“Serving Where God Puts You”
Acts 8:26-40
May 10, 2009
Fifth Sunday of Easter

by Dr H. Mark Ashworth

They’ll know we are Christians by our love, the choir sang. And indeed that’s true. By our love for one another. Jesus himself said that. But also by our love and our care for the world around us. The little quote I put in the bulletin this morning suggests that living a life of love starts in the home, with your family, then extends to your neighbors and your country and the whole world. That love needs to be all of a piece. On the one hand there is the danger of only looking out for me and mine, ignoring our wider responsibility. On the other hand, we might become like Lucy in the “Peanuts” comic. Once when she was being particularly crabby, Charlie Brown accused her of hating humanity. And Lucy said, “No, I love humanity. It’s people I can’t stand.” But just loving the world theoretically won’t cut it either. On this Mothers Day, we certainly think of the family end of this spectrum, the importance of family and home. And that’s as it should be. But I want to focus on a different part of the spectrum, not as an alternative but as a balance. We are called to stretch our arms out, whether to our families or to the wider world, and to offer a loving, caring, welcoming embrace.

The text this morning is the story of Philip. After the death of Stephen, the leadership in the Jerusalem church scatters. Philip, one of the seven deacons, winds up in Samaria. Samaria is not the easiest place to be. We remember how the Jews looked down on the Samaritans. But Philip goes there and carries out a very effective ministry. His reward for this? Well, God says get up and go down toward Gaza. And as Luke says, it’s a wilderness road. It’s out in the middle of nowhere. Not very exciting. Not very promising. But there on the road he comes across a man in a chariot. The man is reading aloud from the prophet Isaiah. Chapter 53, to be exact. The great Suffering Servant passage, one we often read on Good Friday. The man is an Ethiopian. He works for the Candace, which is just the Ethiopian word for “queen.” And we’re told one more thing. He’s a eunuch. Most likely he was castrated sometime before reaching puberty. And now he’s a servant of the queen. He’s also at least a seeker. He’s been in Jerusalem for worship. We don’t really know if he would have even have been allowed in the Temple. Old Testament law prohibited eunuchs from coming into the Temple. But the prophets pointed to a time when they would be welcome. We can’t be sure which part of the tradition was being practiced at this time. But certainly this man is at least interested in the things of God.

Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch is an interesting story, in and of itself. But this morning I want us to hear this story in the light of our own circumstances. Philip is serving where God put him at that moment. He didn’t choose it. He didn’t know what awaited him on that wilderness road. There was no great plan in Philip’s mind. But faced with an opportunity for ministry, Philip acted faithfully. As for us, we are here, in this place, in this time, in this culture. And I believe that the question for us is not so much where God wants us to be. The question is whether or not we will serve faithfully right where we are. Individually, that can mean a number things. Where you are in your life. Where you are in your job or your school. Where you are in your abilities and your gifts. But as we watch Philip’s encounter with the eunuch, it is the broader question that keeps nudging me, the question that faces us as a congregation and the church in America in general. We are called to faithfulness amid a culture that is rapidly changing. According to a recent poll the percentage of Americans who define themselves as Christian has dropped from 86 percent in 1990 to 76 percent in 2008. The percentage of young people describing themselves as having no religious affiliation has jumped to between 30 and 40 percent. “Newsweek” recently had a cover article entitled “The End of Christian America.” More and more people identify themselves as “spiritual but not religious.” We may not like those changes. The culture doesn’t look like it used to. But this is crucial, we don’t get to choose the culture. We don’t get to choose at this point whether we’re standing on the wilderness road. We are. That’s just a fact. We do get to choose whether or not to be faithful. It isn’t so much a matter of whether we can get our heads around what’s going on. It’s more a question of whether we’re willing to put our arms around the people around us. We’re not called to embrace the culture. We are called to embrace the people. To welcome them home, home to God’s amazing grace and unconditional love.

