Acts 17:22-23 Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars’ hill, and said, “Men of Athens, I perceive that in all things you are very religious; for as I was passing through and considering the objects of your worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Therefore, the One whom you worship without knowing, Him I proclaim to you:
Several hundred years before Jesus was born, a plague broke out in Athens, Greece. In an effort to stop the plague and appease the ‘gods’, the Athenians sought counsel from a wise man named Epimenides from the island of Crete.
When Epimenides arrived in Athens, he was amazed at the number of statues of gods the Athenians had erected, to which he stated, “Gods must be easier to find here than men!”
The elders of Athens eagerly gathered on Mars Hill the following day to hear the wisdom of Epimenides and his recommendation for dealing with the plague. So the wise man instructed the Athenians to gather at Mars Hill, bringing with them a flock of sheep, a band of stonemasons and a large supply of stones and mortar. He also commanded that the sheep be prevented from grazing the entire night so that when they arrived the following morning they would be hungry.
The following morning, Epimenides stated, “Learned elders, you have already expended great effort in offering sacrifice to numerous gods, yet all have proved futile. I am now about to sacrifice based upon three assumptions rather different than yours.”
“The first assumption is that there is still another god concerned in this matter of the plague—a god whose name is unknown to us, and who is therefore not represented by any idol in your country. Secondly, I am going to assume also that this god is great enough—and good enough—to do something about the plague, if only we invoke his help. Thirdly, that any god great enough and good enough to do something about this plague is probably also great and good enough to smile upon us in our ignorance—if we acknowledge our ignorance and call upon him!”
Next, Epimenides ordered the sheep to be released, and he prayed, “O thou unknown god! Behold the plague afflicting this city! And if indeed you feel compassion to forgive and help us, behold this flock of sheep! Reveal your willingness to respond, I plead, by causing any sheep that pleases you to lie down upon the grass instead of grazing. Choose white if white pleases, black if black delights. And those you choose we sacrifice to you—acknowledging our pitiful ignorance of your name!”
As the sheep were released, the people were shocked when the sheep started lying down instead of grazing! Wherever they lay, an altar was erected and a sacrifice was made to the “unknown god!” The Athenians were freed from their plague, and the legend of their deliverance at the hands of the “unknown god” continued unto the time of Paul when he entered into Athens.
This amazing event became Paul’s point of departure for reaching the Athenians with the gospel of Jesus. God had laid a historical foundation to prepare their hearts for seeking and believing in a legendary “unknown god”; a god who had already demonstrated his saving power among them, but one whom the apostle had now come to identify…. and fully reveal to them!
God continues even now, preparing souls in mysterious ways, throughout the world! He is looking for laborers to go into the harvest fields! And no matter where you are, there’s a harvest field right outside your door…so go forth!
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.