Provoked to Proclaim (Acts 17:16-34)

Psalm 17:16-34

THIS IS THE WORD OF THE LORD

THANKS BE TO GOD

INTRO:

When I first felt the call to plant the Garden Church it did not arrive with clarity or excitement, but rather, it began through a God given restlessness.

The Spirit was stirring an uneasiness in me that I couldn’t shake. And as that happened, God began to heighten my awareness of the people around me.

I saw people I loved wrestling with the idols of our culture, like work and sexuality and money. And I saw others leaving the church with no plans to ever return.

And as I started asking questions, I began to see that some churches didn’t understand why they even did the things that they did.

Some had inherited outdated discipleship models and leadership styles that needed to be rethought and reformed in light of God’s Word, and the actual needs of their community.

And as I continued wrestling with God’s Word and asking questions of other Pastors, and church leaders, I was led into seminary and a series of residencies, which eventually led to the planting of this church.

All because the Spirit stirred something within me.

And as I was thinking about that, I was reminded of the first time my wife and I really unpacked the gospel.

It was under the carport of Toby and Baily Mize’s house.

And years later I would find out, they felt stirred by the Spirit to specifically teach Miss Kathi and I in that season.

Which led me to ask them, who really helped you understand the gospel?

And apart from each other, Toby said it was his grandma Janet—who had been provoked by the Spirit to share with him. And she learned it from her grandpa—who had been provoked to share with her.

And then I discovered that one of her grandfather’s brothers was a man named E. M. Bounds—a Methodist minister known for his life of prayer.

Which is amazing, because the first sermon I ever preached was at Bethesda Methodist Church near Millsap, and it was on prayer. And my primary teacher for that sermon was Toby’s great-great uncle, E. M. Bounds.

It’s just incredible how God works through our families and through our stories to move His kingdom forward.

And I know we could keep going backwards in each of our stories and be amazed at how He has worked, but one thing is for certain, we are all sitting here today because someone, somewhere was provoked by the Spirit to proclaim the gospel.

Something we clearly see in the last half of Acts 17.

Paul comes to this new place alone, when the spirit stirs something within him.

Provoked by Idolatry

Let’s read,

Acts 17:16–17 ESV

Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols. So he reasoned in the synagogue with the Jews and the devout persons, and in the marketplace every day with those who happened to be there.

The last time we saw Paul, he was being sent away from Berea. Silas and Timothy stayed behind, and he found himself alone in Athens…waiting.

By this point, Athens was no longer the political powerhouse it once was, but it was still culturally elite. This was the city of Socrates and Plato—the adopted home of Aristotle, Epicurus, and Zeno. Philosophical thinkers we still study today.

And because of it’s intellectual legacy, Rome allowed Athens to remain a free and allied city within the empire.

And as Paul stands within this city, waiting…not strategizing or planning, but waiting, Luke tells us:

“His spirit was provoked within him, as he saw that the city was full of idols.”

Paul doesn’t marvel at the architecture. He doesn’t applaud the intellect. He notices the idols.

And this brother grew up as a student of the Decalogue—the Ten Commandments—and those first two commandments were not abstract theology to him:

“You shall have no other gods before me.” “You shall not make for yourself a carved image…”

So when Paul sees a city filled with idols, he’s provoked—not with anger, but with grief.

Because he’s watching people exchange the glory of the Creator for created things—exactly what he later describes in Romans 1.

And church, let’s be clear: idols aren’t just ancient statues.

An idol is anything you turn to for something only Jesus can provide.

They are functional saviors. They promise identity. Security. Peace. Meaning.

And they always overpromise—and underdeliver.

King David says this plainly in Psalm 16:

“The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply.”

And Paul knows this.

So when he’s provoked, he doesn’t rage at Athens—he moves toward her.

And that’s something we have to wrestle with.

When we proclaim the gospel, are we angry at people? Do we just want to be right? Or are we heartbroken for them?

So Paul moves toward them, reasoning with the Jews and the devout people in the synagogue, and also reasoning with those who were in the marketplace.

Notice that.

He goes to the synagogue—where Scripture already matters. But he also goes to the marketplace—where life is happening.

