Sermon – Acts 8.26-40, E5, YB, May 2, 2021

Tags

baptism, Ethiopian eunuch, God, Good News, guide, Holy Spirit, listen, patience, Philip, posture, proclaim, pursuit, question, response, Sermon

As we continue our journey of Eastertide, we continue to explore the consequences of the resurrection on our daily living.  This week, we turn to the Acts of the Apostles, and the vivid story between Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch.  What seems like a simple witness story, the apostle Philip teaching and converting the foreign eunuch, is not simple at all.  In fact, we learn from both characters, in very different ways, what posture toward God we should assume, what our responsibility to each other and the community of faith is, and what our response to the resurrection and one another can be.

Our first lesson from these two characters is what posture toward God we can assume.  Philip shows us the posture of responding to God, no matter what the instruction.  Philip is told by an angel of the Lord to go south.  There is no explanation about why he should go or what the itinerary will be, or why he should take the dangerous wilderness road.  Later, the Holy Spirit tells Philip to approach a quickly-moving chariot, containing a person of influence, who may reject this disheveled disciple.  Both times, Philip responds immediately, sprinting to follow the Spirit.  We see in Philip no complaining or whining to God.  Philip hears God’s word of instruction and Philip responds, no questions asked.

We also learn from the eunuch’s posture toward God.  The eunuch is a man of color, looking distinctly different from any Jew from Israel; he is a court official, a man of importance and wealth[i]; his sexual status has been altered, making him barred from the temple.[ii]  So this man, this unnamed eunuch, has both power and a lack of power.  But despite his exclusion from the temple, he is pursuing God.  And, despite his half-fulfilled experience in Jerusalem, he will not be deterred from seeking God.  This outsider by all other standards shows us the posture of constant, undeterred pursuit of God. 

After Philip and the eunuch teach us about the appropriate postures toward God, the pair teaches us about our responsibilities to one another and to the community of faith.  Philip teaches us of our responsibility to serve as guides to one another.[iii]  Imagine for a moment the best teacher you ever had.  Usually our best teachers are not didactic, but are more guides who are in the learning journey with us.  That is exactly what Philip offers when he sits beside the eunuch in the chariot.  He sits beside the foreign, castrated man, and treats him like an equal in the pursuit of following Jesus.  Philip teaches us that our work is to be guides with one another in this journey of growing to know God.

The eunuch teaches us a lot about our responsibilities toward one another too.  As a person of influence and power, the eunuch could have easily brushed off Philip, telling this dirty disciple to get away from his pristine chariot.  But instead, the eunuch is completely unafraid to ask questions.  He willingly admits he needs a guide, he wants to know how to interpret scripture, and he wants to know if he too can be baptized.  His willingness to question reveals a sense of humility and engagement, and a willingness to trust someone in the community to teach him.

After teaching us about the appropriate posture toward God, the responsibilities to one another and the community of faith, Philip and the eunuch finally teach us about what our work or response to God and one another can be.  Philip responds to God by proclaiming the good news.  This step is often the hardest for us.  When the time for proclaiming the gospel comes, we clam up, fear we are not qualified, or are afraid to come off as pushy or sanctimonious.  But Philip shares the good news by telling the eunuch about Jesus, sharing stories of Jesus’ historical ministry, his love for the poor, his death and resurrection, and then finally, how Jesus’ life can be seen in the whole of the salvation narrative.  Sharing the good news is simply a matter of telling a good story. 

Finally, the eunuch shows us the other requirement of faithful living – responding to the good news.  For the eunuch, he hears the good news, and he immediately responds by asking for baptism.  Our liturgy invites us into the same response every week.  We come together as a community; we hear the word of God – those stories that make up the whole of the good news; and we are sent out into the community – to love and serve the Lord.  Church is not just a place to come and feel good.  Church is also a place to be so filled that your enthusiasm for the good news that sends you out into the world with the work God has given you to do. 

This week, I invite you to take Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch with you out into the world.  Perhaps you will work on your willingness to be open to the voice of the Holy Spirit; perhaps you will allow yourself to say aloud those questions that you hide in the depths of your heart; perhaps you will share the holy stories of the faith with another; or perhaps you will patiently sit with someone who is struggling with their faith this week.  Like Philip and the eunuch, who boldly go down to those baptismal waters, we too hold one another’s hands as we leave this space, facing the challenges of this world together.  Amen.

---

[i] Paul W. Walaskay, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 457.

[ii] Walaskay, 457.

[iii] William Brosend, “Unless Someone Guides Me,” Christian Century, vol. 117, no. 15, May 10, 2000, 535.

