To An Unknown God
Sermon
Sermons On The First Readings
Series II, Cycle A
Object:
Are you one of those people who always has a backup plan? Do you make your commitments and focus your energies on one thing, but have an alternative in mind just in case things don't work out with the first one? You might call it "Plan B" or something else, but basically you're hedging your bets and covering yourself in case the situation goes south.
It's not really a bad idea. Certainly this is done in military circles, in the business community, and even in planning for church ministry and programs. Young folk applying to colleges do this as they apply for their first choice schools and then have a list of "safety schools," or backup possibilities. It is, most people would assert, simply a wise course of action.
I've heard of people doing it in their personal lives, as well. When I was much younger I remember hearing about young women who had "backup plans" or dates for the prom. If the boy of their dreams didn't ask them to the dance, then they would move on to "Plan B" just to make sure they didn't miss the dance.
As we approach this passage of scripture today, we are confronted with a similar situation. Paul stands and notes to the folks that he saw an altar to an "unknown god." This would be a relatively easy thing to ignore. After all, in a polytheistic culture such as Rome's there were many gods, some of whom might be a bit obscure, even unknown, as Paul suggests. But this unknown god was a real specific thing in Roman religious circles. It was a well-known altar and encountered frequently. It wasn't so much for a god who was not known as it was an altar to a god who might be around but people may not be aware of yet. It was a placeholder, if you will, for a god who may yet show up on the scene. Sort of a backup plan in case the gods we're working with right now don't work out as well as we had hoped.
The Romans, being not only polytheistic, but practical as well, came up with an empty seat sort of option. This way, any gods who might be wandering about wouldn't take offense at not having an altar, and the Romans wouldn't miss out on a potential deity that might be of help at some point down the road for them. Such is the focus of the "unknown god" that Paul describes in this passage from Acts.
All this is, of course, well and good for your average Roman. Good, that is, until Paul comes on the scene with these wild stories about Jesus. Paul invokes the "unknown god" in order to say that in Jesus Christ, God has become known, and the option of laying out a place setting for a God who may come along has been removed. In other words, no more "Plan B." No more backup plans or alternative strategies. For Paul, and I think ultimately for us, all the eggs go in the Jesus basket. No more hedging of our bets, no more "safety" options. This God wants it all.
This, of course, is an easy thing for a preacher to seize upon. The jump onto the rhetorical slide is easy. Down we go as we lift up the one true answer in Jesus Christ. We pick up momentum as we challenge people to throw out their carefully laid plans, rational options, and safety nets, and urge them to grab instead onto the one sure thing. Now we're really flying as we, with Paul, throw all caution to the wind and call all of you to follow a God who "does not live in shrines made by human hands."
Yes, it's a preacher's fantasy. Yet, when one stops to consider this whole Christian enterprise, the things seem almost foolhardy. Maybe the Romans had a point. Why not place our spiritual cards on a table where we can bet on any number of deities, even ones who haven't shown up yet? Doesn't it make sense to cover all the bases? Isn't it just practical in a spiritual sort of way? It reminds me of a fellow I once knew who took it upon himself to convince me that the church should be an interfaith center where all spiritual options would be open to the folks who came in the door. He was well-meaning, I think, if a bit confused. I remember a conversation standing by the altar in our sanctuary one afternoon. This person looked at me intensely as we gazed at the cross on the altar, and he said, "I'll be happy when we can put a statue of the Buddha right next to the cross." The temptation of some would be to discredit this person for his lack of clarity and focus in faith. But in truth, is he any different from the Romans who Paul was addressing? Is he really any different than any of us?
Think about it. Are we able to jettison all the things that we use as backup plans in our lives in favor of our faith in God through Jesus Christ? Okay, so maybe we don't build an altar to an unknown God. But could it be that we do hedge our bets a bit when it comes to totally trusting in God? How does that old World War I song go? "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition?" Maybe we aren't polytheistic like the Romans ... or are we?
Do we have a multiplicity of gods who get our allegiance and our trust, along with the God of Israel? Maybe instead of the twelve gods of the Romans, we have other gods like money. Or possibly we worship the God of national interest or patriotism? Or could it be that we bow down at the altar of social station or influence?
You see, I think we're not so different from my friend who wants the Buddha next to the cross. I think we have more in common with the Romans of Paul's day than we might imagine. I think that we, like many people, hedge our bets when it comes to our faith.
And so, easy or not, I jump onto the preacher's side and stand today with Paul.
I do think that we are called to choose.
In a world that yaks, pleads, and begs for our attention and our loyalty, the voice of Jesus bids us pick him. In a time when uncertainty clouds our judgment and we scatter like sheep without a shepherd, the good shepherd, Jesus, calls us by name. In a culture where countless gods of material wealth, power, and influence reach out in seductive song to us, the God of love stands on the solid ground of hope and new beginning and bids us sing "his" song.
Yes. There are many gods out there, both known and unknown, but we who gather here today, come to sit at the feet of the Creator of heaven and earth who has come to us in Jesus Christ. We have chosen. We have taken all our eggs and put them in the Jesus basket.
We do so, finally, because we trust in the message we have heard from Jesus as he stood up in the temple that day and read from the Isaiah scroll:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.
-- Luke 4:18-19
We trust, and we believe that this anointed one who has been sent is our Savior and our Redeemer, and it is him and no other whom we follow. Yes, indeed. We have put all our eggs in the Jesus basket! Thanks be to God! Amen.
It's not really a bad idea. Certainly this is done in military circles, in the business community, and even in planning for church ministry and programs. Young folk applying to colleges do this as they apply for their first choice schools and then have a list of "safety schools," or backup possibilities. It is, most people would assert, simply a wise course of action.
I've heard of people doing it in their personal lives, as well. When I was much younger I remember hearing about young women who had "backup plans" or dates for the prom. If the boy of their dreams didn't ask them to the dance, then they would move on to "Plan B" just to make sure they didn't miss the dance.
As we approach this passage of scripture today, we are confronted with a similar situation. Paul stands and notes to the folks that he saw an altar to an "unknown god." This would be a relatively easy thing to ignore. After all, in a polytheistic culture such as Rome's there were many gods, some of whom might be a bit obscure, even unknown, as Paul suggests. But this unknown god was a real specific thing in Roman religious circles. It was a well-known altar and encountered frequently. It wasn't so much for a god who was not known as it was an altar to a god who might be around but people may not be aware of yet. It was a placeholder, if you will, for a god who may yet show up on the scene. Sort of a backup plan in case the gods we're working with right now don't work out as well as we had hoped.
The Romans, being not only polytheistic, but practical as well, came up with an empty seat sort of option. This way, any gods who might be wandering about wouldn't take offense at not having an altar, and the Romans wouldn't miss out on a potential deity that might be of help at some point down the road for them. Such is the focus of the "unknown god" that Paul describes in this passage from Acts.
All this is, of course, well and good for your average Roman. Good, that is, until Paul comes on the scene with these wild stories about Jesus. Paul invokes the "unknown god" in order to say that in Jesus Christ, God has become known, and the option of laying out a place setting for a God who may come along has been removed. In other words, no more "Plan B." No more backup plans or alternative strategies. For Paul, and I think ultimately for us, all the eggs go in the Jesus basket. No more hedging of our bets, no more "safety" options. This God wants it all.
This, of course, is an easy thing for a preacher to seize upon. The jump onto the rhetorical slide is easy. Down we go as we lift up the one true answer in Jesus Christ. We pick up momentum as we challenge people to throw out their carefully laid plans, rational options, and safety nets, and urge them to grab instead onto the one sure thing. Now we're really flying as we, with Paul, throw all caution to the wind and call all of you to follow a God who "does not live in shrines made by human hands."
Yes, it's a preacher's fantasy. Yet, when one stops to consider this whole Christian enterprise, the things seem almost foolhardy. Maybe the Romans had a point. Why not place our spiritual cards on a table where we can bet on any number of deities, even ones who haven't shown up yet? Doesn't it make sense to cover all the bases? Isn't it just practical in a spiritual sort of way? It reminds me of a fellow I once knew who took it upon himself to convince me that the church should be an interfaith center where all spiritual options would be open to the folks who came in the door. He was well-meaning, I think, if a bit confused. I remember a conversation standing by the altar in our sanctuary one afternoon. This person looked at me intensely as we gazed at the cross on the altar, and he said, "I'll be happy when we can put a statue of the Buddha right next to the cross." The temptation of some would be to discredit this person for his lack of clarity and focus in faith. But in truth, is he any different from the Romans who Paul was addressing? Is he really any different than any of us?
Think about it. Are we able to jettison all the things that we use as backup plans in our lives in favor of our faith in God through Jesus Christ? Okay, so maybe we don't build an altar to an unknown God. But could it be that we do hedge our bets a bit when it comes to totally trusting in God? How does that old World War I song go? "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition?" Maybe we aren't polytheistic like the Romans ... or are we?
Do we have a multiplicity of gods who get our allegiance and our trust, along with the God of Israel? Maybe instead of the twelve gods of the Romans, we have other gods like money. Or possibly we worship the God of national interest or patriotism? Or could it be that we bow down at the altar of social station or influence?
You see, I think we're not so different from my friend who wants the Buddha next to the cross. I think we have more in common with the Romans of Paul's day than we might imagine. I think that we, like many people, hedge our bets when it comes to our faith.
And so, easy or not, I jump onto the preacher's side and stand today with Paul.
I do think that we are called to choose.
In a world that yaks, pleads, and begs for our attention and our loyalty, the voice of Jesus bids us pick him. In a time when uncertainty clouds our judgment and we scatter like sheep without a shepherd, the good shepherd, Jesus, calls us by name. In a culture where countless gods of material wealth, power, and influence reach out in seductive song to us, the God of love stands on the solid ground of hope and new beginning and bids us sing "his" song.
Yes. There are many gods out there, both known and unknown, but we who gather here today, come to sit at the feet of the Creator of heaven and earth who has come to us in Jesus Christ. We have chosen. We have taken all our eggs and put them in the Jesus basket.
We do so, finally, because we trust in the message we have heard from Jesus as he stood up in the temple that day and read from the Isaiah scroll:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor.
-- Luke 4:18-19
We trust, and we believe that this anointed one who has been sent is our Savior and our Redeemer, and it is him and no other whom we follow. Yes, indeed. We have put all our eggs in the Jesus basket! Thanks be to God! Amen.