Teaching according to his custom by beginning in the synagogues, but also following the public teaching style of the culture—much like Socrates and Plato—asking questions, listening, creating space for dialogue.

Paul knew how much they valued education and ideas, and so he meets them where they are, not where he wants them to be.

CHUNK

Let’s keep reading,

Acts 17:18–21 ESV

Some of the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers also conversed with him. And some said, “What does this babbler wish to say?” Others said, “He seems to be a preacher of foreign divinities”—because he was preaching Jesus and the resurrection. And they took him and brought him to the Areopagus, saying, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are presenting? For you bring some strange things to our ears. We wish to know therefore what these things mean.” Now all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there would spend their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new.

These Epicurean and Stoic philosophers are not warm, spiritually curious people. They are intellectual skeptics. Wired to doubt unless you could convince them otherwise.

Epicureans believed the goal of life was pleasure. That there was no divine involvement in life, just an invitation to “enjoy it while you can.”

If you were to sum up their philosophy in a single sentence it would be, “If it feels good, do it.”

Stoics on the other hand, believed everything was governed by fate. God was not personal—just a force woven into the universe.

Their philosophy in a single sentence it would be, “Grin and bear it. There’s nothing you can do anyway.”

Two very different philosophies. Same empty conclusion.

And both groups hear Paul and some of them say:

“What does this babbler wish to say?”

That word babbler was slang. It meant “seed-picker.” Someone who picks up scraps of ideas and tries to sell them as something new.

Others said:

“He seems to be a preacher of foreign divinities.”

Why?

“Because he was preaching Jesus and the resurrection.”

To some of them, “Jesus” which would be Yay-Seuss, and “resurrection” which would Ana-sta-sees, sounded like two new gods. Athens had room for any god—just not a risen King who demands repentance.

And so they take Paul to the Areopagus—also called Mars Hill—named after Ares, the Greek god of war.

And it’s important to note that this wasn’t a criminal trial. This was an examination.

The Areopagus was a respected council dealing with religion and morals. Luke tells us they brought Paul there so he could explain his teaching before experts.

PROCLAIMING CONTEXTUALLY

So Paul standing there in the middle of the Aeropagus, speaks, beginning in verse 22:

“Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious.”

Now pause right there. Paul is doing something incredibly wise.

He’s establishing a point of contact.

He’s not affirming their idolatry—but he’s acknowledging what’s true: they are spiritual people. They care. They search. They build altars. They ask questions. They want meaning.

And this is where many Christians:

compromise to be liked, or

condemn without listening.

But Paul does neither.

He has cultural humility. Knowing that the gospel does not oppose what is true—but redeems it––by giving us a worldview that re-centers everything around the Creator.

This is what we call contextualization.

This is not changing the gospel, or watering it down. But it is removing unnecessary barriers so people can actually hear the message.

But then he moves from a point of contact to a point of conflict:

Saying:

“For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription: ‘To the unknown god.’ What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.”

He’s basically saying: “You’ve got an altar for a god you don’t know. Let me tell you… He’s not unknown. He has revealed Himself.”

And then Paul drops some theology on these dudes.

“The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man…”

Right away, Paul is correcting the Stoics and the Epicureans.

To the Stoics, who blurred God into creation, Paul says: God is distinct from creation. He is Lord over it. To the Epicureans, who saw the gods as detached and uninterested, Paul says: God is not absent—He is active. Giving life and breath and everything.

And then Paul says:

“Nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything…”

In other words: God is not needy. He is not impressed. He is not dependent on you.

In fact, Paul says the opposite:

“Since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything.”

God doesn’t need your strength—He gives you strength. God doesn’t need your breath—He gives you breath. God doesn’t need your offering—He owns the cattle on a thousand hills.

This is Psalm 50:

“If I were hungry, I would not tell you… for the world and its fullness are mine.”

So Paul is saying: “You’ve been living like God exists to serve you. But actually the only reason you exist is because God has served you.”

And then Paul says something incredible:

“And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth…”

That one line destroys any illusion of superiority.

Athens was proud—intellectual elite. Paul says: “All humans come from one man.”

