Acts 17

Acts 17 — Commentary and Meaning

The short answer

Acts 17 follows Paul through three cities—Thessalonica, Berea, and Athens—but it is Athens that gives the chapter its lasting fame. Waiting there for his companions, Paul is troubled by a city crowded with idols. He argues in the synagogue and in the marketplace, where Epicurean and Stoic philosophers overhear him and bring him to the Areopagus, the hill where Athenians debated new ideas, to explain this strange teaching.

Paul's speech is a masterpiece of meeting people where they are. He begins not with rebuke but with observation: he has seen their altar inscribed "TO AN UNKNOWN GOD" (17:23), and he offers to name the God they worship without knowing. He even quotes their own poets—the God he proclaims is the one in whom "we live, and move, and have our being" (17:28). This God made the world, does not live in temples built by hands, and is not far from any of us.

But Paul does not stop where the philosophers are comfortable. Having started from what Athens already senses, he presses on to what Athens has never heard: God calls everyone to repent, has fixed a day of judgment, and has given proof of it by raising a man from the dead. The resurrection is the point where polite interest breaks apart. Some mock, some defer the conversation to another day, and a few—including Dionysius and Damaris—believe.

The chapter, then, is not just a travel narrative. It is a model of how faith speaks to a culture full of spiritual longing but short on definite belief: with respect, with intelligence, and without trimming away the claims that scandalize.

Thomas G. Long takes up the preacher's side of Acts 17:23, arguing that modern spiritual seekers find it easy to dismiss doctrines like the resurrection of the body because they have never heard them proclaimed with intelligence and passion. Christopher Elwood shows how Calvin builds his account of knowing God and knowing ourselves from Paul's words in Acts 17:28—we cannot understand who we are apart from the one in whom we exist.

“Second, preaching must now move beyond the gentle stories and the warm pastoral encouragements and take up the harder and more meticulous work of challenging the shallow spiritualities of our time— “What you therefore worship as unknown,” Paul said, “this I proclaim to you” (Acts 17:23)—and teaching the grammar of the gospel. It is easy for today’s gnostics to reject the doctrines of the incarnation, providence, and eschatology as intellectually bankrupt and meaningless when they have never heard them proclaimed with intelligence and passion. It is easy for today’s gnostics to scoff at the idea of an empty tomb or the resurrection of the body when the only category they have for imagining them is as some crude supernatural magic show.”

Thomas G. Long · Bandy Professor Emeritus of Preaching, Candler School of Theology, Preaching from Memory to Hope Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Long in Rebind →

“On one hand, it seems that we would need to have an understanding of who we are before we set about to contemplate more lofty matters. But we cannot think about ourselves without thinking about where we have come from, about the one who has created us, the one in whom we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). On the other hand, we don’t have a clear vision of ourselves unless we look at the one who is our Creator. Rather than choosing one or the other as a starting point, Calvin says we need to look at both. We need to consider the relation of God and ourselves. And that will mean moving back and forth between reflection on who God is and who we human beings are, in the context of this relation.”

Christopher Elwood, A Brief Introduction to John Calvin Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved. More from Elwood in Rebind →

Most of us live in something like Athens—a world full of spiritual curiosity, vague reverence, and altars to gods no one can quite name. Acts 17 suggests two things at once. First, that longing is not the enemy of faith; Paul treats it as a starting point, common ground worth honoring. Second, common ground is not the destination. Real conversation about God eventually reaches claims that can't be softened—repentance, judgment, resurrection—and honesty requires saying them plainly. Whether you're the one asking questions or the one answering them, this chapter invites you to do both without flattery and without fear.

Acts 17 sits in the middle of Paul's second missionary journey. In Thessalonica his preaching sparks a riot; in Berea he finds listeners who examine the scriptures daily to test what he says; then persecution pushes him on to Athens alone. The Areopagus speech (17:22–31) is the chapter's centerpiece and the fullest example in Acts of Paul addressing a purely pagan, philosophically literate audience—no synagogue background assumed. The mixed response in Athens leads directly into chapter 18, where Paul moves on to Corinth.