To An Unknown God
By Caroline Dean
May 29, 2011
Acts 17: 22-33
[ Audio
(mp3, 6.1Mb) ]
en Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, ‘Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. For 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, is Lord of heaven and earth, and
does not live in shrines made by human hands, nor is God served by human hands,
as though God needed anything, since God gives to all mortals life and breath
and all things. From one ancestor, God made all nations to inhabit the whole
earth, and God allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the
places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps reach
out and find God—though indeed God is not far from each one of us. For “in God
we live and move and have our being”; as even some of your own poets have said,
“for we too are God’s offspring.”
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 God commands all people
everywhere to repent, because God has fixed a day on which the world will be
judged in righteousness by a man whom God has appointed, and of this, God has
given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.'
When
they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, ‘We
will hear you again about this.'
Let us pray...: Holy one, may we be open to your spirit
and may this time of worship together draw us into communion with you and with
one another. Give us faith once more to trust in you. Amen.
Imagine
a guest speaker from out of town begins her sermon by saying, “Dear people of
New Jersey, Summitonians, Maplewoodians,
New Providence people, those who trek in and out of the great New York City, I
see that in every way you are very religious.”
We
would elbow each other and whisper – “is she crazy - very religious? Yea right!” And
if it were appropriate to respond to someone in the middle of her sermon we
might share, how we are for the most part here in New Jersey, particularly
“spiritual but never religious.” If
anything we can call ourselves ‘spiritual' in certain ‘special moments' when
things are ‘just right' - when no one is guilt tripping us with words like
“hell” “sin” and “repentance.” We
feel spiritual out in nature. We
feel connected to God through art, music, and beauty. We also connect to one another
spiritually when we help people who are in need. But most of all, we respect that
spirituality in our area is a very PRIVATE matter. We get squeamish when confronted with
“loud” obtrusive religion. Spiritual? Maybe. Sometimes…under the right conditions. But, religious? No way.”
The
story in the book of Acts is jammed packed with metaphors that we could apply
to our modern situation where we call ourselves “spiritual but not religious,” but
let me start by focusing and ruling out what I am not preaching on today: these
potential sermon topics are classic interpretations of Paul's speech in Acts 17
which are worth reimagining briefly.
First,
I will NOT preach about religion trumping intellectual or philosophical
commitments. The city of Athens was
the center of the Greek philosophical thought. And so some interpret this story as one
of the first debates between Christianity and philosophy, since they are both
seek after ultimate truth.
But on the contrary, this story actually promotes the idea that
philosophy can be a resource in exploring divine mysteries. Paul actually quotes Greek philosophers
in his meditation on God’s character.
Secondly,
unfortunately, I do not have time today to give you the “modern day idols”
speech (which is another classic interpretation of this text). I will not preach on the misplacement of
our devotion and our human tendency towards obsession and disintegration. We certainly struggle with, and live
among, workaholism, alcoholism, addiction, struggles
with body image, low self esteem, and “the race to no where” which are ALL
distorted practices. How do we as a
culture and as individuals devote ourselves to practices that are killing us physically,
emotionally, spiritually? I could
easily preach on how climbing the corporate ladder, sports, fundraisers,
getting kids into college, financial security, to-do lists, and even family
time, can be modern-day idols which rule our lives. And so I will save that one for another
day.
And
lastly, I will most certainly NOT preach on Paul's Mars Hill speech as a lesson
in tactfully converting others to Christianity by drawing them in with their
own traditions and then pulling out the “resurrection card” as the hook at the
end.
Instead, during our time together today
we will meditate on “unknowing” as a faith practice and our encounter with the
“unknown God.”
I
typically have two responses to the “unknown” in life. My first response is that the “unknown”
is scary. What will happen in the next
phase of life? What will happen to
a friend or family member who is sick or suffering? What happens after we die? Facing the “unknown” in life makes us
feel out of control.
And what about the “unknown God?” If I am honest, the unknown GOD freaks
me out sometimes. The “unknowing”
makes God feel far away. It makes
God feel out of my control. It is scary to me that we cannot know God
fully. And if we are honest, in
view of the mysteries of God, aren't we at best, guessing? Who am I, and who is anyone, to speak of
the unknowable? To
speak on eternity, the divine, the beyond, the ultimate things?
But
on the one hand, maybe it is good for pastors and theologians to be a bit
intimidated by the “unknowness” of God. A little dose of humility every once in
a while is good for any person who is tempted to be certain of God’s exact
character. And so we can attempt to
embrace God’s mystery as an opportunity to practice humility, which tempers our
speech about God.
My
second reaction to the “unknown nature of God” is that God’s mystery is also freeing. If God is mysterious then we don't
always have to have an answer.
God’s mystery allows us to hold in tension other religions and other
understandings of God. It allows
someone else to be the ultimate judge and takes that role away from anyone else
who claims to have that authority.
When we know everything about God, heaven and hell, and right and wrong,
we think we know who gets “kicked out” and who gets to be “in” the club. But
the “unknown God” messes with those categories. When we add a little mystery to the mix
more people get to join the party.
When we allow for a little grey, we open up the gates to those who are
usually on the outside.
In Paul's speech, the author emphasizes
the universality of this “unknown God.”
The Creator God is available to everyone, not just Jews or Christians. God is “not far from each one of
us.” We are all interconnected as
God’s offspring, linked to a common ancestor. God commands everyone, everywhere to
repent (not you and you and them, but me and us and everyone!). God’s
mysterious universality includes others that we might choose to exclude. And so as a part of our humble response
to God’s mystery, we must commit to the practice of inclusivity and universal
belonging.
