Showing posts with label Preaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Preaching. Show all posts

Friday, September 19, 2014

The Unknown God (Acts 17:23)

In what city did Paul proclaim Jesus to be the “Unknown God”? Athens (Acts 17:23)

In one of the few episodes in which Paul is seen traveling alone, the apostle engages philosophers in Athens (Acts 17:16-34). He observes the city’s many idols and joins an ongoing theological discussion with a wide variety of participants including Jews, God-fearers, Epicureans and Stoics (Acts 17:16-21). Having piqued their interest, Paul stands to address the Athenians at the Areopagus (or Mars Hill), the center of Greek religiosity (Acts 17:22). The missionary famously seizes on a statue he had seen dedicated to an “unknown god”. (Acts 17:23).

Paul begins his speech by acknowledging that the audience is “religious” (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV), “superstitious” (KJV) or that they “take...religion seriously” (MSG) (Acts 17:22).

Notably, Paul takes a positive approach. Stuart H. Merriam (1924-2011) affirms:

In his opening remarks Paul reminded his audience of how religious they were and how he had noticed a statue with th inscription, agnosto theo, “to the unknown God” (Acts 17:23). This opened the way for Paul to declare the true God [Acts 17:24-31]. Wisely he did not denounce Athenian idolatry which would only have closed the minds of his hearers to his message. Paul was no iconoclast. He felt commendation was always better than condemnation. Provide the powerful antidote of the gospel, and in time and in its own way it would cleanse and reform society. (Merriam, Paul the Apostle: At the Edge by Faith, 105)
Paul intentionally opts not to begin his address by pushing his own beliefs (Scripture) or attacking the Athenians’ views (idolatry). Instead he seeks common ground.

Timothy George (b. 1950) recognizes:

Significantly, Paul did not begin his discourse by bashing the “false gods” of the Athenians, though elsewhere his preaching did result in iconoclastic riots (see Acts 19:23-41). He began instead by identifying that which was missing in the religious worldview of his conversation partners. The fact that the Athenians had built an altar to “an unknown god” (Acts 17:23) indicated that there was a real, if unfelt, sense of inadequacy, that Paul could address with the positive content of the Christian gospel. He did this by pointing precisely to the two places where God has made himself known to every person of every religious tradition, namely, the created order [Acts 17:24-26] and the human conscience [Acts 17:27-29]. He showed great sensitivity in quoting, not the inspired Old Testament, as he always did when speaking to Jews, but the pagan poets who were familiar to the Greeks [Acts 17:28]...He did not hesitate to use..non-Christian sources in his evangelistic appeal. But neither did he stop with this acknowledgment of common ground. (George, Is the Father of Jesus the God of Muhammad?: Understanding the Differences Between Christianity and Islam, 74)
Paul neither attacks the Athenians nor condescends because he has knowledge to which they are not yet privy. William H. Willimon (b. 1946) reminds:
When we proclaim the good news to the world, we do not claim that people who have not heard this news are bad people. They simply are those who have not heard this news. (Willimon, Peculiar Speech: Preaching to the Baptized, 89)
Not all have read the apostle’s opening remarks as accolades (Acts 17:22). Christoph W. Stenschke (b. 1966) scrutinizes:
F. Gerald Downing [b. 1935], ‘Freedom from the Law in Luke-Acts’ suggests that even according to some of the philosophic reasoning of the time the Athenians are far from truly religious: ‘Δεισιδαιμονεστέρους [“very religious”, Acts 17:22 NASB] may be an ironic remark that the Athenians are assuming something senseless in their supposition that an unknown deity would claim worship from anybody (senseless even in non-Christian standards), this concept would be a prime example of superstition [Acts 17:22-23]. What God, if he were one at all, would be content to be unknown and to receive such little attention? (49)...Observance becomes superstition when it suggests that God or gods demand some action that does no good to the community or the individual worshipper. Thus an unidentified God would not have an area of competence, therefore no benefits would accrue from proper worship (50). The idea that a deity will quickly take offence if the ritual is not punctiliously observed is impious...The Athenians with their (supposed) worry about offending a (supposed) unknown god are superstitious in this way’. Cf. also Polybius [200-118 BCE]’s assessment of superstition and his theory of its origin in Rome (The Histories VI.56): ‘...the Romans have adopted these practices for the sake of the common people...the ancients were by no means acting foolishly or haphazardly when they introduced to the people various notions concerning the gods and belief in the punishments of Hades...’, quoted according to Polybius: The Rise of the Roman Empire: Translated by Ian Scott-Kilvert [1917-1989], Selected with an Introduction by F.W. Walbank [1909-2008], Penguin Classics (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1979), 349, cf. XVI.12.3-11; Walbank’s introduction, pp. 24f; Folker Siegert [b. 1947], Kommentar, 311. (Stenschke, Luke’s Portrait of Gentiles Prior to Their Coming to Faith, 211)
The Athenians’ religiosity opens a door for the apostle (Acts 17:22-23). John MacArthur (b. 1939) assesses:
The Athenians had taken the first step toward knowing God in that they were supernaturalists [Acts 17:22]. It is obviously impossible for those who deny God’s existence to know Him, since “he who comes to God must believe that He is” (Hebrews 11:6). No one will search for a path to a destination they believe does not exist. And they must have believed there was a god (among all their deities) whom they did not know [Acts 17:23]. (MacArthur, Acts 13-28, 132)
Paul’s ministry in Athens is unique (Acts 17:16-34), not only because he travels alone, but because he speaks to a very different audience than he typically addresses. In some ways the philosophers are more educated than the average congregant; teaching them would be much like the difference between preaching in a church and a seminary in contemporary society. Still, in other ways, this assembly is far more ignorant as they are unfamiliar with the Hebrew scriptures. This presents its own unique set of challenges.

Robert N. Bellah (1927-2013) observes:

There is only one point in the New Testament, as far as I know, when the Gospel is preached to those entirely lacking in knowledge of the scriptures (most of the gentiles to whom Paul preached were among the sympathizers of the synagogue, so that Paul could presume what George Lindbeck [b. 1923] calls “biblical literacy”), and that is Paul’s famous address on the Areopagus [Acts 17:16-34]...In order to preach Jesus Christ and him crucified [I Corinthians 2:2] to the biblically illiterate Athenians, Paul must convince them of the fundamentally Jewish notion of a creator God who is Lord of all and who will bring the world to an end in a last judgment [Acts 17:24-31]. Only in that context does the incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ make sense. (Bellah and Steven M. Tipton [b. 1946], The Robert Bellah Reader 480)
Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) and Richard I. Pervo (b. 1942) assert:
The audience may be ignorant, but their ignorance is far from invincible. No blindness has utterly corrupted pagan hearts, as Paul presently demonstrates. In due course he comes to the claim that all people descend from one person fashioned by God (Acts 17:26). A scrap of pagan poetry, “We are God’s offspring” (Acts 17:28) serves as the text. As in chapter 14, this is linked to an argument from the phenomena of nature [Acts 14:15], one which now explicitly buttresses the justification of a world mission by claiming descent from the one God. (Parsons and Pervo, Rethinking the Unity of Luke and Acts, 98)
Though he must begin where his audience is at, their shortcomings do not impede Paul. Loveday Alexander advises:
Accepting the reality of our audience’s conceptions doesn’t mean being bound by their limitations. Paul has to start by expanding his listeners’ view of God. (Alexander, Acts: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 136)
Paul actually uses the Athenians’ ignorance to his advantage. G.C. Berkouwer (1903-1996) exposes:
Their unusual respect for deities is marked in that they leave not even the unknown deity unworshipped [Acts 17:23]. There was a strange paradox here. Worship assumes at least some knowledge, at least of the existence of the god. Paul makes use of this contradiction: “What therefore ye worship in ignorance, this I set forth unto you” (Acts 17:23). He comes to grips with the pseudo-religion of the Athenians by way of this altar. He does not mean to complete what they already possess of true religion. On the contrary, what the Athenians acknowledge as ignorance has a far deeper meaning for Paul. He makes contact with the Greek mind by way of the altar and the unknown god; but his point of contact is the ignorance of the Greeks. And he sees this ignorance more profoundly than the Athenians’ own acknowledgment of it would agree to. He calls the Athenians to conversion from this ignorance; to them it is a sign of real religion [Acts 17:24-31]. (Berkouwer, Studies in Dogmatics: General Revelation, 143)
Like all good speakers, Paul identifies his audience and adapts his strategy accordingly. Gerhard A. Krodel (1926-2005) informs:
The climactic speech of Paul’s missionary career to Gentiles has become the subject of much debate [Acts 17:22-31]. Martin Dibelius [1883-1947], whose brilliant study of this speech has greatly advanced our understanding, concluded that “the Areopagus speech is absolutely foreign to Paul’s theology, that it is in fact foreign to the entire New Testament.” (Krodel, Acts (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament), 327)
Instead of his usual approach, Paul plays the part of a Greek philosopher. Nick Page (b. 1961) explains:
Paul is doing his best to be a sophisticated Athenian orator and not a provincial religious zealot. He never mentions Jesus by name. He talks about ‘the God who made the world and everything in it’ [Acts 17:24]. He even quotes from Greek poets: first from the sixth-century BC poet Epimenides [Acts 17:28] and then from Aratus of Soli in Cilicia [271-213 BCE], a third-century BC Stoic [Acts 17:28]. He does what good missionaries and evangelists have always done: he uses the language, the style and the cultural references familiar to his audience. (Page, Kingdom of Fools: The Unlikely Rise of the Early Church)
George A. Kennedy (b. 1928) agrees:
In terms that would be comprehensible to Stoics...Paul’s usual techniques of proof are adapted to a Greek audience...If Paul actually delivered a speech like this, he made a remarkable effort to carry the gospel to the gentiles in terms they might have understood. (Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation Through Rhetorical Criticism, 130-131)
Philip E. Satterthwaite concurs:
Paul’s speech in Acts 17:22-32 emerges as a textbook example of a deliberate speech: proem (Acts 17:22, seeking to secure audience goodwill) narration (Acts 17:23a, giving background); division (again a single proposition: I will tell you of this God you worship as unknown, Acts 17:23b); demonstration (God as incomparably greater than idols, Acts 17:24-29); peroration (Proverbs 17:30-31). As Robert Morgenthaler [b. 1918] notes, this is a speech appropriate to one of the rhetorical centres of the Graeco-Roman world. (Bruce W. Winter [b. 1939] and Andrew D. Clarke, “Acts Against the Background of Classic Rhetoric”, The Book of Acts in Its Ancient Literary Setting, 360)
Marion L. Soards (b. 1952) differentiates:
Instead of preaching the “latest novelty,” Paul takes shrewd line as he addresses his hearers—he starts by referring to one of their own religious shrines, an altar “to the unknown god” [Acts 17:23]. In his proclamation Paul is unlike Socrates [470-399 BCE], for he advocates nothing new; rather he clarifies the identity of the creator God (a deity that the Stoics would have known about) and ultimately relates the God of creation (who also sustains the world) to the resurrection of Jesus (Acts 17:18, 31). (Earl Richard [b. 1940], “The Historical and Cultural Setting of Luke-Acts”, New Views on Luke and Acts, 460)
After acknowledging his audience (Acts 17:22), Paul attempts to connect with them by seizing an opportunity that presents itself. He turns his attention to an inscription he had stumbled upon while surveying Athens (Acts 17:23). In a city that overflows with “gods”, the apostle capitalizes on a statue inscribed to an “unknown god” (Acts 17:23).
For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ Therefore what you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you. (Acts 17:23 NASB)
Paul finds a concrete example that gives his listeners something with which they can latch onto while priming remainder of the discourse (Acts 17:23). In doing so, the missionary astutely generates interest and meets his audience where they are.

