The Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Who Then is This?
Mark 4:35-41

At the end of the Gospel passage we heard today, the disciples ask one another: Who then is this? Jesus has just stilled the seas and calmed the winds. Who then is this? They call him teacher earlier in this passage. Now they have known him in a new way. Who then is this?

Who then is Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus in your life? The living Jesus who is here in our midst right now?

Is that a question you think about? Most of us, I expect would be quick to describe Jesus. We have a whole basketful of titles and theological terms to talk about Jesus. He is the Son of God, the Lamb of God, Reedemer…

We know the formulas of the creeds:
For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven…
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate…
He suffered death and was buried…
On the third day he rose again…

The words describe Jesus and remind us of what he did for us. But what does he do for you? Who then is he in your life today?

As I think of the varied experience of all of us gathered here today, if we could combine our descriptions of Jesus’ actions in our lives, it would tell a wonderful story!

For the disciples, he was someone who stilled the storm that raged around them. Who is he for you?

Earlier this week I participated in the service in which the Rev. Nicholas Romans was installed as the new Rector of Church of the Transfiguration in Palos Park. The preacher was Martin Smith. He spoke about Jesus’ presence with us, in the midst of us, that night. And he opined about what he thinks the living Jesus likes best of all to do. It’s neat to think about what Jesus likes to do when he is with us. Smith’s feeling is that what Jesus likes best of all is to make things new. To bring new life. To renew people, churches, the world around us.

Who then is this Jesus? Often he is someone who makes things new, who renews us.

Smith also talked about how God trusts us. God trusts us to be the church, to be Jesus’ hands and voice in the world. Jesus conveyed that trust to the disciples. Maybe he does for us to. Jesus conveys and affirms God’s trust in us.

There is a common practice among many Christians to speak of Jesus as friend. Who then is Jesus? He is my friend. Yes, he is a constant companion, but there is one temptation to beware of in perceiving Jesus as friend. It’s easy to reduce Jesus to only human… to make him in the image of your ideal friend and then call him God.

But thinking of Jesus as friend inevitably brings to mind the great American hymn, What a Friend We Have in Jesus. Do you remember the rest of the words? It’s a wonderful sort of friendship that the hymn talks about.

What a friend we have in Jesus
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
 O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer. 

Who is Jesus? The bearer of our griefs and sins and sorrows.
Who is Jesus? The tireless messenger of our prayers.

I know Jesus as God, sharing my human experiences. And bringing God’s own holiness into my human experience. Shares and makes holy our human experience. The living Jesus still speaks the words that he speaks to the disciples at the end of Matthew’s Gospel. “Behold, I am with you always.”

Who then is this Jesus for you? How do you experience Jesus?

As I think about this question, another hymn comes to mind. It’s one of my favorites; I quote it often.

I came to Jesus as I was, so weary worn and sad. I found in him a resting place and he has made me glad. 

He is a resting place. And a source of renewal. I think “glad” is how you say “renewed” when it has to rhyme with sad. Jesus is a place to rest and be renewed.

He was asleep in the midst of the storm. For me that is not a sign of indifference, it is a sign of peace. Jesus is a source of peace even in the midst of life’s most tumultuous storms. And remember sleep is a process of renewal. Jesus brings peace and renewal even in the midst of fear, uncertainty and chaos.

Who then is Jesus for you?

The Third Sunday after Pentecost

The Kingdom of God is a Weed!
Mark 4:26-34

The parable of the mustard seed. This has to be one of Jesus’ most familiar and well-known parables. What does it mean to you? What does it say to you about your own faith life?

As I consider this parable I am going to draw very heavily on a reflection I read recently by David Lose.  (Posted here on Working Preacher.) He teaches preaching at Luther Seminary in St. Paul.

 But before we get to his thoughts, what does the parable of the mustard seed mean to you? What does it teach you?

I think the primary meaning I have long drawn from this parable is the understanding that the Kingdom of God is a wondrous and miraculous place. Jesus is teaching about the Kingdom. The Kingdom, even as we know it only partially in this life, is a wondrous and miraculous place. A place where something seemingly insignificant is transformed into glory.

The parable invites us to think about the mustard seed’s size, about how something very small becomes large. But Lose gives us another way to consider this parable.

