Category Archives: Travels

Wednesday of the 6th Week of Easter
Acts 17:15, 22-18:1 | Psalm 148:1-2,11-14 | John 16:12-15

There’s a large chunk omitted from today’s reading (sometimes called the Areopagus sermon), and when I looked it up, I wondered why it had been left out:

Paul waited for them in Athens and there his whole soul was revolted at the sight of a city given over to idolatry.
In the synagogue he held debates with the Jews and the God-fearing, but in the market place he had debates every day with anyone who would face him.
Even a few Epicurean and Stoic philosophers argued with him. Some said, ‘Does this parrot know what he’s talking about?’ And, because he was preaching about Jesus and the resurrection, others said, ‘He sounds like a propagandist for some outlandish gods’.
They invited him to accompany them to the Council of the Areopagus, where they said to him, ‘How much of this new teaching you were speaking about are we allowed to know?
Some of the things you said seemed startling to us and we would like to find out what they mean.’
The one amusement the Athenians and the foreigners living there seem to have, apart from discussing the latest ideas, is listening to lectures about them. (Acts 17:16-21)

Notice how this missing passage changes the context of the words around it. Rather than preaching to a friendly audience, St. Paul is actually in “enemy territory” here, engaging in a clash of intellect with, among others, the followers of Epicureanism (the “gods-can’t-be-bothered” camp) and Stoicism (the “one-with-nature” group).

Indeed, some biblical scholars have suggested that the invitation to speak to the Athens city council was less “we’re curious, tell us more” and more “give us a good reason not to run you out of town for preaching about foreign gods”. As it turned out, the council was divided after St. Paul’s sermon, with some heaping scornful laughter on him, and others intellectually intrigued but not spiritually moved. Small wonder, then, that St. Paul chose to give up and move on, though among the small number of converts he amassed was Dionysius the Areopagite, later bishop and now patron saint of the ancient intellectual hotbed called Athens.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

Today, the reigning philosophy would have to be SCIENCE of the “precludes God” variety. I personally have no trouble reconciling God and scientific principles, but I’ve encountered too many people who think “I have free will, therefore I submit to no god (who doesn’t exist anyway),” while simultaneously placing great store in the fortunate impact of an inverted 福 (Chinese for “welcome to fortune!”), or touching wood, or not speaking “unlucky” words during Chinese New Year. The irony of intellectual vanity is delicious dessert, but I really shouldn’t indulge.

Lord, open our eyes to the possibilities that knowing You can bring to our daily lives, in the joys of caring and sharing with others. Amen.

P.S. I visited the Areopagus back in 2013. There really isn’t much left of it.

Monday of the 6th Week of Easter
Acts 16:11-15 | Psalm 149:1-6, 9 | John 15:26 – 16:4

Today’s reflection begins with a photo-journal from my 2013 pilgrimage retracing the footsteps of St. Paul through modern-day Turkey and Greece, specifically on today’s reading about Philippi and Lydia.

Sailing from Troas we made a straight run for Samothrace; the next day for Neapolis, and from there for Philippi, a Roman colony and the principal city of that particular district of Macedonia.

Not much left of it, I’m afraid…

…reclaimed by the sands of time.

After a few days in this city we went along the river outside the gates as it was the sabbath and this was a customary place for prayer.

We celebrated mass at that very spot. No “LYDIA WUZ HERE” graffiti to be found.

We sat down and preached to the women who had come to the meeting. One of these women was called Lydia, a devout woman from the town of Thyatira who was in the purple-dye trade.

St. Lydia of Thyatira, the first European convert.

She listened to us, and the Lord opened her heart to accept what Paul was saying.

The Man himself.

After she and her household had been baptised she sent us an invitation: “If you really think me a true believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay with us”; and she would take no refusal.

Not her house, of course, just a Greek Orthodox church built near the river where she was baptized.

✞ ✞ ✞ ✞ ✞

By all accounts, Lydia of Thyatira was a well-to-do woman, purple dye being an incredibly expensive luxury at the time. Even today, to be “born to the purple” is to lead a life of privilege, and to be envied by many.

Yet despite her status, she chose to listen to and believe a short scruffy man called Paul, who preached the good news of salvation.

Despite her earthly riches, she set great store by the grace of baptism, an act probably pooh-poohed by her contemporaries as “a mere dalliance by the river”, and at best “a cleansing bath”.

Yet we today, who possess riches and technologies beyond even the reach of St. Lydia, spend more time on said riches and technologies than on attaining the prize of eternal life. Are we making the right choice here?

Lord, open our eyes to the place in our Father’s heavenly mansion that you have prepared for us, and encourage us to strive towards deserving that place each and every day. Amen.