I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) describes:

As proof of his statement [Acts 17:22] Paul relates how he had been observing the various objects of worship in the city; here again the word could be understood positively by the hearers, but at least to Jewish readers it would have a derogatory nuance (‘idols’; Wisdom of Solomon 14:20, 15:17). One such had particularly occupied Paul’s attention: a wayside altar with the inscription to an unknown god [Acts 17:23]. He eagerly seized on this inscription as a way of introducing his own proclamation of the unknown God. There was, to be sure, no real connection between ‘an unknown god’ and the true God; Paul hardly meant that his audience were unconscious worshippers of the true God. Rather, he is drawing their attention to the true God who was ultimately responsible for the phenomena which they attributed to an unknown god. (Marshall, Acts (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 285-86)
Paul’s observation will be developed into the speech’s theme (Acts 17:23-31). John J. Pilch (b. 1936) traces:
The speech that Luke crafted to insert in Paul’s mouth is, like all the speeches in Acts, a masterpiece [Acts 17:22-31]. His theme represented in the words, “Unknown,” “unknowingly,” and “ignorance” (Acts 17:23, 30) was a response to their suspicion that he was introducing “foreign” or “strange” notions (Acts 17:20). Paul’s focus is God, and how God ought to be properly understood...The aim of the speech was to guide the listeners toward monotheism. Jesus was not mentioned by name in this speech. (Pilch, Visions and Healing in the Acts of the Apostles: How the Early Believers Experienced God, 122-23)
Paul begins his speech with the familiar before venturing into new territory. When speaking publically, this is generally good practice. Richard N. Longenecker (b. 1930) analyzes:
Paul does not begin his address by referring to Jewish history or by quoting the Jewish Scriptures, as he did in the synagogue of Pisidian Antioch (cf. Acts 13:16-41). He knew it would be futile to refer to a history no one knew or argue from fulfillment of prophecy no one was interested in or quote from a book no one read or accepted as authoritative. Nor does he develop his argument from the God who gives rain and crops in their season and provides food for the stomach and joy for the heart as he did at Lystra (cf. Acts 14:15-17). Instead he took for his point of contact with the council an altar he had seen in the city with then inscription Agnōstō Theō (“To an Unknown God”) [Acts 17:23]. (Longenecker, Acts (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary), 271)
Paul takes the opening his circumstances provide, affirms his audience’s own religious language and uses it as a point of departure (Acts 17:22-23). Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) educates:
Using the altar inscription as his point of departure, Paul says, “What therefore you unknowingly worship, I proclaim to you” (Acts 17:23b). This was a conventional technique in an argument: for example, Pseudo Heraclitus, Fourth Epistle, takes the text of an altar inscription that could be read in two ways as the point of departure for reflections on true worship. The selection of this inscription may have been facilitated by the fact that the deity of the Jews was sometimes called an/the unknown god: for example, Lucan [39-65], Pharsalia 2.592-93, says, “Judea [is] given over to the worship of an unknown god”; the Scriptores Historiae Augustae, “Claudius,” 2.4 speaks about Moses receiving a revelation from “the unknown god”; Josephus [37-100], Against Apion 2.167, says Moses represented God as one who in his essence is unknown. A Messianist Jew sees an Athenian inscription and takes it as his point of departure for a speech that will wind up attacking idolatry. Paul claims that, unlike Socrates [469-399 BCE], he is not teaching anything new or strange. What he proposes to do is not to tell them about a new deity but to acquaint them with the one already honored but not understood by them. Justin Martyr [100-165], 2 Apology 10.5-6, says Socrates in his teaching urged the Athenians to know the unknown god. Perhaps here is yet another Socratic echo. (Talbert, Reading Acts: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 161-62)
Like Paul, contemporary preachers ought to keep their eyes peeled, scavenging for items with which connect to an audience and better contextualize the gospel. Randy White (b. 1956) conceptualizes:
Like all good communicators he [Paul] was gathering intelligence while he was interacting. We learn something of his straightforward methodology for uncovering hidden forces in the city when, in speaking at the Areopagus, he referred to his first experience in Athens. He remarked mundanely, “For as I went through the city and looked carefully...” (Acts 17:23)...Paul got out in the city and looked, paying attention to things he saw. He knew that they had meaning and would give him clues that would help him connect with the city in a way that might bring a measure of transformation. (White, Encounter God in the City: Onramps to Personal and Community Transformation, 69)
Modern homileticians can also build upon the familiar. Fred B. Craddock (b. 1928) advises:
Most of those to whom we preach...need to recognize, and should recognize the message. If they don’t, it’s the fault of the preacher...It is part of the power of preaching that the people are familiar with what we’re saying. It is a mistake in preaching to disguise its familiarity. But that’s a part of the preacher’s ego—not to deal with the familiar. Somehow the familiar doesn’t seem powerful, somehow the familiar is just a no-no and there is a veering away from what is familiar and a sense that the power of preaching is in its novelty...The power in the preaching is for the people to say, “Amen.” And how can they say “Amen” if they’ve never heard it before? (Craddock, Craddock on the Craft of Preaching)
Avoiding the accusation of introducing yet another god into an already crowded pantheon (Acts 17:18-21), Paul draws attention to the statue of an unknown god (Acts 17:23).

David G. Peterson (b. 1944) comments:

The basis of Paul’s accusation was his careful observation of their ‘objects of worship’ (sebasmata; cf. Wisdom of Solomon 14:20, 15:17; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities of the Jews 18.344; II Thessalonians 2:4 [sebasma]). He had seen an abundance of statues and altars devoted to the worship of many gods, even coming across ‘an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD’ [Acts 17:23]. (Peterson, The Acts of the Apostles (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 494)

C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) examines:

διερχόμενος [“passing through”, Acts 17:23 NASB] here does not have the meaning that διέρχεσθαι sometimes...has in Acts. Paul was simply making his way through the city; as he went, he was looking carefully at religious objects. ἀναθεωρειν [“examining”, Acts 17:23 NASB] is a stronger word than θεωρειν (Acts 17:16); δϋστορειν...is stronger still. Idols struck the eye; Paul looked more closely at the σεβάσματα [“objects of worship”, Acts 17:23 NASB] . The word is derived from σέβας, reverential awe (Greek-English Lexicon: Revised Supplement 1587): something viewed with such awe; broadly, any object relayed to cultus. At Wisdom of Solomon 14:20, 15:17; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities of the Jews 18.344 the word is used of objects of idolatrous worship, and so it is here, though one such object will be found to point to, or rather to suggest, the true God. εὑρον [“found”, Acts 17:23 NASB] does not necessarily imply that Paul was looking for what he found—he came across. Among various religious objects, σεβάσματα, a βωμός is almost certainly an altar, though the base of a statue (Homer [800-701 BCE], Odyssey 7.100) is, in the context, not impossible. The statue would be an image of the unknown god [Acts 17:23]. The altar, or base, was inscribed. (Barrett, Acts 15-28 (International Critical Commentary), 836-37)
David W. J. Gill (b. 1946) relays:
As a focus for his speech to the Areopagus, Paul drew attention to an inscribed altar, ‘To an unknown god’, ΑΓΝΩΣΤΩ ΘΕΩ (Acts 17:23). Both Pausanias [110-180] and Philostratus [170-247] noted such altars at Athens. However Richard Ernest Wycherley [1909-1986] has suggested an alternate view that this was not an isolated altar, but perhaps rather a hero shrine, possibly linked to Mycenean tombs in the Agora area at which offerings were made in later centuries. Certainly these tombs were perceived in later centuries as being sacred. Thus it is quite conceivable that a hero-cult, or heroon, might have centered on one of the Bronze Age tombs surrounding the agora, and that it is this cult of an unnamed theos to which Paul refers. It should be noted that the altar was one of many objects of worship (σεβάσματα) (Acts 17:23). Although this word may merely reflect the numerous altars and visual images related to cult at Athens, it also resonates with the worship of the imperial family, usually in Sebasteion. (Gill and Conrad Gempf [b. 1955], “Achaia”, The Book of Acts in Its Graeco-Roman Setting, 446-47)
The idol reads to an “unknown god” (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) or “The God Nobody Knows” (MSG) (Acts 17:23).

Rudolf Bultmann (1884-1976) defines:

ágnōstos [“unknown”, Acts 17:23 NASB]...[is] found in the New Testament only in Acts 17:23, this word denotes “unknown” or “unrecognized.” The phrase “unknown God” does not occur in the Old Testament, though the heathen do not know (Psalm 79:6) and Israel does not know other gods (Hosea 13:4). The rabbis think the Gentiles have some knowledge of God but call God’s ways unknown. Neither the Greek nor Jewish world believes God is unknowable, though Plato [428-347 BCE] thinks he is inaccessible to the senses. An altar to the unknown God would simply imply uncertainty as to the god to which it should apply. Scepticism, of course, questions all knowledge, and Gnosticism thinks God can be known only supernaturally but Socrates [469-399 BCE], Aristotle [384-322 BCE], and the Stoics accept God’s knowability. (Gerhard Kittel [1888-1948] and Gerhard Friedrich [1908-1986], Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Volume I, 115-21)
Luke Timothy Johnson (b. 1943) connects:
There is a rhetorical play on the “unknown god” who is “unknowingly worshipped” [Acts 17:23]. The participle agnoountes also anticipates the “times of ignorance” in Acts 17:30. The verb eusebeō (“worship/reverence”) finds its only New Testament usage here and I Timothy 5:4; but sees eusebēs in Acts 10:2, 7 and eusebia in Acts 3:12. The verb is cognate with sebasmata in Acts 17:23. Paul’s “I am proclaiming” (katangellō), in turn, picks up the designation of him as a katangeleus [“proclaimer”, Acts 17:18 NASB]. (Johnson, The Acts of the Apostles (Sacra Pagina), 315)
There is a grammatical anomaly in the inscription (Acts 17:23). F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) divulges:
This God whom they venerated, said Paul, while they confessed their ignorance of his identity, was the God whom he now proposed to make known to them [Acts 17:23]. But he did not express himself quite so naturally, as if unreservedly identifying the “unknown god” of the inscription with the God whom he proclaimed. He used neuter, not masculine forms: “what therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you” (RSV). Since they acknowledge their ignorance of the divine nature, he would tell them the truth about it. (Bruce, The Book of Acts (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 336)
C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) determines:
Surprisingly, the masculine θεός is taken up as if it were neuter [“God”, Acts 17:23 NASB]...It is likely that the neuters are original; there was a double reason for changing them, the grammatical reason that the antecedent was θεός, the theological reason that Paul was understood to proclaim a personal, not an impersonal, deity (but cf. τὸ θειον in Acts 17:29). (Barrett, Acts 15-28 (International Critical Commentary), 838)
As a statue enshrined to an unknown god (singular) is otherwise unknown while dedications to unknown gods (plural) have been uncovered, some have suspected Acts of altering the altar’s inscription.

Hans Conzelmann (1915-1989) contends:

