5th Sunday of Easter
The
first step in unpacking this unusual story is deciding who it’s about. There are only two people and our sermon can
easily be about either one of them. Our
Scripture lesson can preach about the unnamed Ethiopian or about this follower
of Jesus named Philip. It can be about
how the Gospel came to Ethiopia through an unlikely person or it can be about
how God led Philip to share the Gospel with that unlikely person.
This
story is really about both of these men, but this morning I feel led to make
this story about Philip. Which is not to
say that next time it won’t be about the eunuch. This Ethiopian eunuch is certainly
interesting, to put it mildly; but interesting does not interest us. Where God is leading is what interests
us. We’re interested in is listening,
listening for the often still, small voice of God; listening for God to show us
where to go. And that seems to be what
Philip’s story is all about.
I
call it “the nudge.” I’ve heard it
called other things, but it’s the same Spirit.
In spite of what some other places in the Bible might lead us to
believe, God’s voice is not loud and booming very often. It can actually be a little hard to hear if
you’re not listening. And it’s subtle:
often, it’s just the thought that you haven’t seen someone in a while, so you
pick up the phone. Sometimes it’s
finding out that something you felt called to share, was the very thing that
someone else needed. It can even feel
like God saying, “Hey, go see what that guy in the chariot is reading.”
What
Luke tells us about this Ethiopian is fascinating; what he leaves out is even
more so. But the Ethiopian is not the
one we need to keep our eyes on. What we
read about God doing in and through Philip is something we need to pay
attention; it’s something we need to and learn from.
The
more I study this story, the more central I think Philip is. I mean, not just central to what this
particular story is about, but central to the story of Acts. The irony there is that this is really the
last time we hear about Philip (except a brief mention in Acts 21, where Paul
runs into him). He baptizes the Eunuch,
then in a flash, he’s off proclaiming the Gospel along the coast. That is essentially the last we hear of
him. He’s not a major player in the
history of the Church; he’s no Peter or Paul, he’s not even a Stephen or
Barnabas; but he is central.
Philip
was one of the seven, early in Acts, who were appointed by the Apostles to do
the real work of ministry. While the
Apostles were busy studying Scripture and praying (and probably gazing at their
navels), they needed someone to actually get stuff done. Philip was a doer.
I’m
kind of kidding, of course. The church
needs folks whose job it is to study Scripture and pray; it had better or I’d
be out of a job. But in a way, I’m not
kidding: the church always needs folks to get stuff done too. Sometimes the folks who study and pray are
more important for the moment, but sometimes the doers are more important for
the moment. It’s up to all of us to
discern which moment we are in.
The
moment Philip was in was a tricky one.
Jesus has ascended, leaving his followers with his Spirit. Right before he left, he told them, “You will
receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my
witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the
earth,” but then they didn’t go anywhere.
Jesus said they’d be witnesses in Jerusalem, but then they never left
Jerusalem. They seem to have forgotten,
as we still tend to forget today, that the Good News is meant to be delivered;
Jesus intended the Gospel to start here, but then to go to people and places
that are not here. They forgot, it
seems, that they were supposed to leave Jerusalem. That is, until Saul came along.
There
is a Holy Irony here: Paul, the guy who would be central in taking the Gospel
to the Gentiles, was also the guy who, in a way, persecuted the followers of
Jesus out of Jerusalem to do it. I
believe God works in this way, sometimes: what we see as tragic or terrifying,
in the moment, is actually “the nudge” of God.
The persecution of the followers of Jesus in Jerusalem, led them to take
the Gospel beyond it.
We
should expect this sort of thing from God.
After all, we know how God worked in Jesus. We know how he was persecuted, tortured, and
executed—a thing that, in the moment, looked tragic and terrifying—but that
wasn’t the end of what God was doing.
The followers of Jesus need to expect and teach ourselves to look beyond
the tragic and terrifying; to see Salvation on the way.
That
is the moment Philip is in: appointed to do the hard work of serving Jesus, he
is chased out of Jerusalem by people like Saul and starts actually doing the
work Jesus commissioned the Apostles to do.
