Preaching at Starbucks
Acts 17:22-32 ~ Paul’s Sermon at Athens
The Rev. Sarah Fanning – April 27, 2008
Pulpit Exchange - Clarkson Road Presbyterian Church, Mississauga
About seven years ago, I was standing in line at the local Starbucks when I ran into a man I had met a few times at various workshops and training events when I was working for CIBC in Hamilton. Lee and I exchanges greetings and engaged in the usual sort of niceties that are expected in conversations between people who are essentially strangers. One of the topics that’s usually covered in such moments is the subject of employment; so naturally, Lee asked if I was still working for CIBC. I paused; hesitated a bit, and then told him, “No, I’m a minister, with a church.”
He physically recoiled from me and his response was shocking. With scorn practically dripping from his lips, he sneered, “You don’t really believe all that crap do you?”
I was absolutely stunned. Fortunately by that time my coffee was ready. I stammered something like, “Well, yeah. Most of it anyway,” grabbed my cup of coffee and bolted out the door. It was an awful experience.
I don’t know as how I’ve ever felt such a mixture of emotions before or since. I felt humiliated, angry, embarrassed, disrespected, surprised, belittled, verbally assaulted, and somehow afraid and ashamed. I had no idea what to say to that man. I could no more respond to him in that moment than I could fly to the moon – and it made me so mad! – Although I didn’t know who to be mad at: him for being such a jerk or me for being so unable to respond, so incapable of defending my faith.
After all, I’d been to seminary! I thought I should have been able to handle an ambush like that – if not with a brilliant theological discourse, than certainly with a well-placed clever word or two. I felt pretty stupid – which of course is probably how he wanted me to feel. So when I read the story of Paul in the Acts of the Apostles today, I can’t help but be impressed.
Paul was in the city of Athens – the intellectual capital of the ancient world. The city was named after the Greek goddess of wisdom who was believed to have sprung full grown from the head of Zeus. Athens had been the home to those great philosophers Socrates and Plato; and the playwrights Aeschylus, Aristophanes, and Sophocles produced the finest works of Greek theatre there.
Beyond the philosophical and intellectual capacity of the city, Athens was also known for its interest in all things religious, which was fascinating to our apostle Paul. Everywhere he walked throughout the city, Paul saw evidence of the Athenians’ piety. He had seen the countless temples, altars and statues, each raised to a different god or goddess.
So thoroughly pious were the Athenians, that in addition to erecting monuments to all the gods and goddesses they could think of, they constructed one “To an Unknown God” just in case they had overlooked some minor deity who would be insulted by the monumental slight and choose to reek vengeance upon the city. All matters of religion were thoroughly thought out, talked over, deliberated and debated. It was a perfect venue for our friend Paul.
Fresh from being thrown out of Antioch and Thessalonica for preaching the gospel, Paul was all warmed up and ready to engage the Athenians in good conversation about the God he believed in and about Jesus the Christ, who he had experienced in his vision on the road to Damascus.
When the people of the Areopagus, the city council of Athens, invited him to speak about his God there in the town square, Paul constructed his argument magnificently. He starts off by affirming the piety of his audience. “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way.” He lets them know he respects them. Then he grabs hold of the Altar to an Unknown God and uses it as the springboard into his testimony.
Paul goes on to quote from a couple of their own poets to show his respect for their culture and to build his case: “We too are God’s children” and “God is the One in whom we live and move and have our being”. His whole speech is culturally sensitive and respectful. He doesn’t demand that they accept his conclusions about God; he simply meets the Athenians on their own theological and philosophical turf, honouring them as earnest seekers of God. In short, he shares his faith.
Sharing our faith is one of the challenges that we face as part of mainline churches. We have a tough time telling people what it is we believe, and why. But religious conservatives rarely have this problem. They have successfully boiled their beliefs down to some very brass tacks, which sometimes get pushed into every issue that can be found.
Folks who are of the more mainline persuasion don’t really like the brass tack approach. We resist simplistic approaches to most every subject because rarely is anything all that simple. Nuance abounds, shades of grey fill the areas between black and white. The problem is, in our attempts to honour complexity; we fail to grasp the simple truths that we all can proclaim.
Remember our responsive psalm for this morning? Psalm 66 has a beautifully simple message: God loves us. God is with us. God cherishes justice. That’s what the people of Israel believed. It’s what they sang and shouted for the entire world to hear. And it’s what I believe, too: God loves us, God is with us, and God cherishes justice.
As I think about that conversation in Starbucks seven years ago, I wish I had another chance at it, because now, I think I have something to say to Lee. Something real, something clear, and something even he could hear.
I think that I now understand what Lee was really asking me that day. I don’t think he was asking me to defend all the creeds and formal teaching of the Church, whatever that is. I think in his own rather gruff way, he was asking what I believe. I think he was asking what I believe because I have a hunch that he had no idea of what he believed.
