, here in this place today.

51. Jesus. The risen Jesus — let us proclaim him. And let us live as people who believe in Jesus. My prayer is that these memories would build us up firmly. In the name of our Lord.