Sixth Sunday of Easter (Fr. Guiliano)

I wonder how Paul felt as he stood on the Areopagus in Athens. He hadn’t been in the city long. He had fled Thessalonica, where he barely escaped persecution and violence. In Athens, he was alone, without his friends. He could have mused quietly as he passed through the city, taking in its sights. He could have indulged in some self-pitying thoughts, like “What was he doing in this Greek capital? How had his life come to this lonely exile, so far from home? Why was he wasting his time preaching, when everywhere he went, he was beat up and nearly killed?”

Paul could have done that. But if you read the text of Acts, he didn’t. Our first reading contains his address on the Areopagus. And there he told his hearers that, God had made all the nations. Moreover, God allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, so that they would search for God and perhaps grope for him and find him—though indeed he is not far from each one of us. For ‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’

Paul gave a little summary of Christian teaching. Why were you born in your hometown, your country? Why are you alive in this century? What are you doing here today? 

The answer to each question is the same: so that you can search for God and find him.

This is the purpose of human life. This is the reason you encounter your daily blessings and challenges. This is the structuring principle for the world in which you live: so that you can search for God and find him. 

God is not far from each one of us. We live, we move, we have our being in him. We did not grant ourselves life or motion or being, nor can our parents or people claim total responsibility for us. We are all the products, the offspring, the children of something greater, of someone greater: the God who made the world and everything in it, the parent of all, the one who is beyond our imagining. This God has also: fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, [that is, Jesus] and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.

Our lives have a horizon to them, a day to which they are heading. St Paul knew this, and so I don’t think he spent much time wondering about what he was doing in Athens. He was there for the same reason he was in every place: to be someone who sought God, and (crucially) to be someone who proclaimed God.

It was not enough for Paul to be found. He had been converted and saved for a reason. We read in Acts 9 that the Lord declared of him: “He is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel.”

The Apostle knew this, and so he was prepared. He was prepared in the way that our second lesson says we should all be prepared. “In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.” And the Scripture says: Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you…

This is a tough calling, but it is ours. We were made to find God, to hold him holy in our hearts; we were also made and saved to help others find him. There is no Christian living who has been saved just for themselves. Not one of us is free obligations to others. We must “bless God” and “make the voice of his praise to be heard” (Ps 66:7). We must be ready to speak with whomever wants to know about our hope. We must convey our faith well.

Are we ready for that task? Are we prepared?

I think the Episcopal Church has sometimes forgotten its obligation to preach the Gospel to all nations. Once upon a time in our church’s history, we would have read the account of Paul’s sermon in Acts and thought, “That is my responsibility.” It’s why our forebears launched the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, proclaiming every Episcopalian a member of an effort to preach to every nation under heaven. It’s why the dioceses of Illinois were established on the frontier, why this parish was organized in the 1880s in the growing town of Champaign. 

People thought, “It’s my responsibility.” God has placed me here, now, in this time, in this culture, with these opportunities and challenges, with my personality and gifts, so that I might know him and make him known. 

And yet we have at times abandoned that calling. There are many reasons that mainline churches have been shrinking. This is one of them. We looked around and thought, “Our job is done.” We’re part of a proud church, a worldwide Communion, one of the largest Christian bodies in the world. We have a lot of social and political influence in this nation and around the world. What’s left to do? 

In reality, we do not stand at the dizzying pinnacle of Christian life. We are part of a global Communion, but in America the Episcopal Church is a small denomination in a huge country and world facing incredible change.

Let’s acknowledge the decline, the change, the pains and difficulties that both bring. But like St Paul, let’s push past any self pity. Now is the time to bear witness. 

As our catechism says on page 855 of the Book of Common Prayer: “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” We pursue this mission in all that we do: in prayer and worship, in proclaiming the Gospel, in promoting justice, peace, and love. 

We need every member for this work. It’s not just my job or Deacon Chris’s or the work of Fathers Joe and Fred. It’s not just a calling for a small group in our congregation. This is our common falling. As part of our parish’s strategy for the next several years, we have adopted the statement from the catechism as our mission statement. Why is this congregation here? What is our mission? To restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.

I ask you to take this to heart -- this call, this challenge, this responsibility. And as we prepare to unveil our Open Doors strategy next week, please pray.  God has allotted to us this place and this time in which to know him and to work for his kingdom. Ask him what you may do for his glory. And pray for all those who may become part of Emmanuel in the coming years.

I’d like us imagine ourselves on that Athenian hill, standing with St Paul, as he prepared to address the crowd. He knew the purpose of his life. He knew God. He took a deep breath. And then he spoke.