He
is chased out of Jerusalem, but he’s not running, is he? Luke tells us that, “An angel of the Lord
said to Philip, ‘Get up and go toward the south to the road that goes down from
Jerusalem to Gaza.’” Now, first of all,
I love how Luke crams so much into so few words, while at the same time leaving
so much out. We know that Philip is
headed south when he meets this Ethiopian follower of Judaism (who is probably
not allowed to worship fully because of, you know) and we know that said
Ethiopian is probably headed back to work for Candice the queen. Yet at the same time, Luke just slides right
past the part about the angel. Is it me,
or does Luke assume a level of familiarity with angels that the rest of us do
not actually have?
I
sense a “nudge,” I don’t hear angels. I
see the handiwork of God in what some might consider “coincidences”; I don’t
see angels. I sense the movement of
God’s Spirit in me and in others; I don’t know that I’ve ever met an
angel. I believe in angels—I’m not
“that” pastor—I’m just saying: God is vastly more subtle with me. I don’t personally know what Luke is talking
about when he talks about angels.
Fortunately, we don’t have to. We
don’t have to because there is a vastly more important point to be made here:
angel or “nudge,” the more-important point is that Philip got up and went. God does amazing things with our get up and
go, but what comes first is being aware that God has been trying to “nudge” us
in the first place.
I
made a list. I make a lot of lists:
Google Calendar and little slips of paper with to-do things on them are the
centerpieces of my organizational structure.
But the list I made isn’t my list and it’s not exactly a to-do list
either. I made a list of all the things
that Lou Ray used to do for the church, both here and for the larger
Church. It took me a while, but it was
worth the effort. I think I’ve stumbled
onto a different kind of spiritual practice; it was surprisingly enriching;
I’ve found myself keeping a similar list for myself; mentally, I’m making
similar lists for you.
We
are called “the Body of Christ,” but there are implications there that we don’t
like to think about. Like any body,
there are parts that don’t just grow back.
As Paul would remind us, that doesn’t make any one of us more or less
important the Body; we all have our part.
That’s why I recommend making lists for ourselves and one another; I
mean, don’t literally. In your head,
think through the things you bring to Christ’s Body; think through the things
that others bring. I think you’ll find
that there is not a person here that we can do without; and yet, somehow, we
someday will; and somehow, by the power of God’s Spirit, the Body of Christ
will continue anyway.
When
our Body loses a member, there are two ways we might respond; I want us to
learn to choose the second. We can
merely mourn; mourning is important.
Grieve well. To a point, push at
it like a sliver in your hand to remind yourself it’s still there, but don’t just
mourn. Listen for what God’s Spirit is
telling you to do about it. Listen,
because grieving is never the end of what God is up to. Listen, that you might hear, and get up, and
go.
This
list I made, I put it up on the information board in Berry Hall, but it isn’t a
sign up list. Some have already stepped
up to take on some of the more urgent roles that Lou Ray had around here,
that’s not the point of this list. By
the way, when you look at this list, I think you’ll agree that no one person
should be responsible for all of these things.
At some point, we need to not let each other take on everything. I’ll give you an example: one of Lou Ray’s
roles in my life was to remind me to take the dirty dishes that get piled up in
my office and bring them to the kitchen to be cleaned. As I was doing that for myself this week, I
reflected on how that’s not a job I should have needed anyone to do for
me. I love her for doing it, but really,
I should have stepped up a long time ago.
I
invite you to reflect on the list I’ve made, to listen for God to show you a
place in the Body you didn’t know you were called to. But there is a deeper message here: as we
long for a growing, vibrant church—as we seek to be faithful to deliver the
Good News to our world—the first thing we do is listen. We have been listening and I believe we have
heard the “nudge” of God, but we never stop listening. Let us continue to listen—through Scripture,
through the movement of God’s Spirit in ourselves and one another, and maybe
even to angels—but then let us be prepared to go. And in our going, may we find the blessings
that God has in store for us.
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