Paul’s use of the altar inscription as a point of contact with the Athenians is a purely literary motif [Acts 17:23], since there was no inscription in this form. Luke has taken up a type of inscription well known in Athens, and has altered it to suit his purposes. (Conzelmann, Acts of the Apostles (Hermeneia: A Critical & Historical Commentary on the Bible), 140)
This argument is ancient. Alister E. McGrath (b. 1959) reveals:
Numerous Christian writers of the early patristic period explained Paul’s meaning at this point [Acts 17:23] by appealing to the ‘anonymous altars’ which were scattered throughout the region at the time. Several (including Didymus [313-398] of Alexandria) suggested that Paul may have altered the inscription from plural (‘to unknown gods’). (McGrath, The Science of God: An Introduction to Scientific Theology, 79)
Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) bolsters:
Jerome [347-420], Commentary on Titus 1.12, says, “In actuality, the altar inscription read ‘to the unknown, foreign gods of Asia, Europe, and Africa,’ not ‘to the unknown god’ [Acts 17:23], as Paul would have it.” To change a plural inscription to the singular for the sake of argument would not be unusual in antiquity. Philo [20 BCE-50 CE], On Sobriety 150, quotes Hesiod [eighth-seventh century BCE]’s Works and Days 289-92 in a monotheistic form by changing theoi (gods) to theos (God). (Talbert, Reading Acts: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 161)
The archaeological record has substantiated the existence of epitaphs to unknown gods. Lee Martin McDonald (b. 1942) catalogs:
No such altar has been found at Athens, but there are several indications that there are altars erected in honor of unknown gods (plural). The absence of any such find, however, is no evidence that none existed. Apollonius of Tyana, responding to the piety of a young man, said “...it is much greater proof of wisdom and sobriety to speak well of all the gods, especially at Athens, where altars are set up in honour even of unknown gods” (Philostratus [170-247], Apollonius of Tyana 6.3, Loeb Classical Library; similarly, see also Diogenes Laertius [200-250], Lives of Eminent Philosophers 1:110). In the second century A.D., Pausanias [110-180], while describing one of the harbors of the Athenians at Munychia, wrote: “Here there is also a temple of Athena Sciras, and one of Zeus some distance away, and altars of the gods named Unknown, and of heroes, and of the children of Thesus and Phalerus...” (Description of Greece 1.1.2, Loeb Classical Library). In describing the altars of Olympia, Pausanius again writes: “An account of the great altar I gave a little way back; it is called the altar of Olympian Zeus. By it is an altar of the Unknown Gods, and after this an altar of Zeus Purifier, one of Victory, and another of Zeus—this time surnamed Underground” (Description of Greece, 5.14.8, Loeb Classical Library). Although Paul speaks of an “Unknown God” (singular) there is considerable support for altars erected in antiquity to Unknown Gods (plural). Again, this does not mean that what is reported in this passage is incorrect, but only that presently there is no evidence of such an altar. The independent evidence, however, is enough to suggest that such altars did exist. (Craig A. Evans [b. 1952], Acts-Philemon (The Bible Knowledge Background Commentary), 119-20)
C. Kavin Rowe (b. 1974) footnotes:
There are...several references to the plural “unknown gods” (ἀγνώστοις θεοις, etc.). So far, the only strong possibility for the singular form occurs in Diogenes Laertius [200-250]’s account of Epimenides [sixth century BCE]. Epimenides freed the Athenians from a plague by offering sacrifice to the “local god” (θύειν τω προσήκοντι θεω) upon the Areopagus wherever the sheep brought in for the occasion happened to lay down (Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, 1.110). For a thorough review of the literary and inscriptional evidence, see especially, Pieter Willem van der Horst [b. 1946], “The Unknown God,” 19-42. (Rowe, World Upside Down: Reading Acts in the Graeco-Roman Age, 197)
David G. Peterson (b. 1944) defends:
Though no inscription specifically ‘to an unknown god’ [Acts 17:23] has been found in Athens... Any such altar could have perished, or its inscription could have become indecipherable through the ravages of time. Even in the singular, such a dedication implied polytheism — the need to acknowledge any god that might exist — but Paul used it to affirm monotheism. In their anxiety to honour any gods inadvertently ignored, the Athenians had displayed their ignorance of the one true God. (Peterson, The Acts of the Apostles (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 494-95)
Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) reviews:
The debate over whether or not there was any such thing as an altar to an unknown god [Acts 17:23] in Athens in Paul’s day has largely proved sterile, due to a lack of hard evidence one way or the other. It has been suspected that Luke or Paul altered the plural into a singular for apologetic purposes. Some scholars, such as Hans Conzelmann [1915-1989], have been wiling to be dogmatic about the matter. It is certainly true that thus far clear evidence of such an altar has not been forthcoming, though there is considerable evidence for altars to certain unnamed gods (plural) in antiquity...All relevant evidence of any kind postdates the first century. For example, Pausanias [110-180]’s Descriptions of Greece written in the third quarter of the second century A.D., speaks of altars of gods called unknown (1.1.4)...The especial relevance of this is that Pausanias the inveterate traveler says he saw these altars in Athens. It is worth asking what exactly Pausanias means. Does he mean various altars each dedicated to an unknown god, or altars each of which is dedicated to more than one unknown god?...Pieter Willem van der Horst [b. 1946] has rightly pointed out, after surveying all the relevant material in detail, “[w]hen Greek and Latin authors speak of βωμοι θεων or arae deorum they usually mean a number of altars dedicated to a number of individual gods (e.g. Homer [800-701 BCE] Iliad XI,808; Juvenal [first-second century CE] Saturae III,145), not altars dedicated to a plurality of gods.” As van der Horst says, it is thus logically and grammatically possible that Pausanias might be referring to altars each one of which was dedicated to an unknown god. Here the parallel texts in Pausanias that speak about altars for unknown heroes (6.20.15-19, 6.24.4, 10.33.6) may be relevant since there are certainly altar inscriptions which read “altar for a hero” of unknown name (Inscriptiones Graecae 2.2.1546, 1547). This may suggest that what Paul (or Luke) actually saw was an inscription which simply read “altar to a god,” since the god’s name or identity was unknown, and he added the explicatory term “unknown” [Acts 17:23]. One factor which may be thought to count against this reasoning is another text in Pausanias’s work (5.14.8) which clearly refers to “an altar of unknown gods” (αγνωστων θεων βωμος), and the wording here suggests that this is exactly what the inscription on the altar read, whereas in the previously quoted text it could be thought to be Pausanias’s way of describing the altar in view of the term “called.” The evidence from Diogenes Laertius [200-250] (Lives of Eminent Philosophers 1.110) and from Philostratus [170-247]’s Life of Apollonius of Tyana (4.3), both from the early third century, confirms that in Athens there were altars for unknown gods with both altars and gods being in the plural...The one relevant piece of archaeological data comes from an altar from the second century A.D. found in the precincts of the temple of Demeter in Pergamum in Asia Minor. Unfortunately, the inscription is broken off at the crucial point, but it appears probable in view of the number of letters per line and the fragment of a word we do have that it should be restored to read “to gods unknown (ΘΕΟΙΣ ΑΓ[ΝΩΣΤΟΙΣ]) Capito the torch-bearer [dedicated this altar].” The discussion by van der Horst shows that this reconstruction is very possible and was favored by three of the great experts in this century on Greco-Roman religion, A.D. Nock [1902-1963], Martin P. Nilsson [1874-1967], and Otto Weinreich [1886-1972]. Jerome [347-420] (Commentary on Titus 1.12; Epistle 70, Ad Magnum) suggests that Paul rephrased an inscription which originally read “To the gods of Asia, Europe, and Africa, to the unknown and foreign gods.”...What the above evidence does seem to establish is that there were altars to unknown gods (plural) in antiquity, and that they were especially known to have existed in Athens. What this evidence does not rule out is that there were also altars that read “to a god” or even “to an unknown god” [Acts 17:23] which archaeologists simply have not discovered yet. (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles : A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 521-22)
Many have addressed why such an idol would have been erected. In his 1913 book Agnos Theos, Eduard Norden (1868-1941) proposed, that in addition to the twelve primary deities and countless lesser gods, ancient Greeks worshiped a deity they called “Agnostos Theos” (“Unknown God”) which Norden dubbed “Un-Greek”.

F.F. Bruce (1910-1990) posits:

Paul may have seen an altar dedicated exactly as he says [Acts 17:23]. When a derelict altar was repaired and the original dedication could not be ascertained, the inscription “To the (an) unknown god” would have been quite appropriate. An altar on the Palatine Hill in Rome was rebuilt around 100 B.C. and dedicated “whether to a god or to a goddess”; the vagueness of the wording reflects ignorance of the divinity in whose honor it had first been erected. (Bruce, The Book of Acts (New International Commentary on the New Testament), 335-36)
A more common explanation is that the Athenians created a catchall deity as a precaution in the event a god had been inadvertently overlooked (Acts 17:23). One would not wish to unintentionally offend an as yet anonymous deity lest he punish his audience for their sin of omission. The unknown god then functions much like a god of fill-in-the-blank. It is like keeping a present wrapped in the event an unexpected guest appears on Christmas morning. The statue also functions like the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, whose own inscription reads, “Here rests in honored glory an American soldier known but to God”. In short, the Athenians are hedging their bets.

C. Kavin Rowe (b. 1974) researches:

Altars to the unknown gods are usually interpreted as evidence of pagan anxiety not to neglect—and thereby anger—any god whatsoever. See Pieter Willem van der Horst [b. 1946], “The Unknown God” 27, for example, and Robin Lane Fox [b. 1946], Pagans and Christians, 38 passim, for the general context of “the gods’ own anger at their neglect.” From a different angle, Stephen Mitchell [b. 1948], “Cult of Theos Hypsistos,” 122, has noted that if—following Timothy D. Barnes [b. 1942]—Paul stood trial on the Areopagus, “he was standing directly in front of the cult place of Theos Hypsistos, the God ‘not admitting of a name, known by many names.’” Mitchell’s quotation refers...to the famous oracle inscription from Oenoanda (northern Lycia). (Rowe, World Upside Down: Reading Acts in the Graeco-Roman Age, 197)
Martin Dibelius (1883-1947) justifies:
The consecration to unknown gods may have been occasioned by the fear that, through ignorance, a god might be denied the homage which was due him; this fear, when found in places such as Athens, Olympia, and Pergamum—through which foreign traffic passed—seems not entirely unjustified and may even have been kept alive by stories of gods which had become maleficent. (Dibelius, The Book of Acts: Form, Style, and Theology, 103)
Ajith Fernando (b. 1948) concurs:
Conrad Gempf [b. 1955] points to a writing by Diogenes Laertius [200-250] that presents the practice of anonymous worship as a “safety precaution...The thinking was that if the gods were not properly venerated they would strike the city. Hence, lest they inadvertently invoke the wrath of some god in their ignorance of him or her, the city set up these altars to unknown gods (Diogenes 1.110-113).” Paul, then, is highlighting an acknowledged need of the Athenians, and he presents the God whom he proclaims as the answer to that need (Acts 17:23b). (Fernando, Acts (NIV Application Commentary), 475)
Christoph W. Stenschke (b. 1966) recreates:
Though the origin or reasoning behind this worship is not given, it can be reconstructed [Acts 17:23]. Rather than offend a deity forgotten or as yet unknown to them and risk retribution for such disregard, worship of the unknown god was established in precaution. There was ‘fear of anxiety that by naming one god instead of another their acts of worship would not yield the results desired. To be on the safe side, a Greek could use the formula “unknown god”’. This altar and its inscription indicated that even a god whose existence were dubious was worshipped, showing the uncertainty and confusion in which these Gentiles were. Worship of yet another god, though unknown, is not surprising in their polytheistic paradigm. (Stenschke, Luke’s Portrait of Gentiles Prior to Their Coming to Faith, 212)
William J. Larkin, Jr. (b. 1945-2014) relays:
Once when Athens was plagued by pestilence in the sixth century B.C. and the city rulers had exhausted all their strategies to abate it, they sent to Crete, asking the prophet Epimenides [sixth century BCE] to come and help. His remedy was to drive a herd of black and white sheep away from the Areopagus and, wherever they lay down, to sacrifice them to the god of that place. The plague was stayed, and Diogenes Laertes [200-250] says that memorial altars with no god’s name inscribed on them may consequently be found throughout Africa. Richard Ernest Wycherley [1909-1986] proposes, with some archaeological justification, that such altars may also have been raised to appease the dead wherever ancient burial sites were disturbed by the building projects of later generations (1968:621). (Larkin, Acts (IVP New Testament Commentary Series), 255-56)
Dean Flemming (b. 1953) penetrates:
It illustrates a common fear of unknown powers among the Greeks. Paul’s mention of the altar to the unknown God therefore identifies an underlying religious need of his audience [Acts 17:23]. At the same time, it picks up on the theme of knowledge, which is highly valued by the Greeks. The Athenians’ worship of the unknown serves as a springboard for Paul to launch into his evangelistic message about the one true God who is known because this God has revealed himself. Additionally, the reference to the altar inscription allows Paul to build credibility with his audience by removing the suspicion that he is trying to introduce foreign deities to Athens (cf. Acts 17:18): the God he proclaims is not entirely unknown to them. (Flemming, Contextualization in the New Testament: Patterns for Theology and Mission, 76)
These are just several of the reasons that have been given for the existence of a statue devoted to an “unknown god” (Acts 17:23). Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) reflects:
There are at least several possible scenarios which could have led to the erection of an altar to an unknown god [Acts 17:23]. First, as F.F. Bruce [1910-1990] points out, altars were frequently reused and rededicated, especially after a natural disaster or a war. If an altar was found partially destroyed, and the name of the god it was originally dedicated to was missing, it is very possible that such an altar would be rededicated either in the form “to a god” or even “to an unknown or unnamed god.”...Secondly, there is now some evidence discussed by Pieter Willem van der Horst [b. 1946] that God-fearers living in places like Athens or elsewhere outside of Palestine could have erected an altar to the god of the Jews with the inscription “to the unknown (or unnamed?) God” of the Jews. It must be remembered that to “many Greeks the god of the Jewish religion was definitely an unknown god par excellence because he could not be called by name and he had no image. If a God-fearing Gentile dedicated such an altar, then of course the inscription would have referred to a god, namely, the only one Jews and their Gentile adherents recognized. There is some evidence, admittedly late, that quotes Livy [59 BCE-17 CE]’s now-lost 102d book of his Roman History as saying about the god worshiped in Judea, “the god worshipped there is unknown.”...The word “unknown” could of course be a term used by a foreigner of a god that simply had a name unknown to him or her, or it could be an expression of doubt about the true name of a god, or it could be a word used to avoid misnaming a god since it was believed that to misname could bring the wrath of a god. In any of these circumstances, it is conceivable that there could have been a dedication to a particular unknown or unnamed god. Thus, van der Horst’s conclusion is fully warranted: “It is not improbable that there were altars with dedications in the singular, though it is likely that they were an exception to the rule, most dedications being in the plural.” (Witherington, The Acts of the Apostles : A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 522-523)
Whatever impetus generated the object, its origins are immaterial to Paul.

Some have heard echoes of Scripture in the allusion to the unknown god (Acts 17:23). Hans-Josef Klauck (b. 1946) ascertains:

There is...a concealed biblical dimension present when Luke writes of the unknown god [Acts 17:23], since he is at the time the hidden God of whom Old Testament prophecy speaks: ‘Truly, you are a hidden God, O God of Israel, the saviour!’ (Isaiah 45:15). This inspires the prophet to hope that the Egyptians, Ethiopians and Sabaeans will come to Israel and confess: ‘God is with you only, and there is no other’ (Isaiah 45:14). The hidden God emerges from his hiddenness when he acts; he is made known in preaching and wants to be acknowledged by all, for otherwise judgement threatens. In terms of the narrative framework, we also discover that there is a gap in the Gentiles’ own structure of faith, a space left empty for ‘foreign divinities’ whom Paul is allegedly preaching (cf. Acts 17:18). But it is the Bible that supplies the matter to fill this. (Klauck, Magic and Paganism in Early Christianity: The World of the Acts of the Apostles, 83)
Eckhard J. Schnabel (b. 1955) considers:
The reference to the “unknown god” (Acts 17:23), understood in the context of Isaiah 45:15, 18-25, implies a censure of religious pagan convictions. The prophet Isaiah, after repeating Israel’s monotheistic confession, “Truly, you are a God who hides himself, O God of Israel, the Savior” (Isaiah 45:15), narrates a speech of Yahweh in which he seeks to convert the people to worshiping the one true God. If Israel’s God appears to be hidden and thus an unknown God, Yahweh’s words prove that he is indeed not hiding at all... (Isaiah 45:18-19...Isaiah 45:20-21)...This truth leads to an invitation...Turn to me and be saved...all the ends of the earth!...For I am God, and there is no other. [Isaiah 45:22]. (Schnabel, Paul the Missionary: Realities, Strategies and Methods, 174-75)
For Paul, the statue is merely a means to an end through which he can introduce the polytheistic Athenians to monotheism (Acts 17:23). The comparison serves only as a bridge; the idol represents an inexact correlation, if there is one at all.

