Easter 5B

Acts 8:26-39

May 10, 2009

            Before I begin, I would like to give a good deal of credit for what you are about to hear, to Anna Carter Florence.

It seems to me that Christians are supposed to be the kindest of all people, the most compassionate.  We are to be understanding, calm and gentle at all times.  Isn’t that what we are taught from our Sunday School days on up, “Be ye kind?”  I think it’s probably fair to say that we expect uber-kindness from those among us who are called to preach the Word of God. 

            And so, when we read scripture, especially the passages where the disciples are preaching, we expect to find some modicum of kindness present.  Philip, for instance, should be a model of kindness. 

            Philip was not one of the original 12 disciples of Jesus.  But he was a deacon in the very first church in Jerusalem.  Along with Stephen and the others, he was called upon to wait tables and distribute food to the widows.  Certainly we can all agree that kindness is generally a quality of those who care for widows. 

            But before Philip could truly mature as a deacon in the church, the persecutions against Christians started and the church disbanded for a time.  Soldiers were going door-to-door, searching every house in Jerusalem for Christians and dragging men and women off to jail.  If you were lucky, you got the word in time and fled the city.  Philip was one of those lucky ones and since you can’t very well wait on tables when you’re hiding from the law, Philip went down to the city of Samaria and started preaching.

            Philip turned out to be a pretty good preacher.  The kind of preacher who could have had his own show on the Trinity Broadcast Network.  It would have been a ratings buster.  He had star power with all those miracles and signs he could perform.  He also had nerves of steel.  There he was, a brand spanking new preacher, going where no self respecting preacher would ever dare to go—Samaria. 

            The apostles had stayed behind in Jerusalem but Philip was out and about in Samaria preaching the Gospel to record crowds.  The Samaritans were hearing the Gospel and accepting the word of God from this rookie.  They were being baptized in droves.  Philip the deacon had converted a whole city of Samaritans. 

            This was the first huge missionary success for the Christians.  It was a huge score for Philip.  The home team was on a roll.  The soldiers might be tromping through Jerusalem but out on the big field, the points were adding up. You know how it is when those big first time successes happen.  You can’t wait for the next assignment.  Send me in, coach, I’m ready to kick some butt. 

            Can you imagine how excited Philip was?  Where would God send him next?  What sort of crowd could he anticipate?  What miracles would he be able to do that would wow the ordinary peasants and turn their hearts to God?  Anything was possible.

            As that angel began to speak to Philip you can only imagine that he was positively quivering with anticipation.  And then…..and then….the angel….and then the angel announced…… “Philip, your next assignment will be in……

            “The wilderness road.  The one that runs from Jerusalem to Gaza, in the middle of the desert.  At high noon.”

                  Let’s recap for a moment, shall we.  Philip, a wonderful deacon with a great sense of hospitality, called to care for the least of society, turns out to have a real gift for preaching.  He is capable, with the help of the Holy Spirit, of converting entire metropolitan areas.  All those who hear his words become Christians.  And God sends this magnificent preacher to a dirt road in the middle of nowhere at the hottest hour of the day.  It’s lunch time for heavens sake.  No one is out and about at that time, not that many people travel that particular road anyhow.

            I ask you, is this a good use of the resources and talents that Philip has?  And I bet Philip asked that same question and maybe a few more.  I bet Philip was shocked.  Maybe the angel made a mistake.  Maybe the angel hadn’t gotten word yet of what had happened in Samaria. 

            But no, the angel gave the message and that was that.  The wilderness road.  The middle of nowhere.  Heat of the day.  Those were the orders.  That was the message. 

            What a blow to the ego. What a huge disappointment.  What a waste of perfectly good preaching talent.  After a successful gig in a metropolitan area, Philip is being sent to a place without so much as a single Motel 6.  No conference center.  No huge dome.  Just dust and tumbleweeds.  This is not an effective evangelism strategy that any sane person would employ. 

            The only being insane enough to conceive of just such a plan has to be God. 

            Philip does go without a single complaint.  Although he isn’t exactly jumping for joy in the story.  He’s a bit quiet, if you ask me.  It’s as if he’s perhaps pouting a little.  The chariot approaches and well, Philip doesn’t move.  Not until the Spirit orders him to get over there.  So maybe Philip isn’t too terribly happy.  Maybe he isn’t cognizant of what is going on around him.  Maybe he isn’t thinking that God had this whole encounter planned from the beginning.  So the Spirit gives him a nudge and Philip moves toward the Chariot where an Ethiopian eunuch just happens to be reading the scripture. 

            “Do you really understand what you’re reading?” Philip asks.  Whoa.  Those are not kind words from the mouth of a preacher.  They aren’t even remotely polite.  I mean, picture the scene.  There’s Philip standing in the middle of nowhere with nothing but his teeth in his mouth and he’s talking to an Ethiopian, and in Philips’ day, Ethiopians were considered the most beautiful of all people.  And the Ethiopian is riding in a chariot with a scroll, so he’s of a very wealthy class of people.  He’s the treasurer of the Queen so he’s very powerful.  And in the eyes of a Jew like Philip, he’s an outcast.  So beautiful, rich and powerful and completely untouchable. 

            And Philip says to him, “Do you really understand what you’re reading?”  We get a sense that our friend Philip--the deacon dedicated to the care of widows; the preacher who works miracles and is a beacon of God’s grace and mercy in the world--we get a sense that our friend Philip doesn’t want to read with this man.  He doesn’t want to talk to this man.  He doesn’t want to be in the company of this man.  He sure as heck isn’t kind to this man. 

            We’ve all been where Philip is; on that road that we don’t want to be on, eyeballing someone we don’t want to be with, in a situation we don’t want to be in figuring this is just a big fat waste of our time. Kindness goes right down the drain in those moments.

            But the eunuch doesn’t seem to take offense, in fact, he invites Philip to preach to him. “How can I understand without someone to teach me?”  And then a miracle occurred.  Philip, the deacon, sat with the Ethiopian eunuch and preached to him about the good news of Jesus.  And suddenly a new world of possibilities opened up. Both men were changed. The eyes of both men were opened to see water in the desert.  And they both understood—that God loves us for who we are, exactly as we are—an untouchable eunuch and a grumpy, irritated preacher.  Baptism is the mark of God’s love.  Baptism erases boundaries, trumps kindnesses and embraces us with grace. 

            What is to prevent me from being baptized? 

            Sometimes we get in our own way—our sense of what is good and right and kind and sensible is all that stands between us and the grace of God. Sometimes it isn’t about kindness.  Sometimes you just have to shut up and wade in the water.  Amen