One origin. One humanity. No room for superiority—racial, cultural, national, class—none of it.

And then:

“having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place…”

That’s sovereignty. That’s providence.

Paul is saying: you didn’t end up in Athens by accident. God put you in your time and place.

And why?

“that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him…”

God arranged your life—not just so you would build your résumé— but so you would seek Him and help others seek Him.

And then Paul says:

“Yet he is actually not far from each one of us…”

God is near.

Now—church family—let me bring that into our zip code.

Have you ever wondered why you live where you live?

I tried most of my life to get out of Weatherford, Texas.

And Paul is saying: God determines our allotted periods and boundaries. He made us for today. He made us for this place. He wired you with your gifts, your story, your burdens, your experiences—on purpose.

And we so often want someone like Paul, or Peter, or Augustine, or Spurgeon to come along and lead us into our next new season as the church,

But I need you to hear me this morning:

No one else is coming.

God put us here for such a time as this—to know Him and help others know Him. And He is not far from any of us.

So we pray. We contend. We labor. We plant. We disciple. We invite. We love. We speak.

And I want to say this pastorally but firmly:

I am not interested in entertaining you. I’m not interested in creating a comfortable room where you can just vent about the world and go home unchanged.

I am interested in your spiritual growth and mine.

I am committed to gathering with you, helping you discover His voice and your gifting.

I am committed to help you see that God’s Word is worth wrestling with—in community. I am committed to helping you learn how to pray and how to follow His Spirit.

I am committed to turning your eyes toward Jesus, who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us.

And sometimes, as we seek Him, it feels like we’re “feeling our way toward Him,” as Paul says in verse 27.

That language Paul uses suggests sin. We’re not neutral seekers. We’re groping in the dark. We need grace. We need the Spirit to give eyes. It’s why we contend for the souls in this room, and in this city and in this world.

God is near—but we need the Holy Spirit to open eyes to see our need for Jesus.

Paul doesn’t end there, but contextualizes yet again by quoting their poets:

“In him we live and move and have our being…” “For we are indeed his offspring.”

Now Paul isn’t saying, “Everything your poets believe is true.” He’s saying, “Even your poets have caught glimpses of reality because all truth is God’s truth—and I’m going to redeem what’s true and show you where it leads.”

Paul is using their language to build a bridge to the gospel.

And this is where we need wisdom today.

Yes, we can use points of contact in culture—songs, stories, shows, art—because culture is always preaching a worldview. But we do it with caution. We guard our minds. We don’t trade Scripture for entertainment. We don’t get discipled by the very things we’re trying to engage.

But we also don’t retreat.

We meet people where they are… using cultural elements of the world around us, to lead them where they need to be…into the arms of the Father through the gospel of grace.

I’ll give you an example:

My dad is not a believer, but him and I love music. We have bonded deeply throughout the years through listening to music.

And I am able to tell him, “Dad, you know that incredible feeling we get in the middle of Pink Floyd’s Time, or Jimi Hendrix’s Little Wing? That beautiful feeling of longing for something so much more than what this world can give us? Well when that song is over, an unbeliever will be bummed until they hear that song again. But a believer gets to hear that song and say, what kind of a God would give us the faculties to make sense of such a complex piece of music? What kind of a God would give us the ability to emotionally experience a piece of art?”

The beauty of being a believer is that our joy will not terminate on a gift…that’s idolatry…but gifts will always point us back to their source.

PROMPTING TO REPENTANCE

Continuing in

Acts 17:29 ESV

Being then God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man.

In other words—if God made us, then we don’t get to remake Him.

God is not a thing we can form with our imagination, or build with our hands, no matter how valuable the material or how skilled the craftsman.

And that is important, because all that we can imagine or build, we can control. And that’s the problem.

Idols don’t confront us. They don’t contradict us. And they don’t call us to repent.

They bend to our imagination.

Paul says We are made in His image, He is not made in ours.

And the season of being ignorant of this is over.

“The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent…”

That is not soft language.

He says: repent.

Turn. Lay it down. Abandon the false gods. Change direction.

Why?

“Because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed…”

So all of history is not some random series of events. It is not drifting aimlessly to who knows where.

