Bridging Worlds: Paul in Athens
Readings: Acts 17:16-31 Preacher: Kevin Kim
In Acts of the Apostles 17, we meet Paul in Athens—a city full of ideas, questions, and idols. It’s the cultural and intellectual centre of the ancient world. And as Paul looks around, he is deeply stirred. But what’s striking is what he does next. He doesn’t walk away. He doesn’t attack. He begins to engage.
Paul steps into conversation—in the synagogue, in the marketplace, and eventually in the Areopagus. He listens, observes, and connects. He speaks in ways people can understand, even drawing on their own language and culture. And yet, at the same time, he holds firmly to the heart of the gospel—pointing to the God they do not yet know, revealed in Jesus Christ.
This sermon reflects on that movement in Paul’s ministry—his courage to speak, and his care to connect. The gospel does not change, but the way we share it often needs to. Paul shows us what it means to take people seriously, to meet them where they are, and to gently and faithfully invite them toward Christ.
As we sit with this story, we might ask ourselves: what does it look like for us to live this way today? In a world full of voices, ideas, and distractions, how might we become people who don’t withdraw, but engage—who don’t dilute the gospel, but communicate it with wisdom and grace?
Reflection Questions
Exploring the Passage
Paul is “greatly distressed” by the idols in Athens, yet he chooses to engage rather than withdraw.
What stands out to you about the way Paul responds? Why do you think this matters?
Paul begins with, “I see that you are very religious,” and uses the “unknown god” as a bridge.
What does this teach us about how to speak about faith with people who think differently?
People respond in different ways—some mock, some are curious, some believe.
How does this shape your expectations of sharing the gospel today?
Reflecting on Our World
In the sermon, we asked: “What is shaping me?”
What do you think is shaping your attention, desires, or identity most right now?
Paul saw visible idols in Athens.
What might be the “modern altars” in our world—or even in your own life?
Personal and Practical
In the sermon, we asked:
Where is your attention going? What do you turn to for meaning?
Which of these questions speaks most strongly to you right now, and why?
Paul builds connection, then speaks clearly about God, Jesus, and the resurrection.
Which do you find harder—connecting with people, or speaking about your faith? Why?
Paul becomes a “bridge” between God and people.
What might it look like for you to be a bridge in one relationship this week?
Going Deeper (Optional if time allows)
We are not responsible for the outcome—but for faithfulness.
What does faithfulness look like for you in your current context?
Sermon Text
When we come to Acts of the Apostles 17, we find Paul in a very different place.
He’s no longer in the synagogue alone.
He’s no longer among people who already know the Scriptures.
He’s in Athens.
A city full of ideas. A city full of philosophies.
A city full of gods.
But before we stay in Athens for too long, it’s worth remembering where Paul has just come from.
Because Acts 17 is not just one scene—it’s a movement.
In Thessalonica—right at the beginning of chapter 17, in verses 1 to 9—Paul begins with Scripture.
He opens it. He explains it.
He carefully shows them that Jesus is the Messiah.
And for some people… that’s enough.
They hear it, they receive it,
and they believe.
But not everyone.
Others hear the same message… and they resist. Strongly.
And suddenly, what began as a conversation becomes conflict.
Because the gospel has a way of doing that.
It doesn’t just comfort—it confronts.
Then Paul moves on to Berea—in verses 10 to 15.
And the response there is different.
People listen—eagerly.
They lean in. They want to understand.
But they don’t just accept what Paul says straight away.
They go back to the Scriptures. They read. They examine.
They weigh what they are hearing.
And there is something really beautiful about that.
Because faith here is not blind.
It’s not passive. It’s thoughtful. It’s discerning.
And again—many believe.
But even here… the story doesn’t stay peaceful for long.
Opposition follows. It catches up with Paul.
So before Paul even reaches Athens—which is where our reading begins today, from verse 16—
we begin to see a pattern emerging.
The same gospel… but very different responses.
Conflict. Discernment.
And it leaves us with a question.
Not just for them—but for us.
How do we share an unchanging message…
in a constantly changing world?
And now—Athens.
As Paul walks through the streets…
he sees it.
Statues. Temples. Altars everywhere.
And we are told—his spirit is deeply troubled.
“While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was greatly distressed to see that the city was full of idols.”
Not mildly uncomfortable.
Not slightly concerned.
Deeply moved.
That word matters.
The Greek word used here—paroxynetō—means to be provoked at the deepest level.
This is not irritation.
This is grief.
It echoes the heart of God in the Old Testament.
In Jeremiah 2, God says:
“My people have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns…”
Broken cisterns that cannot hold water.
That is what Paul sees.
People searching. People worshipping.
People giving themselves to something—
that cannot give them life.
But here is the question.
What does he do with that?
Because this is where it matters for us.
Paul does not walk away.
Paul does not stand at a distance and criticise.
Paul does not say, “This place is too far gone.”
He steps in. He engages.
He goes to the synagogue. He goes to the marketplace.
He talks with whoever happens to be there.
Philosophers. Thinkers. Ordinary people.
That detail—marketplace—is important.
Because it shows us that Paul’s ministry is not confined to religious spaces.
He enters everyday life.
And eventually, he is invited to speak at the Areopagus—
the centre of intellectual conversation in Athens.
And when he speaks…
he does something quite remarkable.
He doesn’t begin with Scripture.
He doesn’t quote Moses or the prophets.
Instead, he begins here:
“I see that you are very religious.”
And then he says—
“I even found an altar… to an unknown god.”
“What you worship as unknown…
I am going to make known to you.”
Do you see what he’s doing?
He starts where they are.
He listens. He observes. He connects.
