Idols

 

By Maria Siciliano

In Acts 17:16-34, the opening verse of the passage describes Paul as very distressed. He’s waiting for Silas and Timothy to join him in Athens, and he finds the city full of people worshiping idols. Paul responds by preaching about Jesus and the good news of the resurrection. The Athenians become confused and find his ideas strange, but nonetheless they continue to listen and try to figure out what he means. 

As I reflect on the first half of this passage, I think about the ways that our world today would fit into these stories. Would Paul find our cities, or even our own personal lives, to be full of the worship of idols? Would many find the good news that he preaches strange and surprising, like the people of Athens? And how would that good news interact with—or interfere with—our idols? 

Acts 17 reminds us that, while many might not realize it, we all have ‘gods’ we worship. Whether it be a religious God, or a job, money, relationship, appearance, or level of prestige, we all devote our time and energy to something. Oftentimes, we don’t realize what we’re making into our God. Paul says to the Athenians in verse 23 that “you are ignorant of the very thing you worship.” We often lack awareness of the ways that we devote our time to idols, putting our trust in them and placing all of our expectations in what they will do for us. 

What strikes me about the idols in Athens is how diverse they are while remaining constructions of the human heart and hands. I think our own idols can be diverse, but often flow from our talents—like the talented philosophers of ancient Greece. We are reminded that even if we have great gifts in our lives, we quickly learn that these good gifts blessing our lives make very bad ‘gods’. Our satisfaction, our peace, and our joy must come from something eternal and never changing—something not made by human hands and not flowing from an all-too-human heart. 

But Paul calls for a turn. Paul brings good news. He notices the idols. He shudders at them. But he does not shut out his hearers from the gospel. He opens it to them, and many in turn find themselves opened to it. I have found that pattern repeated in my own life. I’ve realized many times that God will keep encouraging me to turn my eyes back to Him the more that I make the things of this world an idol in my life, in the same ways that Paul encourages the people of Athens to turn their eyes and hearts to God. 

Paul describes the ways that God made the world and everything in it. In verse 25 he states that God “is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything else. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else.” Not only will the idols in our lives never satisfy us; they will never satisfy God. Sometimes we devote ourselves to our private idols with the thought that we are actually serving God. That becomes especially true when our idols extend from the gifts and talents God has given us. But doing so ultimately requires more and more hard work, without our efforts ever being enough. 

Paul reminds us of something else—some very good news. God gives us life, and blesses us abundantly, and we could never do anything more or anything less to change the love that He has for us. Paul says that as God made humans in His own image and made us to inhabit the Earth, “God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any of us.” We were made to worship, and we are called to seek God and honor Him in all that we do. 

After speaking about the resurrection and the judgment for idol worship, some of the people in the crowd sneered and likely mocked these teachings. However, others became followers and believed because of this. This passage reminds us to consider the ways that idols exist in our own lives, and whether this good news about the resurrection and God’s promises encourages us and emboldens us to share our testimony with others so that they might believe. 

This passage resonates in my own life. One year ago, I was competing in my last collegiate season of track and field at Cornell before coming to Wash U for my graduate studies. My athletic career was full of highs and lows on the track, but when I competed, I always felt God’s presence. It provided me with a great opportunity to testify to my faith, and this was especially true during my final year of competition. After multiple seasons were cancelled due to the pandemic, and I had recovered from shoulder surgery, I was especially excited to compete in my final year for Cornell. However, after a hard Fall of training, an MRI report provided the news that I had torn my hip labrum. My surgeon provided options for me to compete in my final season before having it repaired, but not too long after this news, my ankle started bruising during competition. After an appointment with the team doctor, I learned that my MRI showed a stress fracture, achilles injury, and torn ligament in my ankle. I still remember the feeling of leaving this appointment and realizing the ways that my athletic success had become an idol in my life, and the thought of no longer being able to compete felt like the worst possible thing that could happen. The heartbreaking news reminded me of the need to turn to God and allow the peace that only Jesus brings to carry me through the end of the season. 

People were shocked when I was able to compete in the final conference meet for the team, despite all of these injuries, and my ability to participate became a testimony to God’s grace, as I felt His presence in the meet like never before. This experience taught me that God will continue to allow disappointment in our lives to reveal the true source and end of all our faith. He turns us back to Him, providing the strength to carry us through, and always, ultimately, for His glory. 

Maria Siciliano is a PhD student in English at Washington University in St. Louis.


 
Shelley Milligan