Easter 5
Year B
St. Stephen’s, Orinda
Great things, Thou hast done, O Lord, my God. I would name them and proclaim them, but they are more than I can tell. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Every week, I read the lectionary texts and ask myself, “What is this story about?” Once I understand the context and the content of the story, then we can move on to follow up questions like “What is interesting about this story?” “Where is the good news?” “What word of advice, encouragement, or caution do the folks of St. Stephen’s need to hear?” Hopefully, I can answer all of those questions in a given sermon, but that first question is critical.
Take our lesson from Acts. Is it a story about the spread of Christianity? Is it a story about widening the bounds of those welcomed into the worshipping community? Is it a story about bodily mutilation? Is it a story about moving from humiliation to honor? Is it a story about how to interpret scripture? Is it a model for what good Christian preaching should be? Is it a story that helps us understand the link between the Jewish Tanak and the gospels? Is it a story on the role of baptism? Is it a story about whether we should require baptism before participating in the Eucharist?
Yes…
The story of Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch is a story about all those things. What’s more, because this story helps shed light on the sacrament of baptism, we not only have to figure out what the story means, we also need to figure out how to apply the story to our understanding of baptism and the church. By my math, a sermon that adequately addressed everything going on in this passage could wrap up right around Memorial Day. So…to get you all home this weekend, let me offer both a few quick hits and hopefully a considered reflection on what this passage teaches me about Baptism:
The narrator tells us that the Ethiopian Eunuch was returning home after worshipping in Jerusalem. It is worth a moment to consider how and where he worshipped. Deuteronomy 23:1 clearly states that one who is sexually mutilated shall not enter the assembly of the Lord. He seems drawn to worship the God of Israel, but he can not step inside the temple. He is an outsider, literally and figuratively.
And yet, he reads from the prophet Isaiah. Surely, this Eunuch would know all too well about humiliation and justice denied. But what of these centuries old words? They are intruiging…but are they applicable? And so, the Eunuch asks Phillip, “does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” What I hope he means to ask is this: “Is this story only about Isaiah and his situation, or is this passage about me, as well? Is this a word from God for someone else, of is this good news meant for me, right now, centuries after it was written!?
Both the Eunuch and Israel know the painful experience of being an outsider, of being an outcast. And so, Phillip walks the Ethiopian through scripture—he serves as a witness to Christ’s ministry, to Christ’s own miscarriage of justice and humiliation—and to point God’s desire of universal restoration. The Ethiopian was reading from Isaiah chapter 53—I wonder if Phillip also turned the pages to chapter 56, where the prophet exclaims “To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, I will give, in my house and within my walls, a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off.” You might feel like an outsider now…but God is working, inviting you to inclusion.
What Phillip teaches both the Ethiopian Eunuch and us is that God’s word is for us, here and now. Phillip proclaims to him, and to us, that the good news is even better than we could have hoped. As Thomas Long shares, “Not only does God know and understand the eunuch’s experience of being humiliated and ostracized; Jesus himself took on that lowly and outcast state. In Jesus, and for all who follow him, the stony road of suffering is transformed into the highway of exaltation.” At its core, the story of Jesus, the story of the cross and resurrection, is the story of our redemption, the promise of our restoration, and the source of all our hopes. That is what Phillip preached. It is little wonder that the Ethiopian “went away rejoicing”—what a wonderful gift he was given, the insight of what all of scripture means…
And in response to this great, good news—upon hearing this story explained, the Ethiopian immediately wants to be a part of God’s unfolding story of redemption. “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
The answer, we should note, was nothing. There was nothing to prevent him from joining the story of God’s restoration.
To me, that is what the story means, but how do we apply it?
For decades, the Episcopal Church has wrestled with whether or not the sacrament of the Eucharist can be shared with those who have not yet received baptism in the name of the Trinity. It actually is cannon law: only those baptized can receive communion. And over the past few decades, there have been attempts to amend canon law to allow non-baptized persons to receive communion. Proponents argue, that there is hardly a priest who is double checking for baptismal certificates at the communion rail, and, additionally, if we believe the Table is the representation of God’s bounty and grace, why put up hurdles? And many people, particularly those who have been denied communion in the Roman Catholic tradition, support a more gracious approach.
And, I will admit, it is a sympathetic argument. I know because I used to make it. About ten years ago, the Church was resurfacing the idea of removing the requirement for baptism from the eucharist. And while preparing for a bible study, I selected this story, and in that reading, I completely changed my mind. The story of Phillip and the Ethiopian Eunuch teaches us that we shouldn’t have a high bar for participating in the eucharist, when we ought to have a low bar to baptism. “Look! Here is some water!” That is all it really should take.
Now, there are many theologians who want Baptism to be a well-considered step into the life of faith. They might rightly argue that only after Phillip opened scripture did the Ethiopian desire baptism—but that is a very slippery slope. We can not, and should not, tie baptism to our intellect. For one, we’d abandon the practice of infant baptism—but to say that you must have an intellectual understanding of scripture in order to be saved by it completely misunderstands the nature of Grace and would restrict the good news from those who do not have the capacity to understand it.
In a perfect world, someone might indicate their interest in baptism, and after weeks and months of reflection and study, decide affirmatively to participate in the life of the church. But the good news this morning is that perfection is not the prerequisite for membership in the church—only water and God’s grace.
Baptism is how scripture brings us into the community of faith. We all are outsiders in some sense. Yet, in baptism, we are drawn into a common life of learning and serving.
We now share in the ministry of Jesus.
At my old church, when our font wasn’t being used, it sat right in front of the pulpit. And for years, after the church was ready for the service to begin, I would fill the font with water. My hope was, someone, at some point, would come to church and ask “what is to prevent me from being baptized?” And I would respond, “Nothing!” (And then I’d show them that I had secretly been preparing for this exact moment for years!)
No one ever took me up on that offer. But I think it bears reminds us of the simple fact, that when we walk into this church, we pass by the waters of baptism. The first thing we see in the church is either a reminder that you are baptized, or the invitation that you could be baptized. That this is a place of welcome. That you are, in baptism, one of us. There is nothing that separates us. Not our socioeconomic status, not our gender, not our sexuality, political affiliation, education level…none of it actually matters in the church. We are one.
What is to prevent us from being baptized? Absolutely nothing.
That is the good news this morning. The recognition earnestly desires us for us to be brought into one house and made one people. There have been, regretfully and painfully, times in the life of faith in which there have been barriers which have been erected to say “You are not welcome.” What Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch teach us is that that is hogwash.
God wants all of us to be restored into one family. What is to prevent us from being one?
Absolutely nothing…
Amen.