The primary way I've heard the parable of the mustard seed interpreted and preached is as an allegory or fable. First the allegory: just like the mustard seed starts small and grows, so might your faith if you tend it. Second, the fable: sometimes very large things have small beginnings, so don't be discouraged if you exercise your faith in small ways, because God will use it to do great things….

[Fables] and allegories are meant to teach, to instruct, and to edify. Parables, on the other hand, are meant to overturn, to deconstruct, to cause frustration and, for those who stay with them, transformation. (Trust me, no one has been transformed by a fable!)

So consider an alternative, even subversive interpretation. What if the key to reading the parable of the mustard seed were to understand what a peculiar seed it actually is? The things about mustard seeds, you see, is that while some varieties were used as spice and others medicinally, in general they were considered at the very least pesky and often somewhat dangerous. Why? Because wild mustard is incredibly hard to control, and once it takes root it can take over a whole planting area. That's why mustard would only occasionally be found in a garden in the ancient world; more likely you would look for it overtaking the side of an open hill or abandoned field.

So pick your favorite garden-variety (pun intended) weed -- crabgrass, cinquefoil, dandelion, wild onion -- that's pretty much what Jesus is comparing the kingdom of God to. Oh, and that part about the birds seeking refuge. Maybe it's meant as a comforting image -- birds finding shelter from the elements. Or maybe, given the unfavorable reference to birds in the previous parable about the sower -- eating the seed off the path -- it suggests that once mustard shrubs take root, all kinds of things happen including the sudden presence of "undesirables."

Looked at this way, Jesus' parable is a little darker, even ominous. As John Dominic Crossan puts it: The point, in other words, is not just that the mustard plant starts as a proverbially small seed and grows into a shrub of three or four feet, or even higher, it is that it tends to take over where it is not wanted, that it tends to get out of control, and that it tends to attract birds within cultivated areas where they are not particularly desired. And that, said Jesus, was what the Kingdom was like: not like the mighty cedar of Lebanon and not quite like a common weed, [more] like a pungent shrub with dangerous takeover properties. Something you would want in only small and carefully controlled doses -- if you could control it (The Historical Jesus, pp. 278-279).

And I think that's the point: this kingdom Jesus proclaims isn't something we can control. And it's definitely not safe, not, that is, if we're even minimally satisfied with the way things are. Rather, the kingdom comes to overturn, to take over, to transform the kingdoms of this world.

But if you're not satisfied, if you can imagine something more than the status quo of scarcity and fear and limited justice and all the rest we're regularly offered, then maybe Jesus saying that God's kingdom is infiltrating the kingdom of the world offers a word of hope… 

 Hope. Seeing the kingdom of God as an invasive plant offers hope. The kingdom of God takes over, crowds out the kingdoms of this world. Once it takes root, there is no containing the Kingdom of God.

 The Kingdom of God is a world where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, and inclusion guide and motivate people’s interactions. The Kingdom of God is a place of mercy, compassion, reconciliation and radical inclusion.

The kingdoms of this world are governed by the need to control, by self-interest. Peoples’ actions and interactions are motivated by dominance and fear.

The Kingdom of God is invading the kingdoms of this world. Look for it. Look for the Kingdom of God. In your daily lives, look for the invasive mustard plants of God’s kingdom crowding out the carefully managed and controlled “gardens” of this world.

Lose encourages us to actually document these Kingdom sightings. Collect photos or ideas of examples that you personally see or encounter where the Kingdom of God is taking over. Make it a family project. We’ll find some way to share and compile these examples.

There aren’t really any rules for this project except one. I’m not interested in where YOU think God SHOULD be working in the world. We’re looking for examples of where God IS working in the world. Where the hope of God’s kingdom is taking root in the world around us.

This about training our eyes to see God’s kingdom in the world around us. (It’s less about moments of personal grace… times when you know God with you in your life. Those are definitely worth noting, but that’s a different project.) So look for the invasion of the Kingdom of God. Places where mercy, compassion, reconciliation, inclusion are taking root and growing against all odds. And maybe as we discover and discuss the Kingdom in our midst, we’ll also discover ways that we can help… help the Kingdom of God grow.

The Second Sunday after Pentecost

The Edwards Aquifer

For me there are several components that typically go into sermon writing. It’s part reading and academic research, part prayer and listening to the Holy Spirit and part free association. The free association part is important. That’s where the Scriptures for the week intersect with what’s going on in my life or in the world around us.

