On my sabbatical 10 years ago in Los Angeles, California, where I went to explore interracial, multi-ethnic, multi-cultural congregations, I learned how to “read a city.” A gentleman, known by the pastor of one of the churches I visited, literally walked me around a portion of Los Angeles and helped me to see clues to meaning deeper than could be seen at first glance.

He taught me to “read” buildings, signs, streetscapes, and people. He taught me to be wary of simplistic conclusions and quick judgments. The designs on the big Pentecostal church were actually Jewish symbols, pointing to a huge shift in population in the neighborhood many years before. He taught me to see the subtle differences (at least to my eyes) between Chinese lettering and Korean lettering, two rich, but very different cultures. And for the first time, I saw that graffiti, which I typically abhor, in certain places was as much art and individual’s expression as it was gang markings.

In Acts 17 we see that Paul was essentially “reading” the city of Athens. He walked through the city and looked carefully at the objects of their worship. Many commentators simply assume these were statuary and altars specifically meant for devotion, although I trust Paul’s wisdom to have looked deeper than the obvious iconography of veneration and see that buildings, what and who lines the streets, and even clothing tell a story of what and who we adore, revere, and even idolize.

This is his only sermon to a completely non-Jewish/Christian congregation, and thus carries additional importance. I admire his respect for the people there in Athens and his willingness to acknowledge their religious nature. He acknowledged how “extremely religious” they were by the many altars they had.

He recognized, though, that some “altars” were to gods of “gold, silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals” and some altars were to the God “who made the world and everything in it” the one who was “Lord of heaven and earth” who gave “to all mortals life and breath and all things.”

But there was one altar with the inscription, “To an unknown God.” Paul takes this as a type of “elastic clause” or “safety net” where the Athenians were covering all their basis, just in case… and declares this altar was unknowingly dedicated to the God of creation, known first to the Jews and then to the Christians. Much has been made of this proclamation by Paul, and much of this commentary has been smug and self-satisfied.

We must not too quickly fall into the prideful trap of assuming Paul was affirming our religious and spiritual intentions and condemning everyone else’s. I have come to the deep wisdom that just because something is marked “Christian” does not mean it exhibits Christ-like values. Actually, some of the things, places, and people marked most loudly and brazenly with “WWJD” do, in my humble estimation, some things most unlike the Christ I read about in the gospels. The brighter the lights, the louder the sound system, and the bigger the tears does not a deeper faith make.

Likewise, just because something doesn’t seem to have anything to do with God or Jesus or the Judeo-Christian faiths, doesn’t mean there isn’t something deeply godly and spiritual within it. I have witnessed the compassion and love and even righteous indignation of Jesus of Nazareth in persons who never mentioned his name. I have heard good news in stories and situations that had no markings of faith at all.

Perhaps it really is true that God works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it is God’s intentions to remain “unknown.”

My Study & Renewal Leave, both this spring segment and the fall segment, will be geared toward discerning city altars, i.e. “reading” the city, and whether or not – and how – they worship the God in whom we “live and move and have our being.”

One way I will “read the city” will be by worshiping with specifically “Christian” communities radically committed to the diversity of God’s people in urban settings which they embrace & celebrate.

But I will also “read the city” also by photographing the beauty and meaning of God around the city in places and people who might not be specifically labeled “Christian” but in which/in whom I see the image of God, known or unknown.

And finally, more to your liking, I have come to understand, I will “read the city” mostly by enjoying the company of good friends, relaxing, and trust ever more fully that God is indeed never, ever, far from us.

Amen.