In Berea, where Paul once walked, stands a mosaic, gleaming in the winter’s sun.
The tiny stones depict scenes from his life, including his ministry there.
One particular Berean in the mosaic sits, attentively listening to all Paul is saying.
Balancing the ink pot on his lap, his hands are read to take notes.
Only one word has been written thus far on his scroll,
The simple word τις, Greek for ‘who?’
Who is this God of whom Paul speaks?
Depicted in frescos and mosaics in churches old and new,
The One who created the mountains and seas, sun and moon.
Not even the Parthenon could contain Him,
Nor a grace even as grand as Philip the II’s,
For He is not dead, nor can He be tamed by man.
He enables us to rejoice in His greatness.
He grants us safety, fellowship, and above all love.
At the same time He lets our hearts break along with His, as others suffer from senseless violence and tragedy.
He is the source of our ability to love, which we can do more and more as we live into His love.
Who is God?
As I wander through Greece this question persists.
The Berean offers me an invitation to sit with him, journal and pen at the ready, and listen, or rather read, the words of Paul.