That intersection of God’s living word with our daily lives can be and should be a part of every Christian’s experience. It only happens, of course, if you’re living with the Scriptures. I urge you, if you don’t already, to take on some sort of discipline of daily Bible reading. Use Forward Day-by-Day or some other daily devotional or use the Daily Office lectionary in the Book of Common Prayer.

 For me this week, free association led me to consider the connection between the Collect appointed for this Sunday and the Edwards aquifer. On the way downtown to the diocesan confirmation service I was reading an article in the Nature Conservancy magazine about the Edwards aquifer.

The Edwards aquifer is a highly permeable limestone formation that serves as the primary source of water for much of central Texas. It’s important for that reason alone, but it is also interesting because it is also the source of many springs and artesian wells. The particular geologic configuration of the Edwards aquifer means that it is the source for water that flows freely of its own power up to the surface of the earth.

In today’s collect we speak of God as the source from whom all good doth come. Or, in the Rite 2 language, the source from whom all good proceeds. I think also of the beloved hymn where we praise God from whom all blessings flow. Jesus, in John’s Gospel, speaks of himself as being living water.

Springs and artesian wells, like those that originate from the Edwards aquifer, flow to the earth’s surface under their own pressure. They do not have to be pumped; they just bubble and spring up on their own, providing life-sustaining water.

God’s goodness, God’s blessings are like that. They flow into our lives under their own pressure or power. The force of God’s love generates blessing and goodness that flow freely into the world. We do not have to dig for them, pump them, grab them or seize them. They are simply given to us like a natural spring flowing freely.

 The analogy with the Edwards aquifer is not perfect. It can be polluted or its effectiveness limited by human intervention. God, as a source of blessing, on the other hand, is truly infinite and illimitable.

 These springs of God’s love could go by many names: goodness, blessing, living water. Whatever you call this goodness that flows from God, it is what we desperately need to really live.

It’s guidance to think and do what is right. Guidance and direction that comes from beyond our own needs and wants. And the strength and will to pursue that guidance.

 It is a reservoir of hope and love when the world is dark or full of despair.

It’s connection to a higher purpose, the invitation to participate in the establishment of God’s kingdom.

The springs of God’s blessing and goodness provide access to renewal and reconciliation.

They bring not only blessings, but the awareness of blessing. The springs of God’s love enable us to feel gratitude for God’s gifts.

And the gift of peace. The peace which surpasses all human understanding. Gods peace which overcomes fear and anxiety.

The free flowing springs of God’s goodness and blessing provide all these things to us.

So where do we find these springs of God?

God is, indeed, present everywhere. It’s possible to encounter God or to find God’s goodness in all sorts of places. And it’s possible, maybe, even come across a real bubbling spring of living water at home or doing something that brings you joy.

But there are sure and certain places, too, where we are absolutely assured of finding God’s goodness and blessing bubbling up, given for us, to us. “Sure and certain.” That’s language of the sacraments. And participation in the sacraments of the church is one sure and certain place where God’s blessings bubble up into our lives. The words of the Bible are another. Our common prayer is another reliable, never-failing spring of goodness and blessing.

Bring your deep thirst, your great need, here and you will find the life-giving springs of God’s goodness and blessing.

Trinity Sunday

Exhilaration and Awe
Isaiah 6:1-8
Psalm 29

I think I’ve shared with you before a comment I remember one of my professors at seminary made: If you think you understand or can explain the Trinity, your understanding is almost certainly heresy. False doctrine. If you are thinking to your self right now… “I’ve always thought about the Trinity this way…” Your idea is almost certainly heresy. On the other hand, if you’re thinking… “The Trinity is beyond my feeble brain to comprehend; I’ll just put the whole idea aside…” That’s probably apostacy. The deliberate abandonment of religion. Our God is a Triune God. To put aside the Trinity is to put aside God.

If your thoughts about the Trinity are along the lines of… “It’s a wondrous, dynamic mystery, and I fall down in worship…” That’s a good place to start.

The collect for Trinity Sunday encourages us to hold faith in the glory of the Trinity and worship the unity.

Worship. We are definitely called to worship the God who is one-in-three and three-in-one. As I’ve been thinking about worship the last few days, I’m carrying this description of worship: an experience of exhilarated awe. It’s something we do, but it’s also something we experience. And that experience is full of exhilaration and awe.

