Athens is unusually busy this afternoon. I was feeling particularly gloomy and decided a walk was just what I needed. The philosophers were bound to be arguing at the Areopagus and I always enjoyed a heated debate, so off I went, pinning my blonde locks into a crown pattern atop my head to keep the heat at bay.

I don’t know why I’ve been feeling so down. Athens is beautiful in spring time. I’ve always enjoyed the bougainvillea trees and they just started to bloom. But lately I feel like there is no point. Why am I here? What do the gods want with me? Surely there is more to this life than just being just a pawn in the gods great game. Epimenides himself argued that Zeus was immortal. And how should I know if I’m good enough to cross the River Styx and end up in Elysium? These three judges of the underworld, what right do they have to judge me? Perhaps the philosophers can shed some light on my woes. I try to do good. I try to do the right thing and have compassion. Is it enough?

I can see the Areopagus just down the road. Its rocky outcrop makes for the perfect stage setting the speakers above the audience members. As I get closer I can definitely tell it’s busier than usual. And there is a man I’ve never seen before speaking up on the rock. 

“His name is Paul,” I hear someone whisper as I approach.

“A Jew,” another answers.

“What’s going on,” I ask a fellow Greek.

“This Paul, he’s talking about the invisible god, that he’s the only God. Creator of man himself just like Aratus said. He’s also talking about some nonsense about the resurrection of the son of God who came to save all people to be immortal with him forever. Crazy right?”

Crazy indeed, but I find myself inching closer to the Areopagus’ edge and listening more intently. This grace that Paul is speaking about pulls at my heart. I need to know more.