Sermon – Acts 8.26-40, E5, YB, May 3, 2015

Tags

Acts, Baltimore, Christ, conversion, Ethiopian, eunuch, familiarity, Holy Spirit, life, listen, listening, Philip, race, Sermon, story, together

Have you ever heard a story so many times that you feel like you could recite it from memory?  There was a time in my life when I read the book Good Night Moon so many nights in a row that I could probably have told the story without even turning the pages.  But rereading books is not just a habit of young readers.  Adults do the same thing – we love a book so much that we may read the book again and again.  The familiarity of a story and knowing how the story will end can be quite comforting.  The same could be said of Bible stories too.  Though the Bible is a huge book with tons of stories, we tend to have our favorites that we read again and again.  We read and reread them because they give us a sense of comfort and they steady us in a world of chaos.

The challenge with a familiar story is that we sometimes get so used to hearing the story over and over that we stop really listening to the details.  That is especially true in our story from Acts today.  Philip, the educated evangelist graciously approaches the foreign, outcast eunuch and asks if he needs help interpreting scripture.  He then teaches the eunuch about Jesus, and graciously accepts him into the community of faith by baptizing in a nearby body of water.  In essence, this is a story about how the Jewish followers of Christ graciously open up the community to those who have traditionally been seen as outcasts.

At least that is how the story goes in my memory.  But as I reread the story this week, I began to realize that the comforting tale I had memorized is not quite as simple as I had remembered.  I had always thought of Philip as one of the educated disciples who graciously takes in the eunuch.  But Philip is actually an outsider in this story.  The Philip in our story is not the Philip from Bethsaida, one of the twelve disciples of Jesus.  This Philip is a Greek in Jerusalem, who is one of the seven appointed by the disciples to run the food pantry, the clinic, and the hospice program in Jerusalem so that the Twelve did not need to do that work.[i]  He is not necessarily well-educated, and in fact, is probably pretty disheveled and unseemly, given the relief work he has been doing with the outcasts of society.  The Ethiopian eunuch is an outsider too – in fact he is a double outsider of sorts because of his race and his sexuality.[ii]  Because of his dark skin and the fact that he is a eunuch means he would not have been allowed into the temple.  But this is no ordinary foreigner.  Yes, he is a double outsider, but he is also a highly educated, wealthy, powerful man.  He is in charge of the Queen mother’s treasury, he is prominent enough to ride in a chariot, and he is wealthy enough to own a scroll.[iii]  And although he is not allowed into the temple, he is returning from a time of worship in Jerusalem – so in some ways he is both a double outsider and a faithful follower.  When the eunuch invites Philip into his chariot, Philip is not the one being gracious – the eunuch is the one graciously allowing this disheveled man of faith into his pristine chariot.

Not only is there more complexity to the socio-economic status of these two men, there is also more to the interaction between the two men.  In my mind, Philip was the gracious imparter of wisdom in this story.  But in fact, the Ethiopian does not ask Philip to teach him – as if acknowledging that the two men are unequals.  The Ethiopian asks Philip to guide him – in other words, to journey with him into the Scriptures, and even eventually into baptism, as the two men go down into the water together.[iv]  These two strangers sit side-by-side and together read scripture and talk about what that scripture means.  Philip is on as much of a spiritual journey as the Ethiopian.  This is not a story about a well-educated follower of Christ taking in a marginalized outsider and converting him to Christ.  This is a story about two outsiders, unlikely to ever be sitting together, pondering the word of God together, and finding new life in Christ.

That’s the funny thing about stories – if we do not really pay attention and listen, we tend to fill in the blanks ourselves, often missing the big details.  As I have been watching the riots and racial unrest in Baltimore this week, I keep returning to that theme – that perhaps this is one of those instances where we have not done a very good job of listening.  I suppose I should not be surprised that we are not very good at listening.  We are a culture that talks over each other, that tries to force our version of truth upon one another.  I have listened to countless reporters this week argue with Baltimore residents and protests about their experiences.  I have read countless Facebook posts expressing anger and frustration about the civil unrest.  This whole week has felt like people are competing to have their own version of the truth being seen as the “Truth,” with a capital “T.”  In fact, just the mention of Baltimore probably has you thinking about your own feelings on the subject, mentally blocking any other narratives from your mind

When I lived in Delaware many years ago, I joined a group run through the YWCA that was meant to help foster healthy conversations about race.  One of the main rules of the group was that when an individual shared their story, we were not supposed to be in true conversation.  Each of us was to take turns telling our truths – without interruption or questions.  And the others in the group were to listen.  The method was so counterintuitive that the facilitator’s main job was to enforce the speaking and listening rules.  Although I struggled with the method, I must admit that I learned more in that group than I ever could have imagined.  When I listened – truly listened without assuming I knew how the story would end – I learned things about the experiences of black Americans that I had never known, and had certainly never experienced myself.  Truth unfolded for me like a blooming flower.