There is, of course, a general definition of the word worship, and it can be used in all sorts of settings. The dictionary definition is worship is “the act of ascribing value.” We worship those things that we see as having value in our lives. To ascribe value is to worship. Thus it is that the Bears, or nature, or materials goods. We worship the things that have value for us. Some of those things are more worthy of our worship than others.

One of my theology textbooks defines religious worship as: “The conscious turning of the attention towards God in an attitude of praise and thanksgiving.” It is also something we do to restore right relationship with God.

Both of the Old Testament readings appointed for Trinity Sunday—the reading from Isaiah and the Psalm—talk about worship.

I love the reading from Isaiah. It paints such a lively, dynamic picture. Imagine the prophet standing at the door of the temple and peaking in. And seeing, not a kind and welcoming vision of Christ like he would see here (although that’s a good thing, of course), but seeing the awesome mystery of God.

His vision is almost beyond imagination and description. But it is also located in a real time and a real place. In the temple in Jerusalem. In the year that King Uzziah died. God is present within the time and space of our human lives.

It was an awesome vision. The hem of God’s robe filled the temple. Seraphs sang and danced and flew and worshiped. The building shook and filled with smoke.

At least in my imagination, this would have been an exhilarating experience—to witness the power and majesty of God. And a humbling experience, too, restoring a right relationship of humility before God.

And then there’s the psalm. The psalmist uses that word ascribe a lot. Probably not a word we use often in everyday speech. It means acknowledge… grant to God. Ascribe to the Lord glory and strength… Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his Name. Acknowledge the Lord’s glory and strength in your own life.

And then the psalmist describes the Lord’s power. Certainly a power beyond our control.

The God of glory thunders.
The voice of the Lord is powerful and full of splendor.
The voice of the Lord breaks the cedar trees.
He makes Lebanon skip like a calf and Mount Hermon like a young wild ox.
The voice of the Lord splits the flames of fire.
The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness.
The voice of the Lord makes the oak trees write and strips the forests bare.

 I’m reminded of something Annie Dillard says somewhere. Instead of wearing our Sunday best to church, we should wear hard hats and flack jackets. Keep this images of God’s power in mind and come to worship with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing before the glory and power of the Lord.

The power of God, the psalmist reminds us, is beyond our control. (Annie Dillard—hardhats to worship). Keep these images in mind. Stand with eyes wide, mouth gaping, heart racing.

Worship is an experience of exhilarating awe.

Isaiah reminds us of one more very important aspect of worship. The prophet is changed by his encounter with the glory of God. He is given his prophetic voice.

Everyone who participates in worship should expect to be touched and changed.

Pentecost

The Gift of Proclamation
Acts 2:1-21

Today is Pentecost. One of the great holy days of the church. Pentecost is often informally referred to as the birthday of the church. On Pentecost we celebrate the church’s birth. Which begs the question: How is a church born? What event constituted the birth of the church?

Many organizations trace their birth or beginning to an organizational meeting of convention. A group of people want to establish an organization so they get together, elect officers, create a constitution and draft by-laws. And an organization is born.

Or, thinking of current events, a corporation might describe its birth as an initial public offering of stock, enabling people to purchase a share, to be a part of the corporation’s life and mission.

Or maybe a building is built. A church’s birth might be identified with the completion or dedication of a church building.

None of these, of course, describe the birth of the church that we remember on Pentecost. We heard the story from Acts. What event happened on that Pentecost? God acted. God acted. The disciples were huddled together waiting. Hoping and trusting in God, but uncertain and fearful. And God acted, sending the Spirit.

The Book of Acts tells us that the Spirit came with a sound like a rushing wind and tongues, as of fire, rested upon all who were assembled there. And the effect of the Spirit was instantaneous. It’s not so much that the Spirit came that’s important. It’s what the Spirit did that matters. The effect of the Spirit on the disciples is what we should focus on. And the effect of the Spirit was to bestow the gift of proclamation. Immediately, the disciples began to proclaim the Good News to all nations… Peter, inspired and empowered, stood up to preach… The Spirit bestowed the gift of proclamation, and the church was born.

