Sunday, May 29, 2011: Acts 17:22–31; 1 Peter 3:13–22

Walk through most people's houses, and you'll quickly get a sense of what they love. The art on the walls, the books on the shelves, the kitchen gadgets, photographs, knickknacks and pets, the size and number of TVs—all reveal where the occupants' hearts lie.

A tour through most people's homes will also show you what they fear—especially if you're willing to poke around. Here are some of the fears my house would reveal. Locks on the doors and windows: invasion and theft. Fire extinguishers: destruction. Gate in the kitchen doorway: unsupervised interaction between giant dog and tiny son. Suction bulb syringes in every room: infant choking to death on his own vomit (the result of seeing a particularly graphic video at the hospital). Savings and retirement account statements: instability and poverty. Then there's—oh Lord—the medicine cabinet. Moisturizer: wrinkles. Sunscreen: skin cancer and wrinkles. Special shampoo: dandruff. Vitamins: wrinkles? Scurvy? You get the idea. Some of these items reflect prudence; others reflect more than a little silliness. All of them reveal fears.

The same could be said of Paul's tour through Athens. In one sense, all the idols and temples point to what the people of the city love: their gods and the virtues, blessings and graces they represent. In another sense, they show what the people fear: those same gods and the anger that the people will call down upon themselves if they fail to worship them properly. Of all that Paul sees, one thing speaks more eloquently of fear than the others: the altar to an unknown god, the one that's erected just in case there's a god out there whom the people haven't yet heard of but who is powerful enough to make them sorry should they offend him or her. Ever the opportunist, Paul tries to win the people over to his God by exploiting both the Athenians' fear and their prodigious capacity for devotion.