Texts: Acts 17:22-31; John 14:15-21

Some years ago, after several years of graduate study, I emerged from academic life to take a job with the Government of Alberta. My first years there were a challenge. Having become accustomed to expressing myself in the “code” of my particular specialty, I had a lot of difficulty in communicating with my colleagues. A manager once came to me with a memo I had written, and said “Thanks for this memo, but I haven’t a clue what you said.”

My boss directed me to attend one of the government’s personnel training courses, a three day session on “Letter & Memo Writing”—an uninspiring name for an event which turned out to be life-changing. The course’s central message was “know your audience,” which now seems oh-so-obvious, but for me at that time it was a stunning revelation. Pay attention to the language your reader understands, and to the context in which he or she works—and that will make all the difference.

Then we turn to today’s lesson from Acts, and find Paul’s using this very same principle—know your audience!

Let’s set the scene. Paul arrived in Athens, the centre of Greek culture, the home of the great philosophers and poets of the classical era. The age of Plato and Aristotle was long past, but the culture of intellectual enquiry was alive and well in the city—at least among the wealthy with the leisure time to engage in such pursuits. Dominated by two schools of thought (Epicureanism and Stoicism), philosophers routinely gathered to debate at the Areopagus, with a lively curiosity for new ideas. Paul had been speaking around town, especially in the local synagogue, attracting the attention of some of these intellectuals, who asked “What does this babbler want to say?” They invited him to say his piece to the assembly.

That’s where we came in. In most of Paul’s other sermons in Acts, he is addressing Jews and Gentile “God-fearers,” people who understood the scriptural and historical background of the story of Jesus. These Athenian philosophers knew nothing of this—preaching to them about Jesus and his role in salvation history would be a waste of breath—something like me using a lot of technical terms in a memo to one of the politicians I once served. The reaction would be “huh?” (Or words to that effect…)

Rather than talk about Jesus, Paul used materials at hand—an altar dedicated to an “unknown god,” quotations from Greek philosophers and poets, and the various idols around Athens. They can relate to these ideas and images. He spoke to them in their own terms, on their own ground, leading up to his final statement that God…

…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.
                                                                                          (Acts 17:31)

And what happened? The lectionary breaks the story off there, so let’s read on:

When they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some scoffed; but others said, “We will hear you again about this.” At that point Paul left them. But some of them joined him and became believers…           (Acts 17:32-33a)

It appears that Paul was thoroughly convincing for most of them, up to the point where he spoke of the judgement and resurrection. For Epicureans, who held that the gods exist but are profoundly indifferent to human life, who rejected any notion of life beyond this one, and who defined justice as an agreement “neither to harm nor be harmed”, this statement was simply absurd. Their response recalls Paul’s statement in 1 Cor 1:23:

…we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles…

But others heard something worth pursuing, and some even went so far as to join Paul.

Paul knew his audience, and what would get their attention. He also knew that not everyone would accept his message, scoffing and sneering at what he said. Did that stop him? Of course not! Paul was absolutely convinced of the truth he was called to proclaim, and of the necessity of his mission. His life story had taught him that the Gospel does divide people: not all who hear it will accept it.

We can learn a lot from Paul, we who belong to a church that is too often afflicted with “spiritual agoraphobia”—a word which literally means “fear of the marketplace.” In a severe case of agoraphobia, the sufferer may become confined to their home, experiencing difficulty traveling from this “safe place.”

Spiritual agoraphobia is marked by a reluctance to speak of one’s faith outside the “safe place” of the church and the comfort zone of people to whom we most easily relate. A church of spiritual agoraphobics will not thrive. We must learn from Paul, who had no fear of taking the Gospel to the people where they were—the synagogue, the marketplace, the debating hall—and proclaiming there it in terms his audience could comprehend. Neither did he have any fear of rejection. Inspired and empowered by the Holy Spirit, equipped with a deep knowledge of Scripture and insight into the human condition, he persisted in proclaiming the Gospel wherever he went.

Not many people are as gifted as St. Paul. But all the baptized are empowered by the Holy Spirit, the “other Advocate” sent by Jesus—to teach, to lead, to comfort, and to guide—the Spirit of truth, with us at all times.

What can we do to overcome our agoraphobia?

·         Study the scriptures.

·         Learn from other people, through books and other media.

·         Learn who our audience is, striving at all times to speak in their language, not ours.

·         Trust in the Spirit’s guidance, and in our own calling to make new disciples. And above all…

·         Pray! —for wisdom and words and courage…

Let us then go boldly from this place to proclaim the Gospel to all who will hear. May we all be blessed in our sharing of the Good News.