Rethink Fear
“Rethink Fear” Acts 8:26-40; Psalm 22:25-31; 1 John 4:7-21; John 15:1-8
As they were going along the road, [Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch] came to some water; and the eunuch said, “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
A couple of weeks ago we read about how the first Christian community in Jerusalem pooled their resources and looked after those in need. Two of the people who were particularly called and designated to watch out for needy members of the community were Philip and Stephen. But before long Stephen is killed, stoned to death for blasphemy for proclaiming Jesus as the risen Messiah, by a crowd that included the future apostle Paul. And most of the Jerusalem community runs for the hills, in the process starting to bring the good news of Easter to new places.
Philip’s flight from Jerusalem takes him onto the wilderness road that leads through the desert from Jerusalem to Gaza, and from there on to Egypt and Africa. And on the road through the desert in the middle of nowhere, Philip sees a chariot heading away from Jerusalem. In the chariot is an important man, the treasurer of Queen Candace of Ethiopia. Even though he is probably not Jewish himself, he has gone to the temple in Jerusalem to worship the Jewish God, and now is on his way back home. And he is a eunuch, someone who, either by birth or more probably by involuntary surgery, is unable to have children. In ancient times royalty liked to entrust their money to people who didn’t have families of their own to provide for; less likely they’d have a motivation to steal.
As Philip approaches the Ethiopian eunuch’s chariot, he hears that the eunuch is reading aloud (as the custom was in those days), and that he’s reading from the Bible. Specifically, from the prophet Isaiah.
Two strangers meet on an isolated, desert road. One an important official traveling through a foreign land, the other a man fleeing for his life. Each one would have plenty of good reasons to fear the other, on a desert road, in the middle of nowhere, no cellphone coverage, no one to call if the stranger turns out to be a robber. Yet Philip summons up the courage to approach the stranger and speak – I hear you’re reading the Bible, my people’s Scriptures, do you understand what you’re reading? And the eunuch summons up the courage to invite the stranger into his carriage. Yes, I’d love it if you could help me understand.
Now seated together in the carriage, the eunuch points to a passage from Isaiah that he has just read. It is a fearful passage, one that to this day Christians read each year in the liturgy of Good Friday. It is a poem about a Servant of God who suffers unjustly, who dies rejected and despised, yet somehow his life and death bring hope and salvation to the people. “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb silent before the shearer, so he does not open his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth.”
Tell me, the eunuch says, of whom is the prophet speaking? Himself, or someone else? And I don’t think the eunuch asked this question as a pure intellectual curiosity. It’s easy to see how the eunuch might have seen himself in this passage. The queen whom he served trusted him with much responsibility, but in the process he was physically mutilated, deprived of a family and a legacy of his own, perhaps not with any personal choice in the matter. Nor would he have been in a position to object. Does he think of the day he became a eunuch when he reads: “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb silent before the shearer, so he does not open his mouth. In his humiliation justice was denied him. Who can describe his generation? For his life is taken away from the earth.” The prophet sees hope and salvation coming from this suffering servant of God – well, can there be hope and salvation for me, too? Who is this servant?
Well, Philip says, I believe that this servant who is to suffer and redeem the people is the promised Messiah of Israel, who has come, who was crucified and who died and who is risen from the dead, and his name is Jesus the Christ. In his resurrection the resurrection of all people has begun, the healing and the restoration of all creation has begun, and everyone who is baptized into his death and resurrection can begin to live resurrection life right here and now. This is the good news that the Spirit sent me here to tell you.
And the eunuch of Ethiopia looks up and sees, on the desert road in the middle of the nowhere, suddenly, providentially, some water. And he says, “Look, here is water. Right here and now, you say. So what is to prevent me from being baptized?”
And if Philip had reason to be afraid before, how much more does he have reason to be afraid now. “What is to prevent me from being baptized?” the eunuch asks. Well, how about Deuteronomy chapter 23, verse 1? In which Moses says: “No [eunuch] shall be admitted to the assembly of the Lord.” Well, that’s pretty clear, isn’t it? “No [eunuch] shall be admitted to the assembly of the Lord.” The Bible said it, I believe it, that settles it. Sorry if you disagree, take it up with God. Nothing I can do. And the eunuch has just come from the Temple in Jerusalem, and I’m sure he knows the rules as well as Philip does. Perhaps he, too, is fearful in posing the question, knowing very well that the answer might be, “Well, actually, there is something that prevents you from being baptized.”