Clinton E. Arnold (b. 1958) corrects:

When Paul says, “Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you” (Acts 17:23), he does not imply by this statement that they were already unconsciously worshiping the one true God. This merely serves as a means to raise for them the most basic question of life: Who is God? (Arnold, John, Acts (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 174)
Derek Carlsen (b. 1961) assures:
Paul does not say, the little bit the Athenians claimed to know about this unknown god was correct and now all he was going to do was increase their knowledge about him. Paul chose this particular altar because it was an excellent example of the Athenians’ bankrupt philosophy [Acts 17:23]. The Athenians, in having this altar, were acknowledging that even after their multitudes of idols and different deities, they were religiously unsatisfied and unsure. (Carlsen, Faith & Courage: Commentary on Acts, 400)
Pieter Willem van der Horst (b. 1946) resolves:
The quotation of the inscription functions as a way of introducing his [Paul’s] own proclamation of the unknown god [Acts 17:23]. ‘There was, to be sure, no real connection between “an unknown god” and the true God. Rather, he is drawing their attention to the true God who was ultimately responsible for the phenomena which they attributed to an unknown god’. The altar inscription enables Paul to emphasise the ignorance of his audience concerning the true identity of God. It is not only by ἀγνοουντες [“ignorance”, NASB] in Acts 17:23 that he stresses this point, but also and again in Acts 17:30 where he says that God has overlooked the times of their ignorance...Until the coming of the revelation of God’s true nature in Christianity men lived in ignorance of him. (Van der Horst, “The Altar of the ‘Unknown God’ in Athens (Acts 17:23) and the Cult of ‘Unknown Gods’ in the Hellenistic and Romans Periods’, Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt II,18.2 (1989), 1454)
John R.W. Stott (1921-2011) limits:
How...shall we interpret his statement that ‘what’ they were worshipping ‘as something unknown’ he was able to proclaim to them [Acts 17:23]? Was he thereby acknowledging the authenticity of their pagan worship, and should we regard with equal charity the cultus of non-Christian religions? For example, is Raimon Panikkar [1918-2010] justified, in The Unknown Christ of Hinduism, in writing: ‘In the footsteps of St. Paul, we believe that we may speak not only of the unknown God of the Greeks but also of the hidden Christ in Hinduism’? Is he further justified in concluding that ‘the good and bona fide Hindu is saved by Christ and not by Hinduism, but it is through the sacraments of Hinduism, through the message of morality and the good life, through the mysterion that comes down to him through Hinduism, that Christ saves the Hindu normally’?...No, this popular reconstruction cannot be maintained...N.B. Stonehouse [1902-1968] is right that what Paul picked out for comment was the Athenians’ open acknowledgment of their ignorance [Acts 17:23, 30], and that the ignorance rather than the worship is underscored...Moreover, Paul made the bold claim to enlighten their ignorance (a Jew presuming to teach ignorant Athenians!), using egō of apostolic authority, and insisting thereby that special revelation must control and correct whatever general revelation seems to disclose. (Stott, The Message of Acts (Bible Speaks Today), 284-85)
Paul’s negative appraisal of the Athenians’ idolatry is evident early in his speech (Acts 17:23). Mikeal C. Parsons (b. 1957) observes:
Within the compliment is an implicit criticism: that which you worship in ignorance, this is what I am proclaiming to you (Acts 17:23b). The Athenians had been worshiping an object, not a personal God, a “what,” not a “whom.” (Parsons, Acts (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 246)
This sentiment reverberates throughout Paul’s discourse (Acts 17:23-31). Loveday Alexander detects:
This conciliatory opening might be dismissed as a preacher’s play on words, but the whole tone of the sermon, though uncompromising in its condemnation of the practice of ‘idolatry’ (Acts 17:29), tends towards the recognition that the Zeus of the Greek poets and philosophers is the same as the creator whom Paul proclaims (Acts 17:24-28). The negative side of this debate surfaces in Ephesus, where the town clerk cheerfully defends Paul and his friends against the charge of being ‘sacrilegious and blasphemers of our goddess’ (Acts 19:37), despite Paul’s reputation as a scourge of idolatry (Acts 19:26). (Alexander, Acts in Its Ancient Literary Context, 197)
Paul routinely unmasks idolatry. V.J. Samkutty professes:
Luke exposes false gods and goddesses as he has Paul refer to an inscription to the unknown god at Athens (Acts 17:23), Demetrius and the town clerk affirm the deity of Ephesian Artemis (Acts 19:26-27, 37), the Lycaonians address Barnabas as Zeus and Paul as Hermes (Acts 14:12), and in Malta, the people claimed that the just vengeance of the gods (ἡ δίκη) brought punishment upon Paul, and later on they regard Paul himself as a god (Acts 28:4, 6). (Samkutty, The Samaritan Mission in Acts, 177-78)
Instead of false deities, the true God permeates Paul’s thought (Acts 17:23-31). John T. Squires (b. 1964) deconstructs:
The focus on the providence of God is...conveyed through the syntax of the speech [Acts 17:22-31]. The analysis of Paul Schubert [1900-1969] demonstrates the centrality of God’s actions in speech. The first period (Acts 17:24-25) establishes God as the primary subject of the speech, both through the relationship between God and humanity and through God’s activities in human history. God’s actions are the focus of the first half of the second period (Acts 17:26-27), God’s relationship to humanity of the second half of this period. In the third and fourth periods (Acts 17:28-29), although humanity (‘we’) becomes the subject, ‘the exception is only syntactical, not material, for Acts 17:28-29 deal as much (from the point of view of Luke) with the proper relationship between God and men as do the others’. The fifth period (Acts 17:30-31) returns syntactically to the primary subject, ὁ θεός [“God”, Acts 17:30 NASB], and thematically to the actions of God in history. The scope of God’s activity thus encompasses the whole of history, from creation to judgement, from breath to resurrection, with individual and cosmic dimensions, focussed on the central figured of the appointed man, Jesus. (Squires, The Plan of God in Luke-Acts, 73-74)
C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) defends Paul’s use of the unknown god (Acts 17:23):
It [Acts 17:23] must be understood as a preacher’s ad hoc way of introducing his theme, and it would be unfair to hold him bound to all the theological implications of his illustration. The Athenians (those of them who were religiously rather than sceptically disposed) reverenced a considerable number of gods. The preacher could have made a note of many other σεβάσματα [ “objects of worship”, Acts 17:30 NASB] bearing the names of particular gods; he picked out this god, whose name was not given because it was not known, as the one whom, to the exclusion of all the others, he intended to proclaim. (Barrett, Acts 15-28 (International Critical Commentary), 838-39)
N.T. Wright (b. 1948) adds:
Paul was not simply constructing a would-be theology out of bits and pieces of the local culture, in order, as the phrase goes, to discover what God might be doing in this place and do it with him. According to Paul, the main thing that God was doing in Athens was shaking his head in sorrow and warning of imminent judgment. (Wright, Acts for Everyone, Part 2, 88)
Though utilizing another’s beliefs as a point of contact is still good practice, Stephen P. McCutchan (b. 1941) cautions:
The major Christian seasons were transformations of pagan rituals into Christian expressions. The festival of Saturnalia was transformed into a celebration of Christ’s birth. Easter was an adaptation of a spring goddess festival. The cross was intended to be a sign of shame but was transformed into a sign of hope. Like Paul, these Christians knew that the false gods were “not gods” and therefore felt free to transform them into vehicles of faith. The danger for us, however, is that the reverse process is also possible. (McCutchan, Water from the Well: Lectionary Devotional for Cycle A, 154)
Paul’s missionary technique in interacting with the Athenians is exemplary and has been treated as a model (Acts 17:23-31). In fact, his reference to the unknown god (Acts 17:23) served as the primary archetype for missionary comparative religion in nineteenth-century southern Africa.

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) briefs:

Many recognized Paul’s speech to the Areopagus as a model of how to relate to others’ beliefs without compromising one’s own Christian convictions [Acts 17:22-31]. Stoic thinkers could agree with most of what Paul said in the speech, although it was also biblical. Only toward the end of his speech did Paul go beyond dialogue and seek conversion, bringing up necessary and important points of difference. (Keener, Acts (Immersion Bible Studies))
Robert C. Tannehill (b. 1934) applauds:
Starting from a cultural value acknowledged by the audience enables Paul to engage them in the discourse [Acts 17:22-23]. Denying that this value has been realized within the present culture and calling for repentance turns this into a critical engagement [Acts 17:30]...The Areopagus speech may provide a helpful model of the delicate task of speaking outside the religious community through critical engagement with the larger world. A mission that does not engage the presuppositions and concerns of those being approached leaves these presuppositions and concerns untouched, with the result that the message, even if accepted, does not transform its hearers. The fundamental structures of the old life remain standing, and the gospel loses its culture-transforming power. Dialogue with outsiders may be risky, but the refusal of dialogue on cultural concerns results either in the isolation of the religious community or the compartmentalization of religion so that it does not affect society at large. (Tannehill, The Narrative Unity of Luke–Acts, A Literary Interpretation, Volume Two: The Acts of the Apostles, 215)
Stan May (b. 1956) applies:
Paul builds bridges of understanding by acknowledging their religiosity (Acts 17:22), quoting lines from Athenian poetry to communicate truth (Acts 17:28), using their logic to present his arguments, and employing one of their altars to point them to Christ [Acts 17:23]. Don Richardson [b. 1935] says that Paul understood the story of the altar to the Unknown God and used this tool to proclaim what they worshiped as unknown [Acts 17:23]...When missionaries do not develop an understanding of the culture and worldview of their target people group, they naturally tend to view their own culture as superior to the cultures of others. This tendency...is identified as ethnocentrism. The solution to ethnocentrism is to try to understand another culture in terms of its own values and assumptions and its members as fellow humans. (Mike Barnett [b. 1952], “Cultures and Worldviews”, Discovering the Mission of God: Best Missional Practices for the 21st Century, 386)
Paul meets the pagan Athenians where they are by taking their own statues and philosophers and using them to present Judeo-Christian monotheism (Acts 17:23-31). The apostle begins with a healthy respect for his audience’s position. Though not always followed, this standard should still be modeled today.

What sermons/speeches have begun with the localized observation of the speaker? What do the landmarks in your area reveal about the ideology of the region? What are the rhetorical benefits of Paul latching onto the statue of “the unknown God” (Acts 17:23)? What precautions do you take to insure that you demonstrate respect towards others’ beliefs? What analogies have you used to communicate your convictions? Where should interfaith dialogue begin? Are you familiar with the commonalities between your beliefs and competing ideologies? Do you speak differently to Christians (the initiated) than you do with non-Christians (the uninitiated); should you? What, if any, is the connection between the unknown god (Acts 17:23) and the one true God?

In recalling the Athenians’ concession to an unknown deity (Acts 17:23), Paul appeals to a basic human instinct to pursue meaning. Harry J. Aponte (b. 1935) evaluates:

Paul discovered an altar in Athens that the Greeks had dedicated to the “Unknown God’ (Acts 17:23). He believed he knew who that God was, but he spoke to the Greeks’ pursuit as to a universal human impulse. Consciously or unconsciously everyone is searching for an overarching meaning and purpose to pain and pleasure, life and death. Everyone has a spirituality. (Froma Walsh [b. 1942], “The Stresses of Poverty and the Comfort of Spirituality”, Spiritual Resources in Family Therapy: Second Edition, 127)
Lynn Allan Losie (b. 1946) enlightens:
Paul’s point of departure for his speech, using the altar “To a Unknown [agnôstô] God” to which he claims the Athenians show reverence “without knowing [agnoountes] (Acts 17:23)...picks up a theme in Stoic philosophy. On the occasion of the dedication of a famous statue to Zeus created by Pheidias at the Olympic Games in 97 C.E., the Stoic Dio Chrystostom [40-120] gave an oration in which he used the image of the god as a springboard for a discourse on “the nature of the gods in general, and especially that of the ruler of the universe.” The knowledge of this supreme god, according to Dio Chryststom, is “inevitable and innate in every creature endowed with reason, arising in the course of nature without the aid of human teacher and free from the deceit of any expounding priest.” Thus he asks, “How, then could they have remained ignorant [agnôtes] and conceived no inkling of him who had sowed and planted and was now preserving and nourishing them, when on every side they were filled with the divine nature through both sight and hearing, and in fact through every sense?” The Stoic philosopher Epictetus (c. 55-135 C.E.) echoes the same sentiment: “You are bearing God about with you, you poor wretch, and know it not!” In the introduction to his speech on the Areopagus, Paul thus builds a bridge to his audience, even in what may seem to be critical remarks. (Robert L. Gallagher [b. 1949] and Paul Hertig [b. 1955], “Paul’s Speech on the Areopagus: A Model of Cross-cultural Evangelism (Acts 17:16-34)”, Mission in Acts: Ancient Narratives in Contemporary Context, 229)
Their reverence for the “unknown god” indicates that the Athenians sense that there is something more (Acts 17:23). They simply do not know what it is. Paul attempts to fill in the gap, taking the Athenians from “general revelation” (Romans 1:16-25) to “specific revelation”.