I
wonder if this universal experience of God’s love and goodness, it is why we are
comfortable calling ourselves “spiritual but not religious.” We want to claim some parts of this funky
tradition, but not all of it. But
is this enough? What are we missing
by only affirming God’s mystery and universality? What is the story of this God? How did this altar to “an unknown god” get
here? Who gathers around it? Does this God have a name? How do I show that I am devoted to God? What does the story of this altar have
to teach us about how to live our lives well?
Paul
answers these questions by connecting the universal experience of the “unknown
God” to a people, to a community and to a specific STORY. Paul uses the story of Israel to guide
his journey into the mysterious God.
Paul uses the story of Jesus, and the story of resurrection to help him
navigate God’s “unknowness.” The resurrection is the story of hope
and new life in the midst of ultimate darkness. It's the story of faith in the midst of unknowing. This is Paul's key to get a glimpse into
the mysteries of the divine revealed in the person of Jesus.
Julie
and I went on a Christian Educator's retreat this spring and on this retreat a
pastor shared a children's story about “Adam and Eve's First Sunrise.” The first the rays of the sun setting on
the horizon seemed like an all-consuming fire that was destroying the
land. And so, Adam and Eve feared this
unknown fire. Then, after the rays
subsided, darkness slowly covered what they had once been able to see only
hours before. Imagine Adam and
Eve's response to their first experience of night. They never expected the sun to come out
again! They had never done this
before! What happens in the
darkness? But that morning the same
glow on the horizon brought back the sun and they survived their first night. This is the struggle of
resurrection faith. Do we hope for
a sunrise, no matter how long the night?
Is this na•ve? Does this
undermine those who suffer long nights and have short days? Paul's radical faith in resurrection
hope is the key to his understanding of the unknown God.
And
so how do we navigate the unknown God?
We start by letting God’s mystery teach us humility and
inclusivity. But at the same time,
we cannot let the mystery of God paralyze us and keep us from saying anything
constructive about God, about hope and faith.
Pastor
Russell Rathbun and his church community called the “House
of Mercy” moved into a new space about two years ago. At the front of this new sanctuary
space, behind the altar, there was a stone statue of Jesus (Slide 1). Russell writes, “I recognized Jesus immediately
the first time I saw the statue, not just because of where he was standing, but
because I know what Jesus looks like.”
He continues “I have seen images of Jesus all my life (Slide 2), in
pictures in books, paintings, carvings-sometimes Jesus has a beard, sometimes
his hair is cut above the shoulders, other times it is well below. Sometimes his arms are down, palms open
and other times his arms are raised in a gesture of blessing or a
“What-are-you-gonna-do?” shrug—it is hard to
tell. Sometimes he is playing
hockey, but he is ALWAYS recognizable…but the irony of course, is that this
isn't what Jesus looks like at all.
That Jesus—the one that we all recognize—is ‘Our Instantly Recognizable
Cultural Jesus.'” (Slide 3)
To
make this new sanctuary space “their own” the House of Mercy commissioned an
artist in their community to make a large painting for their altar (which
conveniently covered up the statue of “immediately recognizable Jesus”). The artist created a five by eight foot
painting called the one hundred and forty four Bathers (Slide 4). “This
painting presents multiple images of Jesus and symbolic representations of God.
It is made up of images that are held in tension—darkness and light, pain and
joy, the gaze of shame, the gaze of mercy, fear and trust, distortion of desire
and acceptance of desire.” Russell
writes, “we mean no disrespect when we cover up the
statue of “Immediately Recognizable Cultural Jesus” with the new painting but House
of Mercy has always hoped to explore an image of God in Christ that is complex,
baffling, challenging, and always full of love and mercy.” (Slide 5)
Think
about this painting, why do we often cringe when we
hear the word “religious?” We are
reacting against concrete images of God, the statues of Jesus that have given
us baggage. Someone told us
something along the way about who God is and what church does that turned us
off from religion. And so our first
step is to let God’s mystery free you of this baggage. God is bigger than our broken images and
metaphors of the divine. God is
greater than a God who relies on shame and guilt. But don't stop there! Let the mystery of God free us from our
limited understandings of God and THEN let us have the courage to re-imagine,
re-paint, together a new vision of God that is an expression of grace and love.
And so the point is that when we embrace the mystery of God we
realize that God is much more than “culturally recognizable Jesus.” And
sometimes these portraits of God that are “most recognizable” are not even what
God looks like! And so we are rejecting
something that is OKAY to reject! But
that does not mean that we empty our sacred spaces of any depiction of God’s
beauty or God’s love. That does not
mean that we stare at blank canvases and cultivate empty theological
imaginations. Rather, it means that
we get creative! We paint, draw,
sing, and imagine “our unknown God” together in a space that we call
“church.” We explore a God visible
in the person of Christ who is “complex, baffling, and challenging.”
And
so together, we can move forward to carefully and critically imagine what God
and church might look like in view of God’s “unknown-ness.” Ultimately this is a faith step, a
resurrection move. It's a risky,
unknown space for many of us, because we are leaving behind the “black and white”
structures of easy religion. It is
a step of faith to say anything about an “unknown God.” And yet somehow in scriptures, in
tradition, in our faith community, God is ever present. Our “unknown” God is mysteriously
revealed, not so that we can control God’s presence but rather so we can receive
God and have the courage to continue the faith journey in humility.
And
so this week let us embrace the mystery of God that will humble us and help us
re-commit to the spiritual practice of inclusivity. And despite our religious baggage and
problems with “cultural images of Jesus,” let us have the courage and the faith
to constantly re-imagine God in Christ and what it means to be God’s
people. Amen.
Benediction:
Go now in peace, re-imagining a God
of love and grace who guides you and sustains you in the darkest night. Amen.
© 2011
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All rights reserved.