For me, as a gay man, having been told myself by all kinds of people that the Bible excludes me, condemns me, rejects me, I can definitely relate to that fear. And I can relate to Philip’s fear – can I really do something that seems to go against the Bible? What will people say when they find out? Will God be mad at me for leading this man astray, giving him false hope?
And it’s even more than that. Remember why Philip is on the desert road in the first place. His friend and fellow deacon Stephen has just been stoned to death for blasphemy with the approval of the religious establishment in Jerusalem; Philip and much of the rest of the community are fleeing for their lives. Is this really the time to welcome someone into the community of Jesus explicitly excluded by the Law of Moses? Isn’t that just asking to be the next one stoned for blasphemy? Will my friends in the community think I’m trying to get all of us killed?
Yes, I know Deuteronomy 23:1, Philip probably thought. I also know Isaiah 56, just a couple pages after the text this eunuch and I have just been discussing, where God says: “3 Do not let the foreigner joined to the Lord say, “The Lord will surely separate me from his people”; and do not let the eunuch say, “I am just a dry tree.” 4 For thus says the Lord: To the eunuchs who keep my sabbaths, who choose the things that please me and hold fast my covenant, 5 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.” But still, this is dangerous right now. Am I ready for everything that’s going to come at me if I say yes and baptize this eunuch into the family of God?
Most of you know I used to be a Catholic priest. Once a man came to the church office to ask if he could join the church. I can’t remember now if he had ever been baptized, but if he had it wasn’t as a Catholic and he hadn’t been in church for a long time. But he had read some Catholic theology and was really interested in learning more. He told me his story and we talked for a while, and eventually he asked: Can I become part of this church?
And I said, Yes, of course. But I have to be up front with you about one thing. You mentioned that you were divorced and you are now in a second marriage, and before we can welcome you into the church we’ll need to get an annulment for your first marriage. But don’t worry, it’s not as scary as it sounds, and I’ll help you and I’m sure we’ll be able to get it done. Well, you can imagine what happened. I never saw or heard from the man again. But those were the rules. I was just doing my job. And eventually I figured out that it wasn’t a job I wanted to do any more.
And I am grateful now to be part of a community whose response to the question “What is to prevent me from being part of the community of Jesus” is Nothing, you are welcome here, you belong here. And not just because it’s easier or more fun to say Yes than to say No. But because it’s the gospel. The good news is that Jesus died and lives again for everyone, and therefore he died and lives again for you. Whoever you are. Whether you’ve been married once or never or as many times as Elizabeth Taylor. No matter who you love. No matter what color you are, or what problems you have, or what’s in your past, or what doubts or flaws or fears are holding you back today – Jesus died and lives again for you.
Jesus says it in the gospel reading today: He is the vine, we are the branches, we are fruitful and alive and life-giving to others if we are rooted and grounded in Jesus. If you’re called to be fruitful and multiply the old-fashioned way, good for you and God bless you, but to really be fruitful all you have to do is be a disciple of Jesus and learn from him, and that’s an invitation that is open to everybody.
And I know the thought of a truly open baptismal font, a truly open table, makes a lot of Christians, well, afraid. Don’t we need to have some standards, don’t we need some rules? And yes, there are behaviors that are abusive and manipulative and that have no place in a Christian community, and there are times that love demands we step in when people mess up and hurt their neighbors. We all have baggage that needs to be pruned and thrown away in order for us to thrive and bear fruit. But throwing people away comes only from a place of fear, not of love. The urge to draw lines and to exclude others while including ourselves comes from fear, fear that we haven’t done enough to be worthy of love. Fear that tries to find life by saying, Well, at least I’m not like that one, I must be worth something. But John is right – there is no fear in love, love that envelops us and assures us that we are loved exactly as we are no matter what, love that frees us from the fear of God and the fear of one another.
Philip and the eunuch of Ethiopia overcame their fears of strangers on the desert road, and began to speak to and listen to one another. The eunuch of Ethiopia overcame his fear and asked for baptism; Philip overcame his fear and gave the eunuch baptism. Because the love of Jesus breaks down all of the walls, and I mean all of the walls, that keep us hiding in fear from one another. Because the love of Jesus which is stronger than even the fear of death, those of us who are rooted in Jesus the vine can be fruitful no matter where we are planted. Because Jesus lives, we are know that we are loved. Because He lives, we are free to love our neighbor as we have been loved, to share what we have been given with all of God’s beloved children. Because He lives, we know that there is nothing we need to fear.