How can Christianity, or any religious tradition, claim exclusive truth, that it is the only true faith? As communication and travel have exploded in the last few centuries, we have increasingly experienced the vast diversity of people, cultures, and religions from around the world. TV shows like black•ish or a movie like Parasite expose watchers to worlds beyond their neighborhood (not always with flattering portrayals). The issues of cultural imperialism and anti-colonialism add further fuel to the critique: Who do you Christians think you are?
Recent comments by Vice President JD Vance have added another layer to the tension that modern Christians experience. In response to a pointed question at a Turning Point USA rally, Vance expressed hope that his wife, a Hindu, would someday convert to Catholicism (Vance’s faith by conversion). The average American Christian, unlike perhaps previous generations, is faced with the difficult task of talking about the Faith in a pluralistic and even global context.
As I stood on Mars Hill in Athens, across from the Acropolis and the Parthenon, the temple to the goddess Athena, the challenge of gospel proclamation in a pluralistic culture was at the forefront of my mind. In Acts 17, the Apostle Paul debated with Athenian philosophers about Christianity on this site. Christianity facing the claims of other religions, other gods or philosophies, is nothing new.
“While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols” (Acts 17:16). Paul then tells the Athenians, “I see you are very religious” (Act 17:22b).
The Greco-Roman culture of the late ancient Mediterranean world had yet to meet a religion it couldn’t accommodate (although Judaism and Christianity were stretching its limits). Each culture absorbed into the Roman Empire brought along its gods. Romans welcomed Isis and Mithras, Jupiter (Zeus) and Minerva (Athena), Sol Invictus, Cybele, Epona—and this is not an exhaustive list.
Later, as emperors died, they were added to the pantheon. Paul mentioned an altar to “an unknown God.” Acts also describes the conflict Christians experienced with the cult of Artemis in Ephesus, where the cult’s silversmiths sensed a threat to their livelihood.
The challenge that Christianity is just one of many religions is nothing new. What then may contemporary Christians learn from Paul’s apologetics in Athens?
Not everyone can argue effectively with philosophers, but Paul engaged with the people at hand, including philosophers in the marketplace and devoted persons in the synagogue. The text says, “With those who happened to be there.” In so many ways, Paul was prepared for this moment not only through study but also through prayer, a lively trust that God is present. Does God operate any differently today?
Paul also used the opportunities provided by the existing culture. His noticing the altar to “an unknown God” provided an opening. What openings, what examples of piety and devotion and spirituality, do we see in people in our culture who have no religion but do hunger and thirst for God?
Paul takes the opportunity he’s given. He invokes the one creator God—a short presentation that gets right to the heart of the matter: Paul’s monotheism verses polytheism of Athenians. He does not shy away from this key difference, but he confronts it directly. Today people of other faiths already know there are important points of disagreement. And many want Christians to be free to express our point of view because that frees them to express their point of view.
What do we make of Paul’s active preparation? It is clear he studied his audience. He had come to know the Athenians. Paul quoted their poets. In a rhetorical tour de force, he used their writers to enhance his argument for monotheism. We should not fear learning about the other faiths and cultures around us.
Paul turns to the resurrection. He cannot very well present Christianity without it! But as N.T. Wright has pointed out, this is a claim that will cause scoffing (both then and now). Some scoff, and others want to hear more, and some will believe. The responses we receive will be no different.
Paul also managed his emotions, a challenge even for the most grounded of clergy and ministry leaders. “While Paul was waiting for them in Athens, he was deeply distressed to see that the city was full of idols.” Paul was taught that idolatry was a profound mistake—even evil. And yet he is able in that moment to control his emotion. Likewise, contemporary Christians have to learn that quiet confidence, that ability to manage anxiety, fear, anger, and sadness and to deal with people of other faiths with the same compassion and wisdom as Paul showed on Mars Hill.
Not long after being in Athens, I found myself in Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. Built in 537, the Church of the Holy Wisdom shows a magnificent beauty. There is reason to believe that the building even played a part in Russians becoming Orthodox Christians. When Constantinople was conquered by the Ottoman Empire in 1453, Hagia Sophia was converted into a mosque. After being closed for a time, in 1935, the church reopened as a museum.
In 2020, however, the government’s highest administrative court restored Hagia Sophia to its function as a mosque. Non-Muslim visitors can no longer visit the floor. So on my visit, I could only visit the galleries. There is little left of its Christian history—a few mosaics here and there.
I was “deeply distressed,” and so I prayed in quiet confidence, “Lord Jesus, may you one day again be worshiped in this place.”
Do we as Christians believe that Christ Jesus, the Son of the living God, died for our sins and was raised on the third day? Do we believe that he is Lord of creation, the One who will come on the last day? Paul did in Athens. JD Vance does too. And he’d like his wife to believe and share in his joy. I believe likewise, and pray that I am ready to offer a steady, clear witness, just as Paul did.
“Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace: So clothe us in your Spirit that we, reaching forth our hands in love, may bring those who do not know you to the knowledge and love of you; for the honor of your Name. Amen” (Morning Prayer II, BCP, p. 101).
When Charlie and his wife arrived in Colorado Springs in the mid to late 1990s, they joined an Episcopal church. Living in the South, with a Baptist church on every corner, Charlie was a Lutheran. Now living in Minnesota, with a Lutheran church on every corner, he is an Episcopalian.