William Willimon [in the Interpretation commentary] writes about the Pentecost story in Acts:

“To those in the church today who regard the Spirit as an exotic phenomenon of mainly interior and purely personal significance, the story of the Spirit’s descent at Pentecost offers a rebuke. Luke goes to great pains to insist that this outpouring of the Spirit is anything but interior. Everything is by wind and fire, loud talk, buzzing confusion, and public debate. The Spirit is the power which enables the church to “go public” with its good news, to attract a crowd and, as we shall see in the next section, to have something to say worth hearing…. Pentecost is a phenomenon of mainly evangelistic significance.” 

Pentecost lets loose the power of proclamation. The church was born through the gift of proclamation. Certainly a phenomenon of evangelistic significance.

In the verses following today’s reading Peter rises up to preach. Remember this is Peter who not so long ago turned his back, skulked away and said of Jesus, “I do not know the man.” But the Spirit gives Peter the gift of proclamation and Peter says to all of the people gathered there:

This Jesus, a man attested to you by God with deeds of power, wonders and signs…

This Jesus, God raised up, and of that all of us are witnesses…

Therefore, let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified…

When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, “Brothers, what should we do?” Peter said to then, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him. 

Acts says that 3000 were baptized that day. The power of proclamation.

If we look at the Bible overall, descriptions of the Spirit are complex and manifold. The Spirit is described in different ways and does different things. We some of that in the epistle and Gospel for today. This sermon is not an academic treatise on the Spirit. My focus is on Pentecost, and Pentecost is about the Spirit’s gift of proclamation.

The gift of the Spirit, given at baptism, empowers, motivates, enables individuals with the power of proclamation. To be baptized means to become a proclaimer.

In a roundabout way, this leads me to think of a spiritual, I think it’s a Christmas spiritual; at least, I have it on a CD of Christmas spirituals by Odetta. I think I’ve quoted it before.

If anybody asks who you are, who you are, who you are… You tell them you’re a child of God.

And then the pronouns get muddled, which is part of the song’s grace.

Anybody ask who I am, who I am, who I am… tell them I’m a child of God. 

It’s not clear whether I’m supposed to tell them or you’re supposed to tell them. Both are good. Then there’s a verse:

Anybody ask who he is… and he is Jesus… anybody ask who he is, tell them he’s the child of God. Anybody ask who he is, who you are, who I am… Anybody ask you tell them you’re the child of God.

That’s a pretty good place to start proclamation. To proclaim yourself a child of God. To proclaim others children of God. To proclaim Jesus the child, the Son, of God. To let people know that you are a child God; to let others know that they are children of God; to let the world know that Jesus is the only Son of God.

Each of us can do that proclamation in our own voice, in our own way. Proclamation doesn’t have to be loud or eloquent or come from a pulpit. But it does have to be heard. Proclamation has to be shared with others. And each of us has some body to whom we are meant to be the proclaimer. Each of us has some opportunity into which we are meant to speak the Good News of God’s presence and love. Each of us, in some way is meant and empowered to be a proclaimer.

Just a little bit later in this service, we will baptize Ted. Among many other wondrous gifts, the Holy Spirit is bringing to Ted today his own power of proclamation. Ted’s powers of proclamation are as yet inarticulate, but the gift is given.

And we who are witnessing this baptism have at least two jobs going forward: One is to help Ted experience the truth of who he is, of who we are, and of who Jesus is. We all have a role in helping come to truly know himself a child of God, to see others as children of God and to know Jesus as God’s Son.

And we also have job to help him develop and find his own voice, his own particular calling of proclamation, a gift given him today by the Holy Spirit.

The Sixth Sunday of Easter

Beyond Our Understanding
Acts 10:44-48
Acts 8:26-40 (5 Easter)

Two questions from the Acts of the Apostles:

From last week the Ethiopian said: What is to prevent me from being baptized?

In the reading appointed for today Peter says: Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people?

Reviewing the stories just a bit. Last week we heard about the Ethiopian traveling from Jerusalem back home. On his way, he was reading the Scriptures, from the Book of Isaiah. With the help of Philip, he was converted. He came to know Jesus in his heart. Passing some water, he said to Philip, “what is to prevent me from being baptized?”

In this morning’s reading Peter is preaching to the assembled multitudes. The Holy Spirit falls upon many who heard Peter’s words, both Jews and Gentiles. They are filled with the Holy Spirit. Peter asks: “Can anyone withhold water for baptizing these people?”

These stories beg the question: What would prevent baptism? Who would withhold the water of baptism? Is there really something, anything, that can restrict the gift of baptism? Who would prevent or withhold baptism?