So how do we do that? Again, Philip and the eunuch help us out. In particular, the questions the eunuch asks Philip serve to frame the picture for us. And if there is an inscription on that frame, it is this simple little reminder: Don’t Assume. Don’t assume. Don’t assume people are clued in to the gospel. The eunuch asks, “How can I [understand what I’m reading], unless someone guides me?” I was looking back at various surveys this week. And you can pick and choose your numbers. But these are fairly representative. In one survey from the Barna Research group, over half of Americans didn’t know who preached the Sermon on the Mount. Over half couldn’t name the first four books of the New Testament. Over half didn’t think Jonah was a book in the Bible. And 70 percent thought “God helps those who help themselves” is a Bible verse. People don’t know the Bible. My point here is not to make fun or to point fingers. My point is simply that we can’t assume. We can’t assume people know the gospel message. We can’t assume they really understand the gospel message. With so many distorted versions floating around, and with so much simple lack of knowledge, we just cannot assume. The question is vital: How can I understand unless someone guides me?

And then don’t assume people think the gospel has anything to do with them. The eunuch asks Philip an interesting question: “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” Now we’ve heard this story before, and if you’re like me, you may have heard the eunuch’s question sort of like this: “Is the prophet talking about himself here, or is he talking about, oh, I don’t know—Jesus?” Now certainly Philip will use Isaiah 53 to talk about Jesus. But the eunuch’s question is different. Basically he’s asking, is this scripture just about the prophet who wrote it, or does it have something to do with me? Think about the text. And think about the eunuch. A man, well, some hardly consider him a man, castrated probably as a child. Looked down upon even though he holds a responsible position in the royal court. Almost certainly he didn’t bring his own condition on himself. So he reads about a lamb put under the knife. He reads about humiliation. He reads about justice denied. Is it any wonder he thinks this could describe him, too? And starting with this scripture, Philip tells him about Jesus. I don’t know what all Philip says. But maybe he says something like this: I see how these words can feel pretty close to home. As for who it’s about, it may be about the prophet, it may feel like it’s about you. I hear it and think of Jesus. And all those answers may be right. But when you’re suffering, you can remember that Jesus knows what it is to suffer. When you’re hurting, you can remember that Jesus knows what it is to hurt. Jesus knows what it is to be humiliated and treated unjustly. So we don’t have to go through those hard times alone. That’s good news. We have someone with us who knows what it’s like. But beyond that, the good news we see in Jesus, and the good news for you and me is that the suffering isn’t the end of the story. God raised Jesus from the dead, and we have hope now and forever. All of it is God’s gift to every one of us, no matter who we are. All we have to do is be willing to trust God.

Ah, but there’s that phrase: no matter who we are. And that points to the third issue. Don’t assume people think they’re welcome. The eunuch says: “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” Oh, what a wonderful moment. The eunuch wants to be baptized. Isn’t that all that he means by his question? No, he asked a question, and his question is real. Would it be possible for me to be baptized? Or are there barriers that won’t allow it? What is to prevent him from being baptized? Let’s see. He’s a foreigner. Not one of us. He works for the queen of Ethiopia, so we have to ask about his loyalties. And then he’s a eunuch. He’s sexually different from the rest of us. Am I really welcome in God’s family? That’s the eunuch’s question. And it’s still a question for many today. The church has been so good for so long at throwing up barriers. Stated barriers and unstated barriers. But barriers just the same. We’re back to that cartoon again, “God may have welcomed you, but our standards are a little bit higher.” It is a challenge for us in the church to overcome our own history. But if we’re going to call all the children home, if we’re going to show we are Christians by our love, then we have to work at it.

And it will be work. It won’t be easy. As we find Philip in this text, he has basically been in charge of the work in Samaria. Then the Spirit says, “get up and go.” Go down toward Gaza. The Spirit may tell us, “get up and go,” too. Get up and go across to that co-worker who’s having a tough time. See if you can be an encouragement. Get up and go to that kid at school who’s always getting picked on. Maybe offer a kind word. Get up and go to that person who comes to the church looking for money. Offer them what you can. But certainly offer them love and respect as a child of God. Get up and go back to your home and your family and show the love of God day by day in the place where it can sometimes be the hardest. Get up and go. It’s not always a word that makes you go to a far-off place. Most of the time we just need to get up and go right where we are. Get up from our complacency or our apathy or our doubt that we can make difference. Get up and go into our everyday lives. The needs are there. The people are there. And God is there. Let us go with open ears to hear those around us, open arms to embrace them with the love of God, and open hearts to share the good news of God’s amazing grace. In the name of the risen Christ and by the power of the Spirit. God grant that it be so. AMEN.