Building a Bridge on Ares Hill

 

            Paul, being Paul, had stirred up trouble in Northern Greece
—he’d started a riot!
And his fellow Christians whisked him away to Athens to lay low for a while…

            And, Paul, being Paul, didn’t lay low.
Instead, he stumbled out into the streets of Athens,
and started arguing with folk
—not just his fellow Jews from the local synagogue,
but Greek Philosophers of various sorts, as well.

            You see
—Athens was a place where the new and novel were the most important thing;
philosophers debated each other like rap battles
and new ideas popped up and were consumed like popcorn at a B movie,
and digging down deep to get to the root of what it means to be human
—was held in the highest regard.

            So, Paul’s preaching was picked up as an original idea to be unpacked and played with… and judged.
These philosophers drug him up to the Hill of Ares in order to,
“find out what all these words Paul is planting mean.”

            Up Ares Hill—the Areopagus,
named for the famous first trial in Greek Myth.
Ares, the god of war, murdered the son of Poseidon, the god of the sea,
and was put on trial and acquitted… found innocent…
right there on that spot,
where Paul and his preaching of Christ and Resurrection
were put on trial.

            Right there,
where Paul begins with a sort of compliment (perhaps a backhanded one)
“I see you all are super spiritual.”

            Right there,
where Paul begins by building a bridge
to this frantic philosophical pagan audience.
Building a Bridge on Ares Hill.

Prayer

 

            Building a Bridge on Ares Hill.

Paul begins by complimenting an altar to an unknown God,
and then proceeds to quote two different philosophers and a poet.
Pagan Idols, Ideologies, and Art,
seemingly embraced by this monotheistic preacher—how odd.

It’s worth thinking about what Paul is up to here!
He’s following the 8^th commandment to get to the 1^st.
He refuses to lie about his neighbor,
in fact he’s interpreting the Athenians in the best possible light
—that the altar is an attempt to honor God,
that the beauty of poetry
and rigorous striving after truth of philosophy
are acts of yearning, a searching, sifting, fumbling,
finding of the one who has found us,
who has revealed himself to us,
who abides with us,
and will never abandon us.

Yes, he builds that bridge,
weight bearing to this day
—kind interpretation of the one with whom you disagree,
a generous explanation of the other’s motives
and where they find their meaning.

I dare say Paul does so in a more civilized manner
—back in the ancient world
—than most of us moderns and post-moderns,
with all our overtures to tolerance and “live and let live”
—do today.

So, he gives them the benefit of the doubt
and then gets to a point much larger than those particular philosophies or even pagan pantheons.
He points to the 1^st commandment,
“You shall have no other gods.”
Our gods are, as Luther says,
those things that we fear, love, and trust
—those are our idols.

Human beings are Idol factories (John Calvin).
We’ll gladly create:
-a god that needs our nourishment/
—instead of worshipping the one who created the world good and very good.
-a god who is exclusive to only our people,
a god on our side/
—when we ought to ask, as Abraham Lincoln famously said, if we’re on God’s side
—are we able to acknowledge that everyone is made in God’s image!
-a god easily containable,
confined to smaller and smaller boxes,
controlled and tame/
—when God is the one who comes to us,
meets us where we’re at,
and calls us onward
to see what the Spirit is already stirring up!

 

But Paul puts them all into their rightful place
—pieces of creation, not the Creator,
idols shrunk down to size,
those things once enthroned and deified are refashioned and redeemed
—they are good, not The Good.

“You’re sure right, Mr. Stoic
—we’re children of God
—out of many one
—a common origin and common future,
grafted into a good and growing family.”

“Gosh, you Epicureans are right,
if we’re not careful with all this religion and spirituality talk,
we’ll fall into superstition,
we’ll forget that everything is a grace and a gift from God
—Providence provides for us
—God acts first, we simply respond.”

 

After all that,
naming the yearnings of Athens,
relativizing the Idols,
uplifting those voices that were in harmony with his own,

Finally, Paul uses the geography of Athens
—that hill itself
—to build a bridge to his Athenian listeners.
The Areopagus,
and its eerie mythology,
point to Christ.

He points back to that other god,
who haunts that hill.
He points to the trial of Ares.
Ares was found guilty of murder
and yet judged innocent.

And so, Paul preaches about another judge
one who, so strangely, was somehow on trial!
(those of you who attend our Good Friday service might remember
that my translation of John’s Passion makes this explicit
—while SOMEONE sits on the Judge’s Bench in John’s Gospel
—ultimately it is Jesus, not Pilate)
He is innocent and yet was executed.

Yes, Paul tells of another judgment,
Jesus is found guilty and among sinners,
and yet was holy and righteous.
He died,
no, more than that,
rose, for sinners!

The judge who sees all our idols
—the Pantheon of false gods that we worship—we Athenians,
and favors us anyhow!
Whose judgement acquits us of Sin
and reconciles us to God and neighbor.
Who is making right the whole world,
Jesus Christ our Lord!

Amen and Alleluia!