Those groups, and my experience this week of trying to prayerfully listen to the oppressed in Baltimore, reminded me of the interaction between Philip and the eunuch.  Back then, God’s chosen people and foreign, black, castrated men did not sit together and study scripture.  God’s chosen people were not accustomed to guiding people instead of teaching them.  God’s chosen people were not only not used to be called to accountability, they were also not likely to accept the criticism and change.  And yet, that is what these two men do.  And the only way any of this story happens is because both men listen – really listen to one another.

This winter I read a book called Toxic Charity.  The premise of the book is that much of the charity work that churches and communities do is flawed because that work is posed as work we do for others as opposed to with others.  The author criticizes communities that enter into impoverished areas, assuming they know what is best for the community.  Instead, the author suggests that those who want to help do so under the direction of those in need.  The main role of those who want to help is to assist the community in articulating their needs, and then empowering the community to make the systemic changes needed for long-term, sustainable change.  That kind of shift in charity work involves a lot more listening, humility, and a willingness to follow instead of lead.

In the case of Baltimore, in the case of Plainview, and really in the case of all Christianity, today’s story reminds us that there may not be simple answers to the world’s ills.  We cannot always fix what is wrong in our society – and in fact, perhaps we can never fix the wrongs without first being prayerful listeners.  As soon as we assume we know someone else’s story, or we know all there is to know about an issue, we have already shut down the movement of the Spirit.  And that is what this story is really all about.  This is not a story about how Philip converted a eunuch.  This is a story about how the Holy Spirit moved among strangers who had nothing in common and created commonality, love, and faith.[v]  The amazing work of Philip and the eunuch journeying to the baptismal waters together is only possible because both agree to vulnerably, honestly, prayerfully listen to one another, to learn together, and to be converted together.[vi]  Their story today invites us to go and do likewise.  Amen.

[i] William Brosend, “Unless Someone Guides Me,” Christian Century, vol. 117, no. 15, May 10, 2000, 535.

[ii] Barbara Brown Taylor, “Homilietical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 457.

[iii] Paul W. Walaskay, “Exegetical Perspective, Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 457.

[iv] Brosend, 535.

[v] Taylor, 459.

[vi] Nadia Bolz-Weber, “The Conversion of the Ethiopian Eunuch,” April 20, 2012 as found at http://thq.wearesparkhouse.org/yearb/easter5nt-2/ on April 29, 2015.

Sermon – John 1.43-51, E2, YB, January 18, 2015

Tags

church, come and see, disciple, evangelism, favorite, God, invite, Jesus, Nathanael, passion, Philip, Sermon, share, testimony

I have lots of friends who swear that Wicked is their favorite musical.  They know all the songs, they have seen the show multiple times, and they reference lines from the characters.  The cult around the musical feels just like that – a cult.  When I confessed that I had not ever seen the show, my friends were aghast.  “You HAVE to see the show!” they would exclaim.  To be honest, they were so passionate about Wicked that I had almost decided that there was no way the show could be that good – surely I would be underwhelmed.  But finally, after much cajoling, I went to see the show with some friends.  And all of a sudden, I got it:  the witty humor, the creative back story, the emotional narrative, and the moving music.  I could not stop thinking and talking about the show for weeks.

Though we have all had encounters with people who are passionate about something – the latest show, a newly released movie, or a favorite restaurant – I imagine that few of us are as passionate about church.  We just do not have the same fervor about church as we do about other passions in our life.  Somehow, being publicly passionate about those other things seems more socially acceptable than being publicly passionate about church.  Our initial concerns are usually about social stigma.  We do not want to become that person that people avoid because we are always babbling on about church.  Our fear may also be about what to say.  How do we explain to others what draws us to this place and makes us spend a good portion of our time here?  Or maybe we have lost some of our passion about church.  Perhaps we come to church out of habit or some longing, but we are not so jazzed about church that we are rushing around, telling friends and strangers alike, “You have to come and see my church.  It is awesome!”