History is moving toward a day.

A fixed day. An appointed day of righteous judgment.

And that judgment has been entrusted to a Man…Jesus.

And then Paul brings them to the climax of his entire sermon:

“And of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.”

And the response is immediate.

Luke tells us:

“Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked.”

Of course they did.

The resurrection confronts every worldview.

It offends the Epicureans—because pleasure isn’t the end. It offends the Stoics—because fate isn’t in control. It offends modern skeptics—because truth is not negotiable.

Some mocked and dismissed Paul entirely.

But others said:

“We will hear you again about this.”

Curious—but noncommittal.

Interested—but unchanged.

We see this a lot in the church. People interested in information, not transformation.

And then Luke gives us this quiet, beautiful line:

“But some men joined him and believed…”

Not a revival. Not a church plant.

Just some.

And Luke names two of them: Dionysius… and a woman named Damaris.

We don’t know much about them.

No backstory. No testimony video. No follow-up letter in the New Testament called First Athenians.

Paul leaves Athens shortly after this.

No mention of baptisms. No established church that we can see.

By worldly standards? This looks like a failure.

But it wasn’t.

Because Paul was faithful to the Spirit’s provocation.

And the thing that tripped Athens up is the same thing that trips people up today:

The resurrection.

We tend to ask Jesus a lot of heavy questions.

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” “Why is the world so broken?” “Why doesn’t God fix this?” “Why would a loving God judge anyone?”

And listen—I’ve asked all of those questions. I still ask hard questions.

And He can handle it, remember that’s what we talked about a few weeks ago, we can bring Him our doubts and our questions.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

Jesus did not pointedly answer every question we could ask.

But he did answer the only question that ultimately matters.

Are you really who you say you are?

And the resurrection answers that question.

If Jesus is risen— Then everything He said is true. Then the Bible is worth wrestling with. Then repentance makes sense. Then hope is real. Then death does not get the final word.

I love how Tim Keller says it,

God did not give us a watertight argument.

He gave us a watertight Person.

And He gave us assurance—not through philosophy, or through speculation—but through an empty tomb.

The mystery of all history is summed up in Jesus the Christ. You don’t need all the answers, you just need faith that He is who He says He is.

Proclaim Jesus as the Christ and leave the results to God.

And through Paul’s example, we are given a frustratingly simple template of how to live this out.

First — we must be willing to be LED BY THE SPIRIT. Remember Paul didn’t plan Athens. He just showed up and waited.

He noticed what provoked his spirit—and he followed the Holy Spirit into obedience.

We have to tune our hearts to hear His voice. Through time in His Word. Consistent prayer. Fellowship and moments free of distraction.

Second — we must be willing to MEET PEOPLE WHERE THEY ARE. Paul didn’t start with Scripture they didn’t know. He started with a God they sensed but couldn’t name.

That takes humility. It takes listening. It takes knowing the gospel and knowing people.

You can’t contextualize what you don’t understand. And you can’t love people you refuse to learn.

And finally — we must TIE EVERYTHING TO THE FINISHED WORK OF JESUS. Paul doesn’t end with philosophy or culture.

He ends with the resurrection.

Because that’s where God’s assurance lies.

Some will mock. Some will delay. Some—by grace—will believe.

LET’S PRAY

CALL TO COMMUNION

Church, He is not far from any one of you.

If we believe who He is and what He has done we are invited to the table.

As baptized believers, we learn to live out the death and resurrection of Jesus, again and again.

We come to this table not because we must, but because we may.

Not because we are strong, but because we are weak.

Not because any goodness of our own gives us a right to come, but because we are in need of mercy and help.

We come because we love the Lord— and because we would like to love Him more.

And we come to meet the risen Christ.

Together.

For we are His body.

So take a moment. Examine your heart. Confess what needs to be laid down. Repent where the Spirit has stirred you.

And then—when you’re ready— come.

Come to the table of grace. Come to the risen King.

BENEDICTION:

Psalm 96:1–6 ESV

Oh sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth! Sing to the Lord, bless his name; tell of his salvation from day to day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples! For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised; he is to be feared above all gods. For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols, but the Lord made the heavens. Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.