The Babbler's Journey Part 1: A City Full of Idols
Reflection on Acts 17:16
In 2017, I was scheduled to travel to Africa for the first time. My destination: Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, for a 10-day filmmaking workshop. I was nervous but comforted by the fact that I wouldn’t be making the journey alone. The plan was to meet my two traveling companions in New York and fly together the rest of the way.
But plans sometimes unravel.
A foggy morning delayed my flight, and I landed at JFK just in time to watch their plane pushing back from the gate. My heart sank. The next flight wouldn’t leave for another 24 hours. I faced not only the hassle of rebooking my ticket and finding last-minute lodging but also the daunting prospect of navigating a long journey to an unfamiliar continent alone. When I finally arrived in Addis Ababa a day later, both my suitcases—including one packed with expensive workshop gear—were missing. I felt the weight of isolation… until two members of our host organization, strangers until that moment, welcomed me at the airport. Their warm hospitality eased my transition into a large, strange city I had never experienced.
I think of that moment when I read Acts 17:16.
Here we find Paul, separated from Silas and Timothy, alone in Athens. It’s possible this was the first time Paul had been truly alone since he set off on his missionary journeys. He had fled Berea in haste, sent away by sea for his own safety. Though the distance to Athens was only about 45 miles, nothing was easy in those days—travel was exhausting, uncertain, and often dangerous. By the time he arrived, he was likely weary from the journey and, perhaps, longing for the strength and encouragement of his companions.
And then there was Athens itself. Luke writes,
“Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols.” (Acts 17:16)
Imagine Paul standing on a hilltop, looking out over a city crowned with temples. The Acropolis towered above him, with its Parthenon dedicated to Athena and the Temple of Hephaestus nearby. Statues and shrines crowded the streets and marketplaces. Every hill seemed to carry a monument to a god. Athens was a place of beauty and culture, but its religious landscape betrayed hearts lost in a maze of man-made myths. It was, in a sense, a city seeking meaning—“spending their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new” (v. 21)—yet utterly blind to the truth. Paul’s response was deeply emotional. The word provoked suggests a mix of anger, distress, and spiritual agitation. As a highly trained Jew and Pharisee leader, he would have viewed the rampant idolatry of Athens as a direct assault on God’s holiness and His sacred commandments.
Paul could have withdrawn, discouraged by his isolation and the overwhelming idolatry before him. But he didn’t.
Instead, he entered their gathering places—the synagogue and the marketplace—and began reasoning with anyone who would listen. He engaged the philosophers of the Areopagus, some of whom dismissed him as a “babbler” (spermologos—literally, a seed-picker, like a scavenging bird collecting random scraps of ideas). Ironically, this accusation would not deter Paul, who himself would later warn Timothy, “Avoid irreverent babble, for it will lead people into more and more ungodliness” (2 Tim. 2:16).
But here in Athens, he recognized the difference between irreverent babble and Gospel truth. He didn’t attack their religious views outright. Instead, he observed their altar “to the unknown god” and began there—acknowledging their religiosity, while pointing them to the God they didn’t know. Some scoffed. Others listened. A few believed. Among them were Dionysius the Areopagite and a woman named Damaris.
The church in Athens was born—not out of Paul’s careful planning or perfect timing, but out of God’s sovereign grace.
Sometimes, the moments that feel most ill-planned or untimely are the very ones God uses to advance His kingdom. Even when we feel alone, weary, or unprepared, He is at work.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Back to my own travel disruptions. My luggage arrived the next day—a minor affliction in the grand scheme of things. After rejoining my team, things still didn’t go as planned. Our guesthouse, connected to a local church, stood across the street from a mosque. Each morning, the pre-dawn call to prayer blared from the minaret at a decibel level no pillow could muffle. I’d like to think it provoked my spirit to righteous anger, but more likely, my emotional response came from being abruptly awakened from a restful sleep—purely a carnal response. Kidding aside, it was a daily reminder that this great city was home to both Christians and Muslims—just as our filmmaking workshop brought together believers and unbelievers. Even amid exhaustion and uncertainty, God gave us opportunities to be salt and light in a city full of competing voices and beliefs.
In those first few days, it felt as if everything that could go wrong did. One by one, our carefully laid plans unraveled as we navigated challenge after challenge. But after several long and exasperating days, we began to see the hand of God move in answer to our prayers. His plans were not ours, and He revealed them in His own way and time. That experience, though off to a rocky start, ended in triumph and remains one of the most rewarding international trips I’ve ever taken. With the Lord’s help—and the unexpected assistance of an amazing group of students—we accomplished our goals and returned home greatly encouraged and refreshed by God’s faithfulness, and blessed with many newly established friendships.
Paul’s time in Athens reminds me that challenges—whether travel delays or spiritual opposition—are often opportunities for God to display His power and faithfulness. The idols he encountered may look different from those we face today, but their grip on human hearts remains the same.
Visible symbols of cultural idolatry may no longer litter the hilltops, but they’re no less pervasive—wealth, success, pleasure, influence. Like Paul, we are called not to retreat in discouragement when we encounter the gods of this present age, but to engage with courage, humility, and Gospel hope.
“God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Corinthians 1:27).
This is why I’ve called this blog The Babbler. If the world dismisses Gospel truth as foolishness or “babble,” then let it be said of us that we carried the words of life—even when they sounded strange to modern ears. Like Paul in Athens, may we speak boldly and winsomely, trusting God to bring the increase.
The Babbler’s Journey Part 2: Always Learning, Never Knowing