Though we may not be running around like excited new Christians, the disciples of Jesus did in the early days.  In our gospel lesson today, we are told that when Philip meets Jesus and begins following him, he finds Nathanael and says, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.”  And when Nathanael scoffs, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip is undeterred.  Philip excitedly insists, “Come and see.”  You can almost imagine Philip’s big grin and irresistible enthusiasm.  “Come and see,” he says.  This is his simple invitation.  Come and see.  The words are warm and inviting.  The words are gentle and hospitable.  The words, “Come and see,” are not some forceful demand or even a judgmental threat.[i]  There is no, “or else,” at the end of Philip’s invitation.  His invitation is light and easy:  Come and see.

That is our greatest fear when we talk about evangelism.  Because we have such a meaningful relationship with God and the church, we do not want to be associated with Christians who judge and condemn.  We would never be that Christian on a street corner telling people that they are going to hell unless they repent.  In fact, those are the very people who sometimes make us paranoid to even admit our faith in public.  Or maybe we have friends or family who were hurt by the church, and although we still feel drawn to the church, we want to respect their pain.  I have lost count of the number of my own friends and family who have had those negative experiences:  divorcees who felt judged or downright excluded when they wished to be remarried, women who wanted to be priests but felt that sense of call when the church did not affirm the ordination of women, or lesbian and gay friends who just did not feel welcome or treated as equals in the church.  The list is extensive and even if our church experience is not like that, we fear being associated with “those Christians.”

The challenge for us is that we get so caught up in the “what ifs” of sharing our faith that we forget the really wonderful things about our faith.  Philip reminds us today of the simple joy of our faith and our relationship with Christ.  Take a moment to think about your favorite thing about the life we share in this faith community.[ii]  I do not want you to worry about some elaborate theological explanation of your faith.  I just want you to think about your favorite thing about your experience here at St. Margaret’s.  Maybe your favorite thing is the community, and the warm welcome and inclusion you have felt here.  Maybe your favorite thing is the way that the worship experience connects you to God or opens up new truth for you.  Maybe your favorite thing is the way church is like an oasis, a place where you can breathe in the midst of the chaos of life, and find some sense of peace.  Or maybe your favorite thing is something else altogether.  But think about that favorite thing that keeps you coming back here week after week.

Now, imagine sharing that favorite thing with someone else, and inviting them to come and see for themselves.  Before you panic, I want to reassure you.  I am not asking you to go to someone and persuade them to become a Christian.  I am not even asking you to “prove” the truth of the Christian faith.[iii]  I am simply inviting you to invite someone you know to come and see that aspect of our congregational life that you enjoy.  When we have talked about evangelism before, many of you have told me about how you do not really have any friends you can invite to church.  Actually our excuses are numerous (and yes, I say “our” because I have the same excuses too).  We may worry that our friends live too far away, or maybe they already have a church community, or maybe you just do not like to mix your friends community with your church community.  Many of you have turned to me and either said, “Well, isn’t it the priest’s job to grow the church,” or “That is what our website is for.”  And the answer to those things is yes.  Yes, the rector plays some role in people’s attraction to a church and certainly many seekers find us through our website.  But the number one way that people come to a church is by personal invitation.  Every study I have read says that the number one way to attract people to your parish is through personal invitation.

The good news is that the personal invitation is not as scary as the invitation sounds.  Just look at Philip.  When Nathanael scoffs and says, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip could have had any number of responses.  As one person argues, “Philip could have given Nathanael some of his own opinions.  He could have said, ‘This Jesus knows a lot about the Bible.’  Or he might have said, ‘There is something about this man Jesus that draws me to him.’  Even when Nathanael expressed skepticism about ‘anything good coming out of Nazareth,’ Philip might have listed some successful people from Nazareth.”[iv]  But Philip does none of that.  His offer is warm, simple, and gracious.  Come and see.

The beauty of our gospel lesson is that Philip’s testimony to Nathaniel is not that impressive.  His testimony would not win any academic awards or even impress most people.  But his invitation does get Nathanael to in fact, come and see.[v]  And that is what our gospel is inviting us to do today too.  Not to come up with some master plan or some convincing argument.  But to think about the one thing that draws you to this place, and then simply share that one thing with someone else.  Your closing argument will then be easy.  Come and see.  I cannot imagine a better gift that you can give to those you know than to let them see the one thing that gives you life, gives you joy, and gives you passion; and then to invite them to come and see.  Amen.

[i] David Lose, “Epiphany 2B:  Come and See,” January 12, 2015 found at http://www.davidlose.net/2015/01/epiphany-2-b/.

[ii] Lose.

[iii] Michael Rogness, “Commentary on John 1.43-51,” as found at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2314 on January 14, 2015.

[iv] Rogness.

[v] Ted A. Smith, “Homiletical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. B, Vol. 1 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008), 263.