The answer is the church. The people who were the Christian church at the time the people who are the church today have the power to prevent or withhold baptism. Surely baptism is not appropriate for someone like the Ethiopian, so different from us, come from beyond the ends of the earth. And clearly, baptism should be withheld from Gentiles; God’s plan of salvation is for the Jews.

I hear these two passages from Acts in conjunction with the collect appointed for this Sunday, the Sixth Sunday of Easter:

O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire. 

God gives surpassing our understanding; God’s giving exceeds even our desires; God gives beyond our imagination. God pours gifts into the world beyond our understanding.

In these stories from Acts, God acts in the world, giving the gift of the Spirit. The Spirit blows where it will and falls on all sorts of people. The question is How will the church react? Will the people of the church—then or now—react thankfully and joyfully for the Spirits gifts? Or will the church’s reaction be restricted by the limits of our understanding or imagination?

As God pours God’s gifts into the world, the Spirit acts in others beyond our understanding. The Spirit acts in us beyond our desires. Or maybe it’s even more powerful to switch those around. The Spirit acts in others beyond our desires. The spirit acts in us beyond our understanding.

The gifts of the spirit to us and to others surpass our understanding, our desire, even our imagination. These stories are about baptism, about the exuberant inclusiveness of God’s gift of baptism. They also speak to the ongoing work of the Spirit in the life of all of the baptized community.

There’s a wonderful prayer in the Prayer Book; it’s one of my favorites. It’s often called the prayer for the seven-fold gifts of the Spirit. We say it after every baptism.

In this prayer we give thanks for the on going process of forgiveness and renewal which is God’s gift in baptism. We also pray that the newly baptized will know the seven-fold gifts of the Spirit. (Don’t try to count; it doesn’t really work.) But the gifts the Spirit gives are: an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love God, and gift of joy and wonder in all of God’s works.

The “circumcised believers” who were listening to Peter found it very difficult to understand how God could possibly wish to bestow those gifts on Gentiles.

But the Spirit fell upon all who heard Peter’s words.

As we consider these stories we should note that they are not just about how the Spirit acts in others beyond our understanding. This is about us, too. How often have you said or heard someone say, “I don’t believe that I have the gifts for that ministry.” Or, “I cannot understand that God could be calling me to do that.” Or how often do you say, in your heart, if not out loud: “I cannot imagine that I am truly a beloved child of God, forgiven loved and free,” as the hymn says.

Pray that we may not limit or restrict the spirit. Pray that, as the collect says, we may so love God in and above all things, that we will not let our limited understanding or our individual desires or our lack of imagination hinder the spirit’s gifts others. Pray that we will never let our limited understanding, our individual desires, or our lack of imagination prevent the Spirit’s action in our own lives.

The Fifth Sunday of Easter

The Journey to Conversion
Acts 8:26-40
John 15:1-8

Several journeys are described in today’s first reading from Acts. Philip is whisked hither and yon by the Spirit of the Lord. The Ethiopian is on a journey home from Jerusalem. But the most important journey is the Ethiopian’s journey of conversion. It is a journey that begins, metaphorically at least, beyond the ends of the earth. It ends in joy. We are told after his baptism, the Ethiopian goes on his way “rejoicing.” The journey of conversion is a long journey. To get to the joy of conversion takes a long journey.

There’s a phrase commonly used in the State of Maine to describe people who are born elsewhere. Those people are “from away.” The sentiment is not unique to Maine, but as far as I know the phrase is. From away. The phrase is powerfully descriptive. There is here, and then there is every place else. And a vast distance separates Maine from “away.” Even if “away” is only a mile away in New Hampshire, it is still a vast distance from “away” to Maine.

The Ethiopian was “from away.” In New Testament times to describe someone as an Ethiopian was to describe them as exotic and mysterious. The Ethiopian had come seemingly from beyond the ends of the known world. He had traveled an unimaginably long journey to come to the place where this story begins.

We are told quite a bit about him. He was probably a man of means and power, given his position at court. Maybe he was a God-fearer (non-Jews who believed in the Hebrew God.) Scholars debate the meaning and significance of the fact that he is described as a eunuch. It may simply refer to his position as a servant of the court of Candace. And, of course, we are told he is an Ethiopian, “from away.” He has come a great distance, almost from another world.

