Blinded by Grace

Thessalonica and the Tumult of the Gospel

After leaving Philippi, Silas, Timothy, and I traveled the Roman road known as the Via Egnatia, making our way to Thessalonica, the capital of Macedonia. It was a large, bustling city, a strategic hub for trade and commerce, and one of the most influential cities in the region. If the gospel took root here, it would spread far and wide.

When we arrived, we followed our usual pattern. We sought out the local synagogue, and for three Sabbaths, I reasoned with the Jews from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Messiah had to suffer and rise from the dead.

“This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Messiah,” I declared.

Some of the Jews were persuaded, along with a large number of God-fearing Greeks and quite a few prominent women of the city. The gospel was taking hold, just as it had in other cities, and I could see the beginnings of a thriving church forming in Thessalonica. These new believers were hungry for the truth, eager to grow in their faith. They were turning from idols to serve the living and true God.

But, as always, opposition soon followed.

The Jews who rejected the message became envious of the growing number of converts. They could see the influence we were having, and it threatened their control over the synagogue. In their frustration, they gathered some troublemakers from the marketplace and formed a mob. Their goal was simple: to incite the city against us and put an end to our preaching.

The mob descended on the house of a man named Jason, where we had been staying. Jason was one of the new believers, and he had opened his home to us. But when the mob couldn’t find us there, they dragged Jason and some other believers before the city officials, shouting accusations against us.

“These men who have caused trouble all over the world have now come here,” they cried. “And Jason has welcomed them into his house! They are all defying Caesar’s decrees, saying that there is another king, one called Jesus.”

The city was in an uproar. The idea of proclaiming Jesus as King was seen as a direct challenge to Caesar, and that was a dangerous accusation in the Roman Empire. The city officials were alarmed by the commotion, and they made Jason and the others post bond, essentially forcing them to guarantee that there would be no further disturbances.

It became clear that our presence in Thessalonica was causing too much tension. The believers, concerned for our safety, urged us to leave the city under cover of night. Reluctantly, we agreed. It wasn’t the way I wanted to leave. I had grown attached to the Thessalonian believers in such a short time, and I knew they still needed guidance. But the Spirit was directing us to move on.

We left for Berea, another city further west. When we arrived, we followed the same pattern, going first to the synagogue. But unlike in Thessalonica, the Jews in Berea were open-minded and eager to hear the message. They received the word with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what we said was true. Many of them believed, along with a number of prominent Greek men and women. It was refreshing to see such a hunger for the truth.

But, as had happened in other cities, trouble followed us. When the Jews in Thessalonica heard that we were preaching in Berea, they came there, too, stirring up the crowds against us. The opposition was relentless. These men were determined to silence the message of Jesus, no matter the cost.

The believers in Berea, recognizing the danger, quickly took action. They sent me away to the coast, while Silas and Timothy remained behind to continue teaching and strengthening the new believers. I hated leaving them, but the situation was too volatile. My heart was heavy as I boarded the ship, knowing that my time with these new believers had been cut short once again.

My destination was Athens, a city renowned for its philosophy, art, and culture. It was the intellectual capital of the ancient world, a place where people loved to debate new ideas. As I walked through the city, I was struck by how full it was of idols. Everywhere I looked, there were statues and altars to various gods. The city was drowning in its devotion to false gods, and my spirit was deeply troubled.

I spent time in the synagogue, reasoning with the Jews and God-fearing Greeks, but I also took my message to the marketplace, engaging with the philosophers and thinkers of the city. It didn’t take long before I caught the attention of some Epicurean and Stoic philosophers. They were intrigued by my teaching about Jesus and the resurrection, but they didn’t fully understand it.

“What is this babbler trying to say?” some of them asked, mocking me. Others said, “He seems to be advocating foreign gods.”

They brought me to the Areopagus, the high court of Athens, where people gathered to hear new ideas and debate them. Standing before the council, I addressed the men of Athens, using their own cultural context to point them toward the truth.

“Men of Athens,” I began, “I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: ‘To an unknown god.’ Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you.”

I spoke to them about the one true God, the Creator of all things, who doesn’t live in temples made by human hands and isn’t served by human needs. I told them how God had made all nations from one man and determined their times and places so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him, though He is not far from any of us.

“For in Him we live and move and have our being,” I quoted from their own poets, hoping to connect with them in a way they could understand.

I then declared the truth about Jesus, His death, and His resurrection, urging them to repent because God had set a day when He would judge the world with justice through Jesus, the one He had raised from the dead.

When they heard about the resurrection, some of them sneered, mocking the idea of the dead being raised. But others were curious and said, “We want to hear you again on this subject.”

Though the response was mixed, a few people believed that day, including a man named Dionysius, a member of the Areopagus, and a woman named Damaris. It wasn’t the sweeping revival I had hoped for, but I trusted that God was working in the hearts of those who had heard the truth.

After some time in Athens, I left and made my way to Corinth, where I would stay for a longer period. I knew that the gospel would continue to spread, and that God’s plans were far greater than I could see in any one moment. Every city was different, every response varied, but the mission remained the same: to proclaim Jesus as Lord, to both Jews and Gentiles, no matter the cost.

And though the path was often difficult, I knew that the power of the gospel was unstoppable. The seeds were being planted, and God would bring the harvest in His time.