There is a wonderful poem by American Mary Oliver called “West Wind” which for me, calls to mind the voice of God: (poem on screen) “You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing. But listen to me.”
Listen to me. We’ve heard God’s instructions to listen before: at the baptism of Jesus, on the mountain where Jesus was transfigured, to name just two.
God says to us “Stop rowing and pay attention for a moment, because as enthusiastic as you are, you have no idea what you’re doing or which direction you should be going. Now pay attention. It’s really very simple: you are to be rowing toward the sounds of God in the world. Sure, life without love, life without God, is possible, but it’s not worth a bent penny, or a scuffed shoe.” Pay attention.
The poet says that when you hear the churning sound of God in the world, even though it’s a kilometre away and still out of sight, don’t hesitate: row towards it. Row for your life towards it.
The spewing and fretting the Lee was making was really the sound of God working in someone’s heart – it was the sound of someone looking for God. But all I could see were the sharp rocks, and I got scared and rowed the other way! What I was supposed to do was head right into the rapids and dare to tell him what I believe – that God is love; that God is with us, and that God cherishes justice; and because of that, I have to do certain things in my life – like go to church, and be active in a community that treasures one another and holds one another accountable, and do the work I can do to bring more justice, more love and more joy into the world because that’s what God is about. That’s what Jesus was here to tell us and show us.
We simply must learn to talk about our faith. We have to be able to articulate our beliefs, not just because it will make a difference in the political and civic worlds, but because there are a lot of folks out there who want to know that there is more to Christianity than those pointy brass tacks of our more conservative brothers and sisters. They want to hear the Good News of the Gospel.
When Paul got to Athens, he heard the rush of God working in the rapids and he moved toward it. He stated his case kindly and clearly and didn’t try to beat his beliefs into the heads of his listeners. He preached the Good News, shared his faith, and that was enough.
Like the people of Athens, the people of our day are also seeking, grasping for the One who is not really far away from any of us, and they need to hear our stories. We may not be as eloquent as Paul, but don’t let that bother you. After all, what was most compelling in Athens likely won’t fly here anyway. The most compelling statement of faith is yours. You do know what you believe. God loves us. God is with us. Justice matters.
And don’t ever be afraid to row towards the sound of the rushing water. It’s just God working in the rapids, and no matter what you think, you’re never in that boat alone. Thanks be to God! Amen.
The Rev. Sarah Fanning – April 27, 2008
Pulpit Exchange - Clarkson Road Presbyterian Church, Mississauga
About seven years ago, I was standing in line at the local Starbucks when I ran into a man I had met a few times at various workshops and training events when I was working for CIBC in Hamilton. Lee and I exchanges greetings and engaged in the usual sort of niceties that are expected in conversations between people who are essentially strangers. One of the topics that’s usually covered in such moments is the subject of employment; so naturally, Lee asked if I was still working for CIBC. I paused; hesitated a bit, and then told him, “No, I’m a minister, with a church.”
He physically recoiled from me and his response was shocking. With scorn practically dripping from his lips, he sneered, “You don’t really believe all that crap do you?”
I was absolutely stunned. Fortunately by that time my coffee was ready. I stammered something like, “Well, yeah. Most of it anyway,” grabbed my cup of coffee and bolted out the door. It was an awful experience.
I don’t know as how I’ve ever felt such a mixture of emotions before or since. I felt humiliated, angry, embarrassed, disrespected, surprised, belittled, verbally assaulted, and somehow afraid and ashamed. I had no idea what to say to that man. I could no more respond to him in that moment than I could fly to the moon – and it made me so mad! – Although I didn’t know who to be mad at: him for being such a jerk or me for being so unable to respond, so incapable of defending my faith.
After all, I’d been to seminary! I thought I should have been able to handle an ambush like that – if not with a brilliant theological discourse, than certainly with a well-placed clever word or two. I felt pretty stupid – which of course is probably how he wanted me to feel. So when I read the story of Paul in the Acts of the Apostles today, I can’t help but be impressed.
Paul was in the city of Athens – the intellectual capital of the ancient world. The city was named after the Greek goddess of wisdom who was believed to have sprung full grown from the head of Zeus. Athens had been the home to those great philosophers Socrates and Plato; and the playwrights Aeschylus, Aristophanes, and Sophocles produced the finest works of Greek theatre there.
Beyond the philosophical and intellectual capacity of the city, Athens was also known for its interest in all things religious, which was fascinating to our apostle Paul. Everywhere he walked throughout the city, Paul saw evidence of the Athenians’ piety. He had seen the countless temples, altars and statues, each raised to a different god or goddess.