There are several reasons other-worldliness of his origins may be important to the telling of the story in Acts. First, it speaks to the expansiveness of the Gospel’s saving power. No longer is the debate whether Jesus came just for the Jews. No longer is the efficacy and saving power of the Gospel just for the Jews and the Gentiles of Palestine. The Good News of the Gospel is for all people.

Second, this story reminds all of us of the length and significance of the journey from wherever we begin our own journey of conversion to the place where we come to know the saving joy of Christ. For all of us the journey to conversion begins in a remote and distant world.

Writing about this portion of Acts, William Willimon (Interpretation Commentary on Acts) suggests that part of what the author of Acts is trying to convey is the power (and strangeness) of the Gospel. The Gospel is not a casual or natural part of life. It is strange. The difference between the secular world and the world of the Gospel is profound. The distance from a life lived without Christ to a life lived in union with Christ is a great distance. The journey of conversion is a long and significant journey.

The contemporary writer C. S. Lewis writes about his own journey of conversion—it takes him a whole book to tell the story. It’s a long journey. The book is called Surprised by Joy. Like the Ethiopian, Lewis’ journey of conversion ends in joy.

The length and significant of the journey of conversion is important for us to ponder. Many of us were offered membership in the Body of Christ through baptism as infants. We define our life of faith as relatively comfortable, relatively regular church attendance. It does take some purpose and commitment to come to church regularly. But it is possible to be baptized, even to come to church regularly, and never make that profound journey of conversion. It doesn’t just happen. It is a long and significant journey.

For the Ethiopian conversion led to baptism. But baptism and conversion are different things, not always linked, regardless of whether you were baptized as an infant or an adult. Basically, baptism is God’s promise to us that we are God’s beloved children, and God will never abandon or forsake us.

But we must still make the journey of conversion. Conversion is what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel. When our hearts and souls abide in him and he in us. When we know the joy of union with God. When God’s own life suffuses ours and we share in God’s peace and purpose.

It’s a long way from the ends of the earth to joy, to this sort of union with God. It’s a long journey from a world without the grace of the Gospel to the place where we actually participate in eternal life. To make that journey takes work, perseverance and help. Our journey of conversion takes the help of others.

Philip was sent by the Spirit of the Lord to help the Ethiopian complete his journey of conversion. That’s the other important part of this story. The Spirit of the Lord sent Philip to help the Ethiopian. The Ethiopian’s journey of conversion in this story begins with reading the Scriptures. That’s one great place to begin the journey of conversion. There are other starting points… acting with compassion in outreach to others… participating in a small group dedicated to exploring spirituality. There are different roads to conversion and different starting places, but we all need help to complete the journey.

And the Spirit of the Lord will send us help. So look for it. Look for those whom the Spirit is sending to help you. You need their help on your own conversion journey.

At the risk of descending to the really trite, I want to share a joke that some of you may have heard. I’m sure there are different variations, but you’ll get the point.

There is a great flood taking place. A man is driven to the roof of his house to escape the rising water. As the waters are beginning to rise a fire fighter comes by with a ladder and offers to save the man. But the man says, “No. My trust is in the Lord. I am praying to the Lord to save me, and I know he will. I do not need your help.” So the firefighter leaves.

The waters continue to rise. A neighbor floats by in a little dinghy and urges the man on the roof to get into the boat so they can get to safety. But the man says, “No, my trust is in the Lord.  He will save me.   I do not need your help.” So his neighbor leaves him there on the roof as the waters continue to rise.

Finally, the Coast Guard arrives with a helicopter and they offer to drop a rescue basket and lift the man off the roof. The waters are lapping at his feet, but he says, “No, my trust is in the Lord.” He refuses the Coast Guard’s help.

The floodwaters continue to rise and pretty soon the man is swept away and drowns. He finds himself in heaven and he is pretty put out with the Almighty. So he says to the Lord, “Lord I trusted in you. Why didn’t you save me?” And the Lord replies: “I send you a ladder. I sent you a boat. I sent you a helicopter…” 

 Our lives are at stake. Our participation in the joy and peace of eternal life shared with God is at stake. Even for folks brought up in a Christian family and who may be regular in church attendance, the journey of conversion is still a long and often difficult journey. We can complete that journey of conversion only with the help of others. The Spirit of the Lord will send us that help. But we do have to accept it.