It’s OK to have questions. Of course, children have lots of questions. Anyone who’s been a parent or been around children knows that some of children’s questions are off the wall, and some are unanswerable. “Why is the sky blue, Daddy?” Unless you’re an atmospheric chemist, and even if you are, you’re likely to answer, “Because it is.” Teens have lots of questions, too, as they wrestle with issues of personal morality and identity. How do we answer when a teen asks, “When can I start having sex?” Or, “what should I do with my life?” As adults, we too have questions. About ethical issues: “Should we continue to have capital punishment?” In times of disaster: “Why did God allow…?” Despite our extensive confirmation materials, our confirmands still had questions – lots of them. And just when we think we have most of life’s big questions answered, many of us find that in midlife we start asking questions again: “Is this all there is?” and “To what am I called?” It’s OK to have questions. It’s necessary to have questions and to seek the answers to our questions. We must not be afraid of expressing our doubts and asking questions. Ultimately it’s the only way to continue growing, most especially to continue growing spiritually.
The Ethiopian eunuch had questions. Beginning with Easter day, our first Scripture readings have been from the Book of Acts, the sequel to the Gospel according to Luke. As you’ve probably guessed, The Acts of the Apostles, to give the book its full name, is a record of the outward expansion from Jerusalem of the earliest community of the followers of Jesus. What is more important, Acts details the transformation of the Way from a reformist Jewish sect into a distinctly inclusive community that welcomed people of all classes and ethnicities and that enabled followers of both genders to assume leadership roles. Our readings in Easter tide come from the first part of the book and encourage us to consider the question of what it means to be an Easter people, a people living with and into the resurrection of Jesus. Although we hear selections from Acts every Easter tide, it’s worth reading the whole book for yourself, especially if you want to get a sense of the questions with which Jesus’ earliest followers struggled.
Today we heard the story of the encounter between Philip the Evangelist, as tradition now calls him, and a royal official from Ethiopia. An aside: this Philip is not to be confused with Philip from Bethsaida in Galilee, one of the twelve apostles, who appears in the gospels. We encounter Philip the Evangelist only in Acts, as he is commissioned one of the “seven” to take charge of the charitable work of the community, in an encounter with a sorcerer named Simon, in this story, and in Acts 21, where he is at home in Caesarea Maratima.
As we heard, impelled by the Spirit – another important player in this story – Philip flees the persecution of Jesus’ followers in Jerusalem and heads down towards Gaza. Presumably on foot, he hears a man reading aloud – as people commonly did in the ancient world – from the prophecy of Isaiah. The man, an Ethiopian and a eunuch, welcomes Philip into his chariot. Philip asks a leading question, “Do you understand what you are reading?” And then the Ethiopian begins to ask questions.
Let’s look at those questions. Answering Philip’s opening question, the Ethiopian says, “How can I understand unless someone guides me?” Now, this eunuch is a wealthy, important man, in what was, in the ancient world, a wealthy and important country. He could actually have been an Ethiopian Jew, or, more likely, one of what were then called “God-fearers,” gentiles who embraced the monotheism and ethics of Judaism but did not undergo circumcision. Whichever he was, and though he had come a long way to reach Jerusalem, as a sexually mutilated man, he could not be admitted to worship in the temple. If he knew his Scripture, he knew that Deuteronomy 23:1 was absolutely clear on this point: “No one whose testes are crushed or whose member is cut off shall be admitted into the congregation of the Lord.”
But the Ethiopian was not reading Deuteronomy, he was reading Isaiah. Isaiah 11 had assured him that God would redeem God’s people from all over the earth. God had also declared through Isaiah that, “As for the eunuchs who keep My Sabbaths, who have chosen what I desire and hold fast to My covenant – I will give them in My House and within my walls, a monument and a name better than sons and daughters” (56:4-5). So which is it? Is he, as an Ethiopian and a castrated man, welcome in God’s house or not? He needs help in understanding the Scripture in front of him.
As do we in reading Scripture. Like the Ethiopian we too may discover that Scripture offers us different, even contradictory, perspectives. Like him, we too need to know the historical and narrative context of what we read. More important, we too need informed guides -- good teachers or books – who help us to understand Scripture. Even if we fervently believe that the “Holy Scriptures … are the Word of God,” and that they “contain all things necessary for to Salvation,” we still need help in understanding how to pattern our lives after the teachings of Scripture.
The Ethiopian was reading the passage from Isaiah about what we have come to call the “suffering servant.” Christians now commonly see this passage as foretelling Jesus’ crucifixion. But the Ethiopian did not know this yet, and so he rightly asked, “About whom does the prophet says this, about himself or someone else?” In hearing about the humiliation and injustice suffered by Isaiah’s servant, could the Ethiopian also have been wondering, “Does this Scripture also apply to me? Does it speak to the humiliation and injustice that I, as a mutilated male, have experienced? Is there good news also for me?” Indeed, there is. As he heard Philip’s explanation, as he heard the “good news of Jesus,” and especially as he heard that the community of Jesus’ followers welcomed all comers, surely he came to understand, that, even in his condition, there was welcome and acceptance among those who strove to “abide in Jesus.”
And is that true for us? Do we hear the good news of Scripture? Although we always need to remember that the Scriptures were not written yesterday, we also need to remember that Scripture is never solely about the past. The good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection and of God’s love for all of God’s children should also be cause for rejoicing for us.
Encouraged by what he has heard, the Ethiopian then asks, “What is there to prevent me from being baptized?” Conceivably, there could have been several real obstacles, especially if the Ethiopian was a gentile and thought he would have to convert to Judaism. As a foreigner, he would be very far away from the center of the Way, which was still in Jerusalem. As a sexually damaged male, he was unwelcome in traditional worship settings, and as the finance minister of the queen of Ethiopia he was clearly loyal to a foreign power. Can you imagine the Ethiopian’s joy when Philip replied, “Absolutely nothing?” Can you imagine the overwhelming sense of God’s grace that he must have felt when he and Philip came up out of the water? Foreign and damaged though he was, he was now irrevocably a part of God’s household, forever a member of the Body of Christ.
All of us have been baptized. Perhaps instead of the Ethiopian’s questions we might ask, “What is to prