The Psalmist and the Unknown God


Psalm 66:8-20
Bless our God, O peoples,
   let the sound of his praise be heard,
who has kept us among the living,
   and has not let our feet slip.
For you, O God, have tested us;
   you have tried us as silver is tried.
You brought us into the net;
   you laid burdens on our backs;
you let people ride over our heads;
   we went through fire and through water;
yet you have brought us out to a spacious place.


I will come into your house with burnt-offerings;
   I will pay you my vows,
those that my lips uttered
   and my mouth promised when I was in trouble.
I will offer to you burnt-offerings of fatlings,
   with the smoke of the sacrifice of rams;
I will make an offering of bulls and goats.


Come and hear, all you who fear God,
   and I will tell what he has done for me.
I cried aloud to him,
   and he was extolled with my tongue.
If I had cherished iniquity in my heart,
   the Lord would not have listened.
But truly God has listened;
   he has given heed to the words of my prayer.


Blessed be God,
   because he has not rejected my prayer
   or removed his steadfast love from me.


Christy and I love to travel. Three years ago for our 20th anniversary we went to Italy for 10 days or so. This was something we had discussed for two decades; it required tons of planning: what cities should we visit? How should we schedule the trip? We know we can’t see everything, so what is most important, and what can be saved for a future return trip? And of course there are the surprises of the trip, like when we arrived in Venice on an early Sunday morning, only to discover our ATM card didn’t work, even though I had verified more than once that it should work. After a very stressful hour or so in the small airport, I am glad to say our marriage survived the ordeal, barely, and we were able to begin a wonderful adventure: Venice/Ravenna/Florence/Siena/Rome. At some of the stops we planned our day; the most fun happened when we were free to explore on our own, getting lost and making unplanned discoveries.


Most of the second half of the Acts of the Apostles plays like such an adventure, although it’s not a couple celebrating two decades of ministry. It’s an apostle, Paul, telling the stories of the resurrected Jesus in local synagogues through Greece and Turkey. How did he prepare himself for his journey? Rick Steves travel videos on PBS? Guidebooks written by locals? Are his days heavily organized or does he leave room for inspiration and discovery? He’s traveled to Iconium and Lystra, Troas, Neapolis, Philippi, and Thessalonica, and today he finds himself in Athens, one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the world. Once the center for philosophy and intellectualism, it is the home of great minds such as Plato and Socrates. The culture of Athens is steeped in freedom of thought and expression. There is always room for questioning and defending one’s ideas. 


Paul begins his missionary work as he always does, in the local synagogue. He teaches the Athenian Jews about Jesus of Nazareth, crucified and raised from the dead. But as Paul explores the wider city, he is overwhelmed by the shrines to local gods. Throughout the marketplace people have set up altars to worship their own personal deities. As a Jew, trained to worship only the one true God, Paul is horrified by this. On the one hand, it’s obvious to Paul that the people of Athens believe something; it’s also obvious that they believe just about anything, which isn’t far from believing nothing.


Some of the philosophers hear of Paul’s teachings and they are curious. They invite him to leave the marketplace and join them in the Areopagus, the home of philosophical conversation in Athens. It's a think tank for intellectuals away from the activity of everyday life. Paul knows his audience; they are curious, interested in hearing a new teaching. He tailors his message for them, remembering an altar dedicated not to Athena or any minor god, but to an anonymous god: 


“...as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things… Since we are God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.”


The unknown god has been made known in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The one God, who made every living being, who is the source of all goodness and beauty, also calls each of us into a relationship, which offers new life and the potential of transformation for the individual and all of humanity. Paul invites the Athenian intellectual class to experience this new way of living, not as a philosophical exercise but as a way of life.


The psalmist does a similar thing in Psalm 66. Remembering the victory of the Exodus, the most important event in the relationship between Israel and its God, the psalmist tells the story: 
He turned the sea into dry land;
   they passed through the river on foot.
There we rejoiced in him,
   who rules by his might for ever,
whose eyes keep watch on the nations—
   let the rebellious not exalt themselves.


But then the psalmist brings the exodus experience to where the people live today:


For you, O God, have tested us;
   you have tried us as silver is tried.
You brought us into the net;
   you laid burdens on our backs;
you let people ride over our heads;
   we went through fire and through water;
yet you have brought us out to a spacious place.


And now the psalmist’s own experience:


I will come into your house with burnt-offerings;
   I will pay you my vows,
those that my lips uttered
   and my mouth promised when I was in trouble.
I will offer to you burnt-offerings of fatlings,
   with the smoke of the sacrifice of rams;
I will make an offering of bulls and goats.


Come and hear, all you who fear God,
   and I will tell what he has done for me.
I cried aloud to him,
   and he was extolled with my tongue.
If I had cherished iniquity in my heart,
   the Lord would not have listened.
But truly God has listened;
   he has given heed to the words of my prayer.


Blessed be God,
   because he has not rejected my prayer
   or removed his steadfast love from me.


The movement of the psalm is communal to individual. It moves from historical to personal.


Jesus assured the disciples of God’s love for them:
"I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them."


Paul walks through Athens, travel guidebook in hand, trying to navigate the ancient city. Every street reveals yet another altar to a god. Many of those shrines are inhabited by gods fashioned by the hands of local artisans. This is silly; how can someone worship something made by someone else? Where is the eternal truth and power in something that didn't exist before someone created it? But the altar to the unknown deity… that presents a window for a conversation. The mystery is too big to be fashioned into an object. Turns out that the unknown God is closer to us than we have known. God hears our prayer, listens to our need, and acts. Even in our grief and despair, we are not alone in our suffering. This God invites us to a new understanding, a new relationship, but it requires a response on our part. Paul ends his sermon at the Areopagus with an altar call, like a tent revival: “God overlooks ignorance of these things in times past, but now directs everyone everywhere to change their hearts and lives.”


The unknown God has been made known in the resurrected Christ. But the life of faith is not just an intellectual or philosophical exercise. It requires work. And growth. The relationship has a beginning, with a decision to follow Christ’s teachings and way of life. As Jesus said,


Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it. If you love me, you will keep my commandments. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.’


So we have an opportunity to change our hearts and minds, to make room for a new understanding and a way of living. God knows us; now it’s time for us to know God. Knowing God’s love and grace, mercy and forgiveness, relishing in the commandments to love one another as we have been loved, is the ultimate freedom.

The Athenian mission wasn’t a huge success. Paul did his thing, some listened and wanted to hear more, others came to faith, others dismissed the apostle as a fool.  Such is the life of a traveling evangelist! Paul then continued his missionary journey: next to Corinth, then Ephesus, then Macedonia, on and on. We’re traveling on a missionary journey as well, sharing a gospel of a God made known through the resurrection of Christ. We’ve reached out into unknown territory, beyond the building of the existing congregation, into a much larger space with new people, each of whom have their own stories and needs. God is calling us into that new world, where there are few guidebooks and roadmaps, to share our experience and knowledge of God’s grace and mercy. I invite you to be part of the journey. Step away from the organized, predictable tour bus and into the marketplace. Yes, there is the potential to become lost, but isn’t that the fun of travel? That is where there is the best chance for new discovery and unexpected adventure. In the name of the Father the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen

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