He takes something from their world—
and uses it as a bridge to speak about God.
Paul is not changing the gospel.
But he is translating it.
He is, as someone once said,
“bringing the message of heaven into the language of earth.”
And then—he begins to unfold the truth.
He speaks of God as Creator:
“The God who made the world and everything in it…” (Acts 17:24)
This echoes Genesis 1.
God is not one among many. He is the source of all.
Then Paul says:
“He is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything” (v.25)
This challenges the entire system of idol worship.
Because idols depend on people.
But the true God gives life.
“He himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else” (v.25)
And then comes one of the most beautiful lines:
“In him we live and move and have our being” (v.28)
Paul is drawing them in.
He is moving from what they know… to what they do not yet know.
And even here—he quotes their own poets.
“We are his offspring.”
Again—he is building a bridge.
But then—everything shifts.
Because Paul does not stop at connection.
He speaks clearly.
“God now commands all people everywhere to repent” (Acts 17:30)
This is not suggestion.
This is invitation… with urgency.
And why? Because:
“He has set a day when he will judge the world… and has given proof… by raising him from the dead” (v.31)
The resurrection.
This is the centre.
As Paul writes elsewhere:
“If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless” (1 Corinthians 15:14).
And here we see something crucial.
Paul adapts his starting point.
But he does not change his message.
And what happens?
Some laugh.
Some are curious.
Some believe.
Just like Thessalonica.
Just like Berea.
Different responses.
Same gospel.
And that reminds us—
we are not responsible for the outcome.
We are responsible for faithfulness.
Now—this speaks directly to us.
Because we don’t live in Athens.
But we do live in a world just as full of voices.
Just as full of ideas.
Just as full of… idols.
Let me put it like this.
If Paul were to walk through Sydney today…
What would he see?
Would it be the Opera House?
Or would it be something else?
Something we carry in our pockets.
Something we look at constantly.
And this is where something like The Social Dilemma becomes really helpful for us.
It’s a documentary—originally on Netflix—
that looks at how social media and technology are designed,
and how they shape the way we think, feel, and live.
Because it helps us see something we often don’t notice.
That the world we think we are freely choosing…
is actually shaping us.
Our attention is being directed.
Our desires are being formed.
Our identity is being influenced—often without us realising it.
The more we scroll…
the more we look…
the more we seek affirmation—
through likes, comments, responses—
on platforms like Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, and Facebook—
the more we are being drawn into a system.
A system that is designed to hold our attention.
To keep us there.
To shape what we see… and even what we want.
And slowly—almost quietly—something begins to happen.
We begin to give ourselves to it.
Our time. Our focus. Our emotional energy.
And we don’t call it worship.
But if we’re honest…
it starts to look a lot like it.
Paul walked through Athens and saw temples made of stone.
If he walked through our world today,
he might not see statues.
But he might see something just as powerful—
systems that shape our hearts.
Habits that shape our desires.
Voices that quietly tell us
what matters…
what is worth pursuing…
what defines us.
And so the question becomes even more personal.
Not just “what do I believe?”
But:
What is shaping me?
What is forming my desires?
What is quietly discipling my heart… every day?
Because whatever shapes your attention…
is shaping your worship.
And this is where I want to bring in something you might recognise.
There’s a speech by David Foster Wallace—called ‘This Is Water’.
He gave it as a graduation speech back in 2005, to students at Kenyon College.
And it became really well known.
Let’s watch this—
of course, this isn’t a Christian or Bible-based message—
it’s simply a speech given to university graduates.
But it does point us to something important:
we all worship something…
and that invites us to reflect on what is shaping our hearts today.
He says:
“There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships something.”
And he’s right.
Because Scripture tells us we were made to worship.
The question is not if we worship— but what we worship.
And Wallace says:
If you worship money—you will never have enough.
If you worship beauty—you will always feel inadequate.
If you worship power—you will live in fear.
These are modern idols.
And often, we don’t even realise it’s happening.
Because these things don’t demand worship loudly—
they invite it quietly.
Little by little, moment by moment,
our attention is drawn, our desires are shaped, our lives are formed.
And we don’t call it worship.
But Paul might.
So here is the question for us.
Where is your attention going?
What do you turn to for meaning?
What shapes the way you see yourself?
What do you rely on… when life feels uncertain?
Because those things—those places—
may well be our modern altars.
Now here’s the challenge.
Paul doesn’t just see the idols.
He moves toward the people.
He enters conversation.
He builds connection.
And this is the heart of what I want us to hear today.
Sharing the gospel is not just about speaking.
It is about engaging.
It is about stepping into people’s worlds.
Listening. Understanding. Connecting.
Paul becomes, in a sense—
a bridge between God and people.
And yet—he doesn’t stop there.
Because after he connects…
he speaks clearly.
About God. About repentance. About Jesus.
About the resurrection.
And this is where we are called to follow.
Not to withdraw.
Not to judge from a distance.
Not to compromise the gospel.
But to do what Paul does.
To engage.
To listen.
To connect.
To translate.
And to speak.
Gently. Wisely. Faithfully.
And perhaps most importantly—
to carry within us that same holy discomfort.
Not anger at people.
But a deep awareness that life without God…
is not life as it was meant to be.
You don’t need to speak at the Areopagus.
But you are still called… to be a bridge.
To carry the presence of God into everyday places.
To speak in ways people can understand.
To live in such a way that points—
not to ourselves—but to Christ.
The gospel does not change.
But the way we share it must meet people where they are.
And so may we become people who do not withdraw… but engage.
Who do not react… but respond.
Who do not lose the gospel…
but carry it faithfully—
into the world God has placed us in.
Amen.