So thoroughly pious were the Athenians, that in addition to erecting monuments to all the gods and goddesses they could think of, they constructed one “To an Unknown God” just in case they had overlooked some minor deity who would be insulted by the monumental slight and choose to reek vengeance upon the city. All matters of religion were thoroughly thought out, talked over, deliberated and debated. It was a perfect venue for our friend Paul.
Fresh from being thrown out of Antioch and Thessalonica for preaching the gospel, Paul was all warmed up and ready to engage the Athenians in good conversation about the God he believed in and about Jesus the Christ, who he had experienced in his vision on the road to Damascus.
When the people of the Areopagus, the city council of Athens, invited him to speak about his God there in the town square, Paul constructed his argument magnificently. He starts off by affirming the piety of his audience. “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way.” He lets them know he respects them. Then he grabs hold of the Altar to an Unknown God and uses it as the springboard into his testimony.
Paul goes on to quote from a couple of their own poets to show his respect for their culture and to build his case: “We too are God’s children” and “God is the One in whom we live and move and have our being”. His whole speech is culturally sensitive and respectful. He doesn’t demand that they accept his conclusions about God; he simply meets the Athenians on their own theological and philosophical turf, honouring them as earnest seekers of God. In short, he shares his faith.
Sharing our faith is one of the challenges that we face as part of mainline churches. We have a tough time telling people what it is we believe, and why. But religious conservatives rarely have this problem. They have successfully boiled their beliefs down to some very brass tacks, which sometimes get pushed into every issue that can be found.
Folks who are of the more mainline persuasion don’t really like the brass tack approach. We resist simplistic approaches to most every subject because rarely is anything all that simple. Nuance abounds, shades of grey fill the areas between black and white. The problem is, in our attempts to honour complexity; we fail to grasp the simple truths that we all can proclaim.
Remember our responsive psalm for this morning? Psalm 66 has a beautifully simple message: God loves us. God is with us. God cherishes justice. That’s what the people of Israel believed. It’s what they sang and shouted for the entire world to hear. And it’s what I believe, too: God loves us, God is with us, and God cherishes justice.
As I think about that conversation in Starbucks seven years ago, I wish I had another chance at it, because now, I think I have something to say to Lee. Something real, something clear, and something even he could hear.
I think that I now understand what Lee was really asking me that day. I don’t think he was asking me to defend all the creeds and formal teaching of the Church, whatever that is. I think in his own rather gruff way, he was asking what I believe. I think he was asking what I believe because I have a hunch that he had no idea of what he believed.
There is a wonderful poem by American Mary Oliver called “West Wind” which for me, calls to mind the voice of God: (poem on screen) “You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing. But listen to me.”
Listen to me. We’ve heard God’s instructions to listen before: at the baptism of Jesus, on the mountain where Jesus was transfigured, to name just two.
God says to us “Stop rowing and pay attention for a moment, because as enthusiastic as you are, you have no idea what you’re doing or which direction you should be going. Now pay attention. It’s really very simple: you are to be rowing toward the sounds of God in the world. Sure, life without love, life without God, is possible, but it’s not worth a bent penny, or a scuffed shoe.” Pay attention.
The poet says that when you hear the churning sound of God in the world, even though it’s a kilometre away and still out of sight, don’t hesitate: row towards it. Row for your life towards it.
The spewing and fretting the Lee was making was really the sound of God working in someone’s heart – it was the sound of someone looking for God. But all I could see were the sharp rocks, and I got scared and rowed the other way! What I was supposed to do was head right into the rapids and dare to tell him what I believe – that God is love; that God is with us, and that God cherishes justice; and because of that, I have to do certain things in my life – like go to church, and be active in a community that treasures one another and holds one another accountable, and do the work I can do to bring more justice, more love and more joy into the world because that’s what God is about. That’s what Jesus was here to tell us and show us.
We simply must learn to talk about our faith. We have to be able to articulate our beliefs, not just because it will make a difference in the political and civic worlds, but because there are a lot of folks out there who want to know that there is more to Christianity than those pointy brass tacks of our more conservative brothers and sisters. They want to hear the Good News of the Gospel.
When Paul got to Athens, he heard the rush of God working in the rapids and he moved toward it. He stated his case kindly and clearly and didn’t try to beat his beliefs into the heads of his listeners. He preached the Good News, shared his faith, and that was enough.
Like the people of Athens, the people of our day are also seeking, grasping for the One who is not really far away from any of us, and they need to hear our stories. We may not be as eloquent as Paul, but don’t let that bother you. After all, what was most compelling in Athens likely won’t fly here anyway. The most compelling statement of faith is yours. You do know what you believe. God loves us. God is with us. Justice matters.
And don’t ever be afraid to row towards the sound of the rushing water. It’s just God working in the rapids, and no matter what you think, you’re never in that boat alone. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Comments