One creator—one human family (2024)

Most Athenian philosophers looked down on all other people. The apostle Paul’s declaration that all people, all nations, came from one creator God challenged their unjust attitude. This manual for Bible translators clarified Paul’s meaning: “This first clause, ‘from the one man he created all races of men,’ must often be rather extensively restructured—for example, ‘God created first one man and from that one man came all the races of people’…. it may be rendered as ‘God created all the different kinds of people from one single family’ or ‘God created one single clan from which all the different races of people have come.’” *

• Author Philip Yancey said, “The issue is… how I treat someone with whom I profoundly disagree. We Christians are called to use the ‘weapons of grace,’ which means treating even our opponents with love and respect.” ** Even as Paul challenged the Athenians’ ideas, he showed respect by praising their devotion to an “unknown God.” How did Paul’s tactic echo the way Jesus lived out God’s heart (cf. John 3:16-17)? How can you share your faith with non-religious and nominally religious people without condemning them?
• Few in today’s first world hold the specific Athenian idea Paul challenged: “we have no need to imagine that the divine being is like a gold, silver, or stone image made by human skill and thought.” In what ways, though, can we idolize “human skill and thought” in place of the Creator God? Do you agree with Paul that “God isn’t far away from any of us,” or do you struggle to believe that?

When reading about the arrogance and pride displayed by the philosophers of Athens, my mind instantly connected to a time where I too held myself above others.

I’ve recently gotten very into rock climbing, and although I have only days’ worth of experience under my belt, I still feel ahead of the curve. I’ve gone to rock climbing gyms, I’ve purchased the gear, I’ve studied beginner techniques, and just about all else to get the ball rolling. On Tuesday night of this week, me and a couple buddies discovered the total jackpot of a spot. We had found this long stretch of cliffs, ranging in height, angle, and difficulty. After clearing out the base of the cliffs, my climbing partner and I strapped on our climbing shoes, clipped on our chalk pouches, brainstormed our routes and began our ascent.

After an hour or so of climbing, one of my neighbors found us and wanted to know that all the commotion was about. My neighbor is 16, so to me and my friends, all being 19, he was just a kid. Anyway, I came across this seemingly difficult route. I was about 10 feet up this 30-foot wall and I got stuck. If you know me, you’ll know that I’m not the most nimble or elegant of individuals, so getting stuck while climbing has become a troublesome pattern.

While I was desperately trying to find a way up, my neighbor passed me on my right. As I bailed and descended back to the floor, I watched as my neighbor, with no experience, gear, or passion, topped this route I had made. While my friends cheered and congratulated him for his accomplishment, I stood at the foot of the cliff and sighed. I should have been highlighting my neighbor, but I was too caught up in feelings of jealousy, arrogance, and resentment. My pride had been broken, and I was struck with humility.

Without even meaning to, my neighbor had showed me that joy, in this case with rock climbing, is robbed once you begin to hold yourself above others. After having a little pity party, I did finally get around to congratulating him on topping the cliff. Thinking back on it, I hope to implement what I have found to be true to everything I do. I’m going to try to do better at not putting myself on some imaginary pedestal, and instead being a good team member.