Lynn Allan Losie (b. 1946) notes:

The speech on the Areopagus [Acts 17:22-31] acknowledges the existence of general revelation and uses it as the basis for an evangelistic appeal. Ironically, the “unknown god” [Acts 17:23] is, in fact, the God who is known. (Robert L. Gallagher [b. 1949] and Paul Hertig [b. 1955], “Paul’s Speech on the Areopagus: A Model of Cross-cultural Evangelism (Acts 17:16-34)”, Mission in Acts: Ancient Narratives in Contemporary Context, 232)
Alister E. McGrath (b. 1959) agrees:
The fundamental point being made is that a deity of whom the Greeks had some implicit knowledge or intuitive awareness is being made known to them by name and in full [Acts 17:22-31]. The god who is known indirectly through his creation can be known fully in redemption...On the basis of a detailed survey of the biblical material, it seems that a knowledge of God, however limited, is indeed presupposed. Yet there is no sign of any endorsement of the view that God can be known, fully and authentically, by any mode other than revelation. (McGrath, The Science of God: An Introduction to Scientific Theology, 79)
Cleophas J. LaRue (b. 1953) proclaims:
Without revelation we wouldn’t be Christians at all; we would be Athenians, like those whose altar Paul discovered outside Athens, inscribed, “To an unknown god” (Acts 17:23). Without revelation he would be to us an unknown god. But we believe that God has revealed himself, not only in the ordered loveliness of the created universe, but supremely in his Son Jesus Christ, and in the totality of the biblical witness to Christ. Without that revelation expressed in speaking – human speech is the model that God has chosen to indicate what is meant by revelation – without it we would know nothing of him. (Michael P. Knowles [b. 1956], The Folly of Preaching: Models and Methods, 115)
Some have argued that Jesus has been present in Athens (general revelation) and that Paul is merely unveiling him (specific revelation). Dandapati Samuel Satyaranjan (b. 1939) trumpets:
God is present in the presence of Jesus Christ in the midst of humanity in its exercise of faith in the world. He is like the ‘Unknown God’ unidentified in Acts 17:23. D.T. Niles [1908-1970] stresses the need to “uncover a presence which has been there even though unidentified; indeed, a presence that was forgotten and lost, if not denied.” Religious history speaks of the “known gods.” What is truly present is God who is “unknown”, who needs to be discovered. Therefore, Niles says, “It is the present tense, the way in which God is contemporarily present, which needs to be discerned and named. That this present tense has always been present is what makes the name of Jesus appropriate for it.” (Satyaranjan, The Preaching of Daniel Thambirajah (D.T.) Niles [1908-1970]: Homiletical Criticism, 81)
Karl Rahner (1904-1984), a leading Roman Catholic “inclusivist”, writes:
Human life does of itself present a kind of anonymous Christianity, which explicit Christianity can then interpret, giving a person the courage to accept and not run away from what one experiences and undergoes in one’s own life...This would be putting into practice what St. Paul said of his preaching: ‘What therefore you worship (really worship!) without knowing it! (as consciously and explicitly interpreted), that I preach to you.’ (Acts 17:23) (Rahner, Mission and Grace Vol. I: Essays in Pastoral Theology, 160)
When presenting Jesus to someone who has not yet heard of him, one might find that Christ is already there. Rob Bell (b. 1970) updates:
Have you ever heard missionaries say they were going to “take Jesus” to a certain place?...The issue isn’t so much taking Jesus to people who don’t have him, but going to a place and pointing out to the people there the creative, life-giving God who is already present in their midst...If you do see yourself carrying God to places, it can be exhausting...God is really heavy...Some people actually believe that God is absent from a place until they get there. The problem with this idea is that if God is not there before you get there, then there is no “there” in the first place. (Bell, Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith, 088)
Gerald O’Collins (b. 1931) expands:
As regards the universal presence of Christ, we can extend the language of Luke about ‘the unknown God’ (Acts 17:23) to speak of the unknown Christ who has been and is active everywhere, for everyone, and in the history of all cultures and regions—albeit often hiddenly. He may be unknown, but never absent. He has mediated revelation and salvation through particular historical events and persons, and continues to mediate to all the revelatory and saving self-communication of God...Many object to such a vision of Christ being truly present, but less visibly, in the lives of those who adhere to other religions. (O’Collins, Rethinking Fundamental Theology, clxiii)
Tony Campolo (b.1935) illustrates:
Billy Graham (b. 1918), at the 1987 Urbana missions conference, told about going to a monastery in China to talk to some Buddhists. When he got there, he saw one particular monk in deep meditation, and felt led by the Spirit to go and talk to the man about Jesus. With his translator, Dr. Graham opened the Scripture and explained the way of salvation, giving the details about what Jesus had done on the cross and how giving one’s life over to Christ would give a person eternal life...Dr. Graham could sense that this Buddhist monk was taking all of this in, and was so moved by it that there were tears in his eyes. He said to the monk, “Are you willing to invite Jesus into your life right here and right now as we pray together?”... The monk looked back at him in dismay and said, “Accept him into my life? I would accept him, but you must understand that he is already in me. He has been in me for a long time. I didn’t know all the things about him that you have just told me, but this Jesus that you have been telling me about is within me, and as you spoke, his Spirit within me was confirming everything that you said. I believe in what you said because the Spirit has convinced me that these things are true. I would accept him, except that he is already within me.”...That story left open this question: was Christ alive in that monk before Billy Graham ever got there? (Shane Claiborne [b. 1975] and Campolo, Red Letter Revolution: What If Jesus Really Meant What He Said?, 53-54)
Paul’s use of the statue of the unknown God allows for the possibility that God is active in the lives of people who do not yet even acknowledge God (Acts 17:23). Though no one has a complete picture of God and there are still aspects of the Christian God which remain unknown, thankfully, the one true God is knowable because God makes Godself known. Perpetually.

Why did the Athenians not know the one true God? Is there a divine spark in all of us that simply need be ignited? When did God become known to you? Do you think that you knew God before you formally met? Is God at work in the lives of those who do not profess Christianity; in other religions in and of themselves? To whom do you proclaim God to whom God is unknown?

“The mission and evangelism of the Church would be much more effective if we were better able to build upon that instinct for God...which is so widely dispersed in our society.” - Peter Forste (b. 1950), Bishop of Chester, 2003

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Crucified Christ: Oxymoron? (I Cor. 1:23)

What did Paul say the preaching of the cross was to Greeks? Foolishness (I Corinthians 1:23)

Paul receives word that the church he founded in Corinth is experiencing internal division (I Corinthians 1:10-12). Corinth was a cosmopolitan city replete with cultural diversity, a fact which may have been a contributing factor to the conflict within the church. After urging unity (I Corinthians 1:12-17), the apostle reminds the congregation of their compelling commonality (I Corinthians 1:18-2:5). The church faces enough opposition from the outside without generating more from within.

Paul generalizes the protests of the outsiders: Jews seek signs while Greeks pursue wisdom (I Corinthians 1:22). In contrast, Paul summarizes his own preaching:

But we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Gentiles foolishness, (I Corinthians 1:23 NASB)
The apostle reduces his message to two words: “Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2). Typically, the cross and resurrection are uttered in the same breath but here Paul does not mitigate the scandal of the cross by remembering how it was eventually overcome (I Corinthians 1:23). Unappealing though it may be, “Christ crucified” is Paul’s bumper sticker theology.

Paul uses the plural in conjunction with his preaching: “we preach” (I Corinthians 1:23). While this pronoun contrasts nicely with the opposing groups he mentions, it is difficult to determine who it includes.

Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) acknowledges:

The most difficult instances of the first person plural to classify are those in I Corinthians 1:18-31 and I Corinthians 2:6-16. The commentators who take up the challenge are few and far between. C.K. Barrett [1917-2011] ignores the problem in I Corinthians 2:6-16 and without explanation interprets I Corinthians 1:23 as ‘we Christians preach.’ Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934], on the other hand, remarks apropos of this latter text, ‘how natural it is for Paul to slip into this usage; note also that it tends to happen in such places as this, where Paul would be concerned to imply that such preaching is not unique to himself.’ The contradiction betrays the speculative character of both hypotheses. Moreover, the nature of Paul’s evocation of all believers through the use of ‘we’...is markedly different to what appears here, and there is reason to think that Paul was in fact unique in his consistent stress on the brutal modality of Christ’s death. (Murphy-O’Connor, Keys to First Corinthians: Revisiting the Major Issues, 5)
The only person that can be definitively encompassed in“we” is the apostle himself.

Paul insists that he (and whoever else is echoing his preaching) is merely passing along the message of “Christ crucified”. Leon Morris (1914-2006) comments:

The verb preach (kēryssō) is that appropriate to the action of a herald. The message came from God, not the preacher. In this sense it is a peculiarly Christian term. It is used little, if at all, in this way in the classics, in the Septuagint, or in current religious systems like the mystery religions (see Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, iii, pp. 697-700). (Morris, 1 Corinthians (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 45-46)
Paul earlier confesses: “For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel, not in cleverness of speech, so that the cross of Christ would not be made void” (I Corinthians 1:17 NASB). N.T. Wright (b. 1948) characterizes:
When he [Paul] announced it, when he stood up in the synagogue or the market-place or the debating-chamber, he didn’t use clever words to trick people into thinking they believed it because they enjoyed his speaking style. Now, writing this letter, looking back on his initial announcement, he can for a moment spin some good sentences together, to tease them into seeing the point. But he didn’t do that when making the original proclamation. The cross had to do its own work. Simply telling the story released a power of quite a different sort from any power that human speech could have: God’s power, beside which all human power looks weak; God’s wisdom beside which all human learning looks like folly. (Wright, Paul for Everyone: 1 Corinthians, 13)
Paul’s unrefined message is “Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23). Significantly, the apostle utilizes the perfect tense when discussing the crucifixion. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) identifies:
Paul writes Christon estaurōmenon, using the perfect passive participle of stauroō, “fasten to a cross” (BDAG, 941), a verb that was used by Greek historians and others who mention crucifixion (Polybius [200-118 BCE], Histories 1.86.4; Diodorus Siculus [90-30 BCE], Bibliotheca Historica 16.61.2; Epictetus [55-135], Discourses; Josephus [37-100], Antiquities 2.5.4 §77, 17.10.10 §295; cf. Septuaguint Esther 1:9, 8:12r. (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) disclose:
The perfect participle ἐσταυριομένον is employed to describe Christ as crucified, which is the content of Paul’s message. The perfect is used to describe Christ in his present (even resurrected) state as one who has undergone crucifixion (cf. John 20:25-27). Paul stresses the crucified nature of his subject. It is Christ crucified that Paul preaches. “Christ” is anarthrous in the Greek and can be translated “a Christ crucified” (Revised Version margin) or, better, “a crucified Christ” (New Jerusalem Bible). In I Corinthians 15:11-12 Paul declares Christ raised from the dead to be the object of his proclamation. Obviously, “Christ” is what Paul preaches, but here in I Corinthians 1 he emphasizes the central element of his message most opposed to “the wisdom of the world.” (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 99)
The perfect tense accentuates the notion that crucifixion is something that an individual’s reputation cannot overcome: Once crucified, always crucified. As evidenced by Christianity’s early critics, the cross is a stain that cannot be removed. Jesus forever remains the crucified one.

Robert E. Picirilli (b. 1932) explains:

The verb (Greek perfect tense) suggests both the past act of crucifixion and the fixed results of that act that are always present: Christ was crucified, and the achievement stands, always available for application. “It is finished.” [John 19:30] That is the way Christ is proclaimed in the gospel, and that is the heart of the gospel. (Picirilli, 1, 2 Corinthians (Randall House Bible Commnetary, 23)
Bruce N. Fisk (b. 1959) applies:
Followers of Jesus can never move beyond the cross. Unlike some children’s story that holds our affection for a brief time, the cross is neither preliminary nor elementary. On the contrary, the startling claim of the gospel is that the death of Jesus stands at the center of human history. Perhaps this is why the cross proved to be such an obstacle for both the Corinthian elite and for Paul’s Jewish kin as well...Stubbornly Paul insists on summing up his message with two simple words: Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2). (Fisk, First Corinthians (Interpretation Bible Studies), 10-11)
In this time of division, Paul offers a refresher course in the basics. Christ crucified is not an insignificant fragment of Paul’s ideology; it represents the substance of his theology. It is the gospel in a nutshell.

Alan F. Johnson (b. 1933) affirms:

This is the heart of Paul’s message and his whole understanding of God’s matchless wisdom. All else follows from this central core; without it, all else is a rabbit trail that leads nowhere, a powerless gospel. (Johnson, 1 Corinthians (IVP New Testament Commentary), 58)
Richard A. Horsley (b. 1939) determines:
Of Paul’s fifteen references to the cross or Christ crucified, six come in this passage [I Corinthians 1:18-25], with another six grouped in Galatians. It would appear that Paul mentions the cross or Christ crucified when he feels some threat to the implications of his gospel for the current life of the communities he has founded: these are found only in Galatians (Galatians 3:1, 5:11, 24, 6:12, 14) against the threat he feels from “Judaizers”; briefly in Philippians 3:18; and here in I Corinthians (I Corinthians 1:13, 17, 18, 23, 2:2, 8; with II Corinthians 13:4 probably derivative). Paul focuses on the cross in this context because he finds the sophia of some of the Corinthians to be a serious threat to the community. (Horsley, 1 Corinthians (Abingdon New Testament Commentaries), 48)
Charles H. Talbert (b. 1934) pinpoints:
In this self-contained unit [I Corinthians 1:17-2:5] Paul tells what he preached at Corinth, how he did it, and why he preached as he did. At the center of the chiasmus is what he preached: Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23a). Judging from the context, the cross here does not refer to the death of Jesus as a sacrifice for sins (as in Romans 3:25-26), as a victory over the evil powers (as in Colossians 2:15), or as a revelation of God’s love (as in Romans 5:8), but rather to Jesus’ death to sin (as in Romans 6:10; he died rather than sin), in which believers are called to participate (e.g., Romans 6:3, 6-7, 10-11; Galatians 2:10). (Talbert, Reading Corinthians: A Literary and Theological Commentary, 17)
Jesus is the Christ and, for Paul, this status is directly linked to the mode of his death. Christopher Tuckett (b. 1948) observes:
One striking group of texts in Paul relates Jesus’ identity as the Christ to his death on the cross. Thus Paul talks very regularly of ‘Christ crucified’ (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2; Galatians 3:1) or the ‘cross of Christ’ (I Corinthians 1:17; Philippians 3:18). He never talks about the ‘crucified Lord’ or ‘the Lord who was crucified’. The exact link between crucifixion and messiahship is not certain, and Paul certainly never spells it out. (Tuckett, Christology and the New Testament: Jesus and His Earliest Followers, 47)
Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) contends:
For Paul, Jesus actually was the messiah, not despite the fact that he was crucified but precisely because he was crucified. He bore the curse of the Law (since he was hanged on a tree [Deuteronomy 21:23]); but since he was God’s chosen, he bore this curse not for any wrong he had done but for the wrong done by others. It is through his crucifixion, therefore, that one can escape from the curse of the Law and be set free from the power of sin that alienates people from God. (Ehrman, God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question–Why We Suffer, 150)
It is precisely the identifier that Paul emphasizes that creates a marketing nightmare as the cross presents intrinsic impediments to both religious and secular audiences (I Corinthians 1:23). Later interpreters note that the cross passes the criterion of embarrassment; that is to say that this is a detail that must be historically true as no one would have possibly benefitted from its fabrication.

The cross alienated both Jews and Gentiles (I Corinthians 1:22-23). To the Jews it proved a “stumbling block” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NRSV, RSV). Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) notes:

The Greek word translated “stumbling block” is σκάνδαλον, from which we derive our word “scandal.” “Scandal” is in fact closer to the sense than “stumbling block,” since the word does not so much mean something that one is tripped up by as something that offends to the point of arousing opposition. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 75)
Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) examines:
The word σκάνδαλον...has been variously rendered as scandal (C.K. Barrett [1917-2011], Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934]), stumbling block (AV/KJV, NRSV, NIV, Raymond F. Collins [b. 1935], James Moffatt [1870-1944]), or an obstacle they cannot get over (New Jerusalem Bible). All of these can be defended. The Greek word occurs only rarely outside the Septuagint and New Testament, but occurs six times in Matthew and Luke, six times in the Pauline epistles (once each in I Peter, I John and Revelation), i.e. 15 times in the New Testament. Edwin Hatch [1835-1889]-Henry A. Redpath [1848-1908] list 21 occurrences in the Septuagint, where it translates four Hebrew words of which the two main nouns are שמןק (moqesh) and ןלשמכ (mikshol). These may relate to catching in a snare, but the meaning trap, or more strictly the tripstick of a trap, is not well attested in nonbiblical Greek, and offers only one of several possible meanings in most of the New Testament examples. In Galatians 5:11 Paul speaks of τό σκάνδαλον του σταυρου, where a double affront is caused by the curse entailed for one who is hanged on the cross and by the nullification of the role of self-help. Peter’s suggestion in Matthew that Jesus should avoid the cross is itself a σκάνδαλον to Jesus (Matthew 16:23). C.K. Barrett [1917-2011] and Gordon D. Fee [b. 1934] insist it includes scandal; thus Today’s English Version translates what is offensive. In several contexts the word denotes what may provoke someone to a negative or even rebellious reaction. No single English word seems to cover its various nuances, and much of the emphasis depends on the context. When we bear in mind Stephen M. Pogoloff [b. 1949]’s convincing picture of what it would be to proclaim a crucified criminal of modest status to those who sought honour, esteem, and success, to translate an affront seems to capture the mood and nuance most closely. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 171)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) reinforce:
Although the word appears only here in I Corinthians, Paul uses it in a similar context in Romans 9:33 and Romans 11:11-12. In both cases an Old Testament citation identifies Christ as a stumbling block for Israel (Isaiah 8:14 and Psalm 69:23-24 respectively). Isaiah 8:14 in particular gives the flavor of the term with various synonyms: “He will become a stone of offense and a stumbling block to both houses of Israel, a trap and a snare to the inhabitants of Jerusalem.” Together these texts suggest that a stumbling block is more serious than simply an insulting affront; it also leads to disastrous consequences. (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 100)
Paul’s Jewish audience stumbled over what he deemed bedrock as Jesus did not restore the Davidic throne in the way most Jews anticipated that the Messiah would. Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971) describes:
The offence lay primarily in the crucified rather than in the triumphant Messiah; and in the assertion that in the drama of his crucifixion, we have a revelation of the divine mercy in which God takes the sins of the world upon himself. This affirmation is freely confessed by Paul as being “to the Jews a stumbling-block” (I Corinthians 1:23). It does not follow with logical necessity from anything predicted in Messianic hopes, though the Christian community (rightly I believe) saw it as a fulfillment of the quasi-Messianic conception in the Second Isaiah of the “suffering servant.” [Isaiah 53:1-12] (Niebuhr, The Essential Reinhold Niebuhr: Selected Essays and Addresses, 192)
David E. Garland (b. 1947) augments:
From a Jewish standpoint, a crucified Messiah was an oxymoron, which becomes a major stumbling block (σκάνδαλον, skandalon) because Scripture brands anyone hanged on a tree as accursed of God (Deuteronomy 21:23). In Justin Martyr [100-165]’s Dialogue with Trypho 31-32, Rabbi Trypho remains unpersuaded by Justin’s attempt to prove from Daniel 7 that Jesus was the Messiah and responds, “Sir, these and suchlike passages of scripture compel us to await One who is great and glorious, and takes the everlasting Kingdom from the Ancient of Days as Son of Man. But this your so-called Christ is without honour and glory, so that He has even fallen into the uttermost curse that is in the Law of God, for he was crucified.” For those who think that God must be mighty and strong, not weak, the cross is “an affront to God’s majesty” (Troels Engberg-Pedersen [b. 1948] 1987: 562). It is insulting “to link God with weakness” (Peter Lampe [b. 1954] 1990: 121). The cross also dashes cherished hopes of temporal triumph and world supremacy. (Garland, 1 Corinthians (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 69-70)
There was no room in most Jews’ theology for a crucified Christ. Not only did the cross present challenges, the average Jew would have seen no benefits.

Amy-Jill Levine (b. 1956) speculates:

Most Jews would not have accepted Paul’s claims any more than they would have accepted a messiah without a messianic age. They already had the belief in the resurrection of the dead, and they believed in a just God who forgave sin. Thus, this new Galilean savior would be for them a redundancy—there was nothing broken or missing in their system that his death and resurrection could fix or fill. Further, most would have found the entire notion of a crucified messiah who brings about by his death salvation from death and sin ridiculous. As Paul puts it in I Corinthians 1:23, “We proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block...to Jews and foolishness...to Gentiles.” (Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus, 67)
The issue is not just the existence of the theory of a crucified Messiah or even its popularity. James D.G. Dunn (b. 1939) diagnoses:
The offense for most Jews was not simply the message of a crucified Messiah, the fact that some other Jews (and Gentiles) believed and preached that Jesus, crucified and all, was Messiah. It was the prospect of accepting that claim for themselves which was the stumbling block. They stumbled not over the beliefs of others, but at the challenge to share that belief for themselves. (Dunn, The Christ & the Spirit, Volume 1: Christology, 218)
Paul understood the Jewish objections to Jesus all too well as he once espoused them. Wilfrid J. Harrington (b. 1927) conjectures:
When Paul declared: “We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling-block to Jews and folly to Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23), he spoke from wry experience. He thought not only of the missionary challenge but, surely, recalled his personal conflict. (Harrington, Seeking Spiritual Growth Through the Bible, 68)
Seyoon Kim (b. 1946) concurs:
James D.G. Dunn [b. 1939] grants that from I Corinthians 1:23 it can fairly be inferred that the pre-conversion Paul was offended by the Christian proclamation of the “crucified Messiah,” and from Galatians 3:13 that on the basis of Deuteronomy 21:23 he persecuted the Christians who proclaimed the crucified Jesus as God’s Messiah. So Dunn recognizes that Paul was converted to “Christ crucified,” which “was part of the base-rock faith of the first Christians.” (Kim, Paul and the New Perspective : Second Thoughts on the Origin of Paul’s Gospel, 13-14)
“Feel Felt Found” is a proven selling technique. The salesperson identifies with an objecting customer and pitches newfound data, professing that “I understand why you feel... Others have felt... What they found was...” Paul could have genuinely incorporated this strategy.

Alan F. Segal (1945-2011) informs:

Paul...still understands the Jewish position, but he can no longer accept it at face value. Rather, he transforms it into a new understanding of messiahship. He says in I Corinthians 1:23, “but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to gentiles.” Paul knows in ways that the later church cannot appreciate how difficult it was for a Jew to accept a crucified messiah and how difficult it was for a gentile to accept a crucified god or hero. (Segal, Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee, 123)
Paul fully realizes how difficult it is to affirm the cross and the natural consequences that come with worshiping a crucified person. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) relays:
Paul speaks of Jesus’ demise as “even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8), and how he would not boast “save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Galatians 6:14). The consequence is that the believing Christian knows that he or she is “co-crucified with Christ: it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). For the Christian “always carries in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (II Corinthians 4:10). (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159)
The cross was no more palatable to the Jews’ counterparts, the “Gentiles” (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NLT, NRSV, RSV) or “Greeks” (KJV, MSG, NKJV). The Greek text of I Corinthians 1:23 actually uses the broader “Gentiles” (eth’-nos) while the preceding verse speaks of “Greeks”.

H.H. Drake Williams, III (b. 1965) discusses:

Although Greeks is used in I Corinthians 1:22 and Gentiles in I Corinthians 1:23, both of these terms should be understood as equal in I Corinthians 1:22-24. Oftentimes Paul uses Greeks and Gentiles interchangeably (Romans 1:16, 2:9ff, 3:9, 10:12; I Corinthians 10:32, 12:13; Galatians 3:28). The present use of the term Greeks is likely due to the predominant Greek population of Corinth. Ernest Best [1917-2004], “The Power and the Wisdom of God,” 27. What is most important is that both of these groups are understood together as comprehensive of the wisdom of the world. Wolfgang Schrage [b. 1928], Der erste Brief an die Korinther, 182-83. (Williams, The Wisdom of the Wise: The Presence and Function of Scripture Within 1 Cor. 1:18-3:23, 98)
Raymond F. Collins (b. 1935) specifies:
Implicitly Paul identifies the Gentiles (ethnesin; hellēsi, “Hellenes,” in some manuscripts) with the Hellenes of I Corinthians 1:22, 24. For those Gentiles who did not receive the gospel of Christ preached by Paul the content of his message is folly. Had Paul allowed cultivated Gentiles to be captivated by his use of oratorical skills he would have deprived the very cross of Christ of its power (I Corinthians 1:17). In fact, the object of Paul’s epistolary wrath is not so much Gentiles as such but the Hellenes, whom he now identifies as Gentiles, whose pursuit of wisdom causes the cross of Christ to be deprived of its power. (Collins, First Corinthians (Sacra Pagina), 107-08)
These Gentiles characterize the cross as “foolishness” (ASV, CEV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NRSV), “folly” (ESV, RSV), “absurd” (MSG) or “nonsense” (NLT). The Greek is moría, from which English derives the term “moron.”

Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) prescribes:

To the “Gentiles” the message of “Christ crucified” was a “pernicious superstition” and “utter foolishness.” As Martin Hengel [1926-2009] notes, Paul’s word for folly here “does not denote either a purely intellectual defect nor a lack of transcendental wisdom. Something more is involved,” something more closely akin to “madness.” It is hard for those in the christianized West, where the cross for almost nineteen centuries has been the primary symbol of faith, to appreciate how utterly mad the message of a God who got himself crucified by his enemies must have seemed to the first-century Greek or Roman. But it is precisely the depth of this scandal and folly that we must appreciate if we are to understand both why the Corinthians were moving away from it toward wisdom and why it was well over a century before the cross appears among Christians as a symbol of their faith.” (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 76)
L.L. Welborn (b. 1953) speculates that Paul drew upon imagery from a popular mime:
It now seems likely that Paul’s astonishing and paradoxical equation of the cross and foolishness was mediated by the mime. The most popular mime of Paul’s day was the Laureolus of Catullus...References by historians, poets, and commentators make it possible to reconstruct the plot. Laureolus is a slave who runs away from his master and becomes the leader of a band of robbers. Some record of his crimes must have been presented; there was a scene in which he was captured, and a final scene in which he was crucified. The crucifixion was enacted with a considerable degree of stage realism. Josephus [37-100] reports that ‘a great quantity of artificial blood flowed down from the one crucified.’ Suetonius [70-130] records a performance on the day of Caligula [12-41]’s assassination, in which the chief actor fell and vomited blood. Suetonius notes that the performance was immediately followed by a humorous afterpiece in which ‘several mimic fools (plures secunfarum) so vied with one another in giving evidence of their proficiency at dying that the stage swam in blood.’ According to Martial, a condemned criminal was forced to take the part of Laureolus at a performance during the reign of Titus [39-81], and actually died on the cross. Paul may have this mime in mind when he describes the message of the crucified Christ as ‘foolishness’. (Welborn, Paul, the Fool of Christ: A Study of 1 Corinthians 1-4 in the Comic-Philosophic Tradition, 99-100)
Wisdom loving Greeks sought a logical rationale and the cross simply did not add up. Human wisdom falls short in understanding the cross; its genius is something the human mind cannot fully grasp.

Verlyn D. Verbrugge (b. 1942) relates:

Who in their right mind would say that the way to get peace with God is to build a relationship with someone who suffered the type of death reserved only for the worst criminals in the Roman Empire? Such an attitude is not unlike suggesting to people today to count as their hero someone condemned to the electric chair or to death by lethal injection. (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952] and David E. Garland [b. 1947], Romans–Galatians (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary, 268)
Crucifixion simply could not be on the Messiah’s resume. It was comparable to a felony background weeding out applicants for government jobs. A crucified person need not apply to be the Christ. For many, “crucified Christ” is nothing less than an oxymoron.

Gordon D. Fee (b. 1934) relays:

To the seekers of signs and wisdom Paul now presents the ultimate divine contradiction: “But we preach Christ crucified.” Rather than giving them the signs and wisdom they demand—and God has plenty of both—they get weakness and folly. Indeed, “Christ crucified” is a contradiction in terms, of the same category as “fried ice.” One may have a Messiah, or one may have a crucifixion; but one may not have both—at least not from the perspective of merely human understanding. Messiah meant power, splendor, triumph; crucifixion meant weakness, humiliation, defeat. Little wonder that both Jew and Greek were scandalized by the Christian message. During Roman times crucifixion was the ultimate penalty, reserved mainly for rebellious subjects of various kinds (insurrectionists and the like) and slaves. Jesus died as a state criminal, a scandal to Jew, Greek, and Christian alike. (Fee, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (The New International Commentary on the New Testament), 75)
On the surface, the Christ dying is itself illogical, much less suffering a reprehensible death. David E. Garland (b. 1947) understands:
Gentiles think it folly for God to let his Son die to save others. Paul’s preaching not only proclaims that this is what God did but also demands that the listener become joined to Christ in his humiliation and death. What honor or status can accrue from binding oneself to a crucified person? Humans, however, are the fools in thinking that they can “domesticate the sovereign God” and capture God in the images of creatures (Romans 1:23, 25; Peter Lampe [b. 1954] 1990: 123-24). (Garland, 1 Corinthians (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament), 70)
Dissatisfaction with the cross persisted for centuries. It resurfaces in Pliny the Younger (61-113)’s letter to Trajan (53-117) and the writings of the satirist Lucian (125-180). Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) documents:
It is...folly to Gentiles, because such wisdom seekers regard the kerygma as the opposite of the goal of their search...In I Corinthians 1:18-20, “folly” was contrasted with the “wisdom” of all unbelievers; now it is restricted, as it stands in contrast to the wisdom of the “Gentiles.” So the satirical Sophist, Lucian of Samosata (A.D. 120-180?), mocked Christians: ton de aneskolopismenon ekeinon sophistēn auton proskynōsin kai kata tous ekeinou nomous biōsin, “they worship that crucified sophist himself and live according to his laws” (De morte Peregrini 13). What lies behind such an attitude is the recognition that Jesus died the death that was known in the contemporary Roman world as servile supplicium, “the slave’s punishment” (Valerius Maximus, Factorum 7.12; cf. Martin Hengel [1926-2009], Crucifixion, 51-63). (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159-60)
Further disapproval came from the fact that an eschatological savior did not fit the Greek worldview in the first place. George T. Montague (b. 1929) explains:
The Greek understanding of time and history were not eschatological: it did not have a conception of a goal toward which history was moving. “Time,” Aristotle [384-322 BCE] said, “is a kind of circle.” Thus a religious founder should be one who more than any other would lead one to contemplate the order and harmony of the universe and lead humanity to a more harmonious subjection to its inevitability. This was at least the view of the Stoics, who were Paul’s contemporaries and with whom he argued in Athens (Acts 17:18). In short, such a founder should be a philosopher. A founder who stands the world’s values on its head by going to death on a cross—the fate of the criminal dregs of humanity—would indeed have no chance of winning the Greek, even less by claiming that the cross was followed by the resurrection of the body. As for the Jewish critic, the apparent failure of one who claimed to be the Messiah was proof that he was not. That is why it takes a special grace, a divine call, to read in the cross more than stupidity and weakness. (Montague, First Corinthians (Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture), 47)
Margaret E. Thrall (1928-2010) adds:
Cultured pagans, with the example of Socrates [469-399 BCE] in mind, might well admire Jesus as a wise and good teacher unjustly put to death. But the idea that his death was itself part of a divine plan for the welfare of mankind would be sheer stupidity to such people as these. (Thrall, First and Second Letters of Paul to the Corinthians (Cambridge Bible Commentary), 21)
The familiarity of Christianity has dulled awareness to the foolishness of a crucified Christ. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) reminds:
As religions go, Christianity is the most unreasonable. It proclaims that a crucified criminal is the saviour of the world. Today’s Christians cannot appreciate the incredulous revulsion which was the normal reaction to the proclamation of the gospel in the first century. Both Jews and Greeks agreed that the idea of a crucified saviour was a scandal and a folly (I Corinthians 1:23). (O’Connor, 1 Corinthians: A Guide for Reflection and Prayer (Daily Bible Commentary), 22)
Ian S. Markham (b. 1962) concurs:
From time to time, Christians should stand back and acknowledge how odd our faith looks. For Christians claim that the most important divine action in history is the humiliating death of a poor Jew at the hands of an occupying power. The central Christian symbol is the ancient equivalent of the hangman’s noose or the electric chair. Instead of a dramatic demonstration of God’s power, we have weakness. It is odd. And it is to us now as it was to the first Christians. (David L. Bartlett [b. 1941] and Barbara Brown Taylor [b. 1951], Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 2, Lent through Eastertide, 86)
Patrick J. Ryan (b.1939) accents:
Paul, firing his first two salvos against his critics in the Corinthian Christian community, noted that neither Jews demanding signs of God’s power to deliver them from bondage nor Greeks looking for philosophical insight or wisdom could make sense of a crucified messiah: “a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23). At the center of our Christian churches we have, not a bowl of flowers nor an empty space, but a grisly instrument of capital punishment. We venerate the image of a crucified man, the temple of his body destroyed and raised in three days. Whether that image shows Jesus as the majestic Messiah enthroned on the cross or as the Suffering Servant twisted in his final agony, it demonstrates a central mystery of our faith. (Ryan, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross: Scriptural Reflections for Lent, 64-65)
Like many contemporary people, both Jews and Gentiles were looking for God on their own terms. A crucified Christ cut across the expectations of both groups as the cross precluded its victim from being a conquering king or an incontestable philosopher. In short, God did not present the Savior the people desired.

Richard E. Oster, Jr. (b. 1947) recognizes:

Quite often God does not offer to individuals what they want, especially as incentives to faith. It is especially clear in the death of God’s Anointed, that the desire to root faith in the soil of human understanding of how and when God should act has to be abandoned. Accordingly, Paul reaffirms that his message does not takes its cue from the religious passion of his contemporaries for signs and wisdom; rather he offers a crucified Messiah. The Pauline gospel is a stumbling block...to the unbelieving Jews for the very reason that it fails, in their preconceived theology, to reflect an understanding of God and his kingdom that has any attraction to them. The Gentiles likewise regard the message of Paul as foolishness because it is so antithetical to the supposedly enlightened wisdom they have developed and taught for centuries. (Oster, 1 Corinthians (College Press NIV Commentary), 65)
In responding to the crucifixion, Jews and Gentiles are in the strange position of being in the same boat. The Message paraphrases, “Jews treat this like an anti-miracle—and Greeks pass it off as absurd.” The politics of the cross makes for strange bedfellows.

Raymond F. Collins (b. 1935) connects:

Because of their own cultural traditions with respect to knowledge Jews and Gentiles are closed to the gospel of the crucified Christ. With respect to salvation and their appropriation of the salvific word of the cross both Jews and Gentiles ultimately share a common lot. The equality with respect to salvation of both Jew and Gentile is a major theme of Paul’s “last will and testament,” the letter to the Romans (Romans 1:16-3:20, 9-11). (Collins, First Corinthians (Sacra Pagina), 107)
As the cross alienates Jews and Gentiles alike, Paul misses his two primary target audiences: both the religious and the secular are offended by the cross. Cornelia Cyss Crocker (b. 1955) grants:
Paul himself states that his message was either regarded as a scandal or as utter folly (I Corinthians 1:23), depending on people’s background and perspective. One can imagine many in his audience shaking their heads and walking away in disbelief because someone who bore the messianic title could not possibly have been crucified or, rather, someone who had been crucified could not possibly bear the messianic title any longer. To claim such a thing would be a complete contradiction in terms, a true oxymoron. At the very least, professing Jesus as Christ and setting that in conjunction with death by crucifixion would point at a paradoxical, highly tensive, and profoundly aporetic reality. (Crocker, Reading 1 Corinthians in the Twenty-First Century, 56-57)
Frederick Buechner (b. 1926) concedes:
The message that a convicted felon was the bearer of God’s forgiving and transforming love was hard enough for anybody to swallow and for some especially so. For hellenized sophisticates-the Greeks, as Paul puts it - it could only seem absurd. What uglier, more supremely inappropriate symbol of, say, Plato [427-347 BCE]’s Beautiful and Good could there be than a crucified Jew? And for the devout Jew, what more scandalous image of the Davidic king-messiah, before whose majesty all the nations were at last to come to heel?...Paul’s God didn’t look much like what they were after, and Paul was the first to admit it. Who stood by Jesus when the going got rough, after all? (Buechner, “Paul Sends His Love”, Secrets in the Dark, 198-99)
Roy E. Ciampa (b. 1958) and Brian S. Rosner (b. 1959) decipher:
To those hoping for something impressive and irrefutable, Paul preaches the altogether odd and unexpected: Christ crucified. This is akin to proclaiming as good news that the victor has been vanquished, the market has collapsed, or the holiday has been cancelled. It is only our familiarity that dulls the strangeness of Paul’s message for us. In the most general sense, the “Christ” is the king destined to rule. To announce his ignominious demise is to brand him an utter failure and would hardly seem to constitute a “gospel.” Archibald Robertson [1863-1934] and Alfred Plummer [1841-1926] explain the understandable disappointment for both Jews and Greeks at such preaching: “The Jews demanded a victorious Christ, heralded by signs, who would restore the glories of the kingdom of David and Solomon...Christ was not preached as a conqueror to please the one, nor as a philosopher to please the other...Both had to learn the divine character of humility.” As Philippians 2:1-11 indicates, this aspect of the work of Christ has ethical implications. If Christ “humbled himself...even to death on a cross,” then being “like-minded” and “doing nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit” follow as imperatives for his people. These qualities are the very things the Corinthians are lacking. (Ciampa and Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians (Pillar New Testament Commentary), 99-100)
The problematic nature of the cross was virtually universal. Martin E. Marty (b. 1928) summarizes:
In one of the earliest documents of the faith a letter-writer named Paul agreed that Jesus Christ was a “stumbling block [=scandal] to the Jews and foolishness to the Gentiles” (I Corinthians 1:23), which meant that he was a problem to just about everyone. (Marty, The Christian World: A Global History, xiii)
In light of these obvious difficulties, belief is nothing short of a miracle. And yet Christianity with its counter intuitive message of a crucified Christ has endured for centuries. Part of its success is due to the fact that, in spite of its repulsive nature, people like Paul have preached the doctrine of the crucified Christ unapologetically, never diminishing or disguising its power.

Mark D. Roberts (b. 1957) admits:

The essence of Paul’s “full disclosure of truth” was precisely what his Corinthian opponents sought to hide: the unsettling truth of Christ’s death and the call to imitate his sacrifice. Paul understood that the message of the Cross was not an attractive one...He explained, “So when we preach that Christ was crucified, the Jews are offended, and the Greeks say it’s all nonsense (I Corinthians 1:23). Yet Paul told the whole truth about Christ, even at the risk of having his message rejected as foolishness. (Roberts, Dare to Be True: Living in the Freedom of Complete Honesty, 35)
Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (b. 1935) defends:
No orator, even the most skillful, could devise arguments to make a crucified Savior either intelligible or palatable. Such arguments have to be rooted in commonly accepted values. Both Jews and Gentiles, however, agreed that the idea was “scandal” and “folly” (I Corinthians 1:23). This consensus condemned any attempt to present a crucified Christ in a favorable light. Thus, there was an inherent contradiction between rhetoric and the Pauline gospel. The former manifested “the wisdom of the world,” whereas the latter was the product of the “wisdom of God.” The gospel could be made rational only by suppressing its most distinctive feature, the crucifixion of Jesus. The insidious danger at Corinth was that those who wished to give the gospel an attractive rhetorical presentation did not have to deny the crucifixion formally. All they had to do was to pass over it in silence. It sufficed to stress “the Lord of Glory” (I Corinthians 2:8) and to make no mention of crucifixion. (Elizabeth A. Dreyer [b. 1945], “Crucifixion in the Pauline Letters”, The Cross in Christian Tradition: From Paul to Bonaventure [1221-1274], 39)
Thankfully, Paul resists the temptation to give his audience what they want. Richard B. Hays (b. 1948) reflects:
Paul’s language throughout this section [I Corinthians 1:18-25] revels in the paradoxical twists of God’s grace. This is not, however, just a Pauline rhetorical tour de force. The fundamental theological point is that if the cross itself is God’s saving event, all human standards of evaluation are overturned. This outlandish message confounds Jews and Greeks alike, who quite understandably seek evidence of a more credible sort, either empirical demonstrations of power (“signs”) or rationally persuasive argumentation (“wisdom”). But the apostle offers neither. Instead, “we proclaim Christ crucified” (I Corinthians 1:23). (Hayes, First Corinthians (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching & Preaching), 30)
This message is still relevant as most people today would prefer a conquering Messiah who fixes all of their problems to a crucified Christ. As such, addressing the cross is crucial for the contemporary church.

The Christian belief in a crucified Christ has always been nothing less than radical. Craig G. Bartholomew (b. 1961) and Michael W. Goheen (b. 1955) observe:

The New Testament is unique in ancient literature in interpreting the crucifixion in a positive way, as the greatest of God’s actions in history. Paul proclaims that “the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (I Corinthians 1:18). But he and the other New Testament writers are entirely aware that their view of this event attracts scorn. To the Romans, the cross is utter foolishness, crucifixion is merely the worst of the punishments routinely meted out to Rome’s enemies. They are humiliated, defeated, tortured beyond human endurance, exposed in their weakness—and then they die. Beyond that, the cross is a random act of cruelty...Yet the early church makes the bold and fantastic claim that the cross is the central act of God in all of human history! (Bartholomew and Goheen, Drama of Scripture, The: Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story, 163)
Daniel L. Migliore (b. 1935) professes:
The power of the triune God is omnipotent love. Christ crucified is the power of God unto salvation (I Corinthians 1:23-24). The love of God made known supremely in the cross of Christ has all the power necessary to accomplish the divine purpose of creating and redeeming the world and bringing it to its appointed goal. (Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding: An Introduction to Christian Theology, Second Edition, 86)
The cross confronts human preconceptions of wisdom and strength (I Corinthians 1:25). It serves as a reminder that God’s ways are not our ways and things may not be quite as they seem.

Anthony C. Thiselton (b. 1937) relays:

To...both Jews and Greeks...whom God has called, the cross of Christ constitutes precisely the mode of action which conveys God’s power and God’s wisdom. It does not rest on human calculations about signs of the times, nor upon manipulative devices which entice belief, nor does it rest on self-defeating strategies to master life techniques by human wisdom. God’s manifestation of power and wisdom operates on a different basis, namely, the way of love which accepts the constraints imposed by the human condition or plight and the prior divine act of promise, and becomes effective and operative (has power) in God’s own way, for it corresponds with God’s own nature as revealed in Christ and in the cross. Any version of the gospel which substitutes a message of personal success for the cross is a manipulative counterfeit. Eberhard Jüngel [b. 1934] writes, “God defined himself as love on the cross of Jesus. If the cross, as the world’s turning point, is the foundation and measure of metaphorical language about God, then such language itself has the function of bringing about a turning around, or change of direction. God cannot be spoken of as if everything remained as it was.”...In this sense, God’s power and God’s wisdom do indeed become actualized in, through, and even as Christ: Christ, God’s power and God’s wisdom. But because the cross is a turning point and criterion which may reverse assumptions and values, we should be cautious about applying without very careful qualifications the everyday meanings, or even theological meanings, of power and wisdom as they occur in other texts. (Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 172)
Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) agrees:
In contrast to both Jews and Gentiles, Paul preaches the paradoxical notion of a crucified God. This apparently powerless and foolish deity allowed himself to be killed by Romans — a scandal to Jews and foolishness to pagans. Yet this crucified messiah is both the wisdom and power of God for salvation for believers, so that salvation would not be the result of human effort or wisdom. Thus the foolishness of God outstrips human wisdom and the weakness of God exceeds human strength. (Witherington, Conflict and Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians, 113)
The cross also has spiritual ramifications. K.K. Yeo (b. 1960) sees:
Paul wants to bring the Corinthian Christians to a higher spiritual awareness via the “crucified Christ” (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2)—a “politics of metaphor” (Yung Suk Kim 2008). Robert E. Allinson [b. 1942] describes this phenomenon similarly for Zhuangzi as the “myth of deconstruction and reconstruction” for the sake of self-transformation (Allinson 2003; 1989). For example, in the first chapter of the Zhuangzi, there is “the myth of a fish that is deconstructed as a fish and reconstructed as a bird” (Burton Watson [b. 1925] 1968: 4). Paul preached only “Christ crucified’ to the Corinthian Christians, so that they would deconstruct the surrounding cultures’ ideals of power (Romans), religion (Jews), and wisdom/philosophy (Greeks). Through such self-deconstruction, they could then reconstruct holistic life found only in the “weakness” of God, “miracle-less” faith, and “foolish” understanding (I Corinthians 1-2). (Yung Suk Kim, “Pauline Theological Counseling of Love in the Language of the Zhuangzi”, 1 and 2 Corinthians (Texts@Contexts), 122)
The cross also has far reaching political implications. A crucified Christ represents the wisdom of another kingdom, one not found in any earthly political system (I Corinthians 1:25). Attempting to advance oneself with humans utilizes decidedly different methodologies than doing the same with God. In light of this, many interpreters have viewed the cross as subversive.

Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) writes:

In effect, both Jew and Greek become adversaries of the crucified Christ. “The cross always remains scandal and foolishness for Jew and Gentile, inasmuch as it exposes man’s illusion that he can transcend himself and effect his own salvation, that can all by himself maintain his own strength, his own wisdom, how own piety, and his own self-praise even toward God” (Ernst Käsemann [1906-1998], “Saving Significance,” 40). There is more involved in this theology of Christ crucified, because Paul is going to use it to transcend all individualism and interpersonal disputes in order to make it the basis on which the Christians of Corinth should be building their unity, agreement, and community life itself (see Raymond Pickett [b. 1955], The Cross in Corinth 37-68). Mark T. Finney (“Christ Crucified”) goes so far as to maintain that Paul is seeking to undermine the imperial cult (emperor worship) among the Corinthians, at least among those who became Christians. (Fitzmyer, First Corinthians (Anchor Bible), 159-60)
P. Travis Kroeker (b. 1957) philosophizes:
Paul’s messianism will not accommodate conventional discourses of human mastery – which is to say, all conventional political discourses. In contrast to the Weberian “secularization thesis” (influenced by Friedrich Nietzsche [1844-1900]) that interprets Paul’s apocalyptic messianism as one of indifference to worldly conditions, recent continental thinkers such as Alain Badiou [b. 1937], Stanislas Breton [1912-2005], Jacob Taubes [1923-1987], and Giorgio Agamben [b. 1942] interpret it as radically political, a challenge to the politics of conventional human and especially national sovereignty. (Stephen Westerholm [b. 1949], The Blackwell Companion to Paul, 441-42)
Yung Suk Kim assents:
Paul utterly identifies with Christ crucified (I Corinthians 1:23, 2:2), which is God’s power and wisdom that deconstructs the Corinthian power and wisdom based on a certain knowledge or spiritual gifts. Christ’s body imagined through Christ crucified gives hope to the weak and marginalized in the community, even in the midst of their liminal, marginal experience—just as Christ necessarily did. Christ crucified is a symbol and the power of God reaching out to the downtrodden, the dregs of the world. In short, accounting for the crucified body as a dimension of the “body of Christ” provides us with a vision of the “body of Christ” in radical association with the broken bodies in the world. (Kim, Christ’s Body in Corinth: The Politics of a Metaphor, 31)
The cross bleeds over into all aspects of the Christian life. It is necessary; Christianity cannot be Christianity without the cross. Hence this scandalous foolishness becomes the central message. The crucified Christ becomes the answer to all seekers and questioners, whether they seek signs or wisdom.

If you had to reduce your belief system to two words, what would they be? What is your favorite oxymoron? Is Paul incorporating synthetic parallelism; are scandal and foolish to be viewed on the same plane? What are contemporary impediments to the gospel? What other times has God acted foolishly by human standards? Is thinking logically and/or having an education a deterrent to accepting the gospel (I Corinthians 1:26)? What are the modern equivalents to the objections posed by these New Testament Jews and Gentiles (I Corinthians 1:23)? In what ways did Jesus meet the expectations of the Greeks and Jews? In any way did he exceed them? When has God fulfilled your needs but not given you what you wanted or expected? For you, what is the least attractive tenet of Christianity? Does the resurrection cause you to stumble?

Paul’s original readers would have been well aware and in full agreement that outsiders struggled with the cross. It was likely a matter with which they were often confronted. Paul, however, is not writing to lecture about outsiders. He is addressing insiders, specifically errant Christians. In building up his opposition, Paul unites his core. Sociologist Georg Simmel (1858-1918) argued that nothing unites a group more than a common enemy (Simmel, “The Sociology of Conflict: I” American Journal of Sociology 9 (1903): 490-525). But in returning to the cross, Paul is doing far more than unifying his congregation against bolstered competition.

Throughout the epistle, Paul confronts incongruities which have fragmented the church in Corinth (I Corinthians 1:11-13). The apostle’s consistent focus on the cross undercuts elitist perspectives and promotes unity. Paul uses the reminder of the crucifixion to ground the Corinthian congregation.

Though he is prone to do so, the apostle has not gone off on a tangent. Kenneth L. Chafin (1926-2001) refocuses:

There are times when Paul seems to interrupt himself to explore a different subject before coming back to his original line of thought. A casual reading of I Corinthians 1:18-25 might lead us to think that Paul had picked up on his own mentioning of the gospel and is now turning aside from his discussion of divisions to pursue that subject. Rather, he is launching his criticisms by insisting that the party spirit in the church is caused by false wisdom, human pride, and by loyalty to human leaders. It is not the gospel he has preached that has brought division. The word of the Cross that he had preached was the source of true wisdom and unity. Consequently, the divisions within the church must have come from that worldly wisdom which cannot accept the preaching of the Cross. (Chafin, 1, 2 Corinthians (Mastering the New Testament, 37-38)

Pheme Perkins (b. 1945) teaches:

The gospel of Christ crucified shapes Paul’s response to many of the practical problems addressed in the letter (Dieter Zeller [b. 1939] 2010, 64-66). The apostle has shaped his life in response to the call received from God. His responsibility for the churches reflects that relationship with God. (Perkins, First Corinthians (Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament), 44)
Alexandra R. Brown (b. 1955) writes of this power of the cross in her book The Cross and Human Transformation: Paul’s Apocalyptic Word in 1 Corinthians. James L. Jaquette (b. 1954) reviews:
In our time the cross is often more a source of controversy than a sign of peace. While aware of differing points of view, Alexandra Brown shows that Paul’s proclamation of the cross was an inclusive and empowering word of liberation, peace, and reconciliation. (Brown, The Cross and Human Transformation: Paul’s Apocalyptic Word in 1 Corinthians, back cover)
There is great power in the cross. It serves as a constant reminder that it is not about us. Not the least of its power is its bent to unite believers at its foot. The cross is a meeting place for foolish people. And fools ought stick together.

Should more emphasis be placed on the scandal of the cross? If this aspect was stressed would Christians be more unified? Have you ever attended a divided church? What issues are worth splitting a church? Is Christ bigger than our differences?

“God allows himself to be edged out of the world and onto the cross. God is weak and powerless in the world, and that is exactly the way, the only way, in which he can be with us and help us.” - Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), Reflections On The Bible: Human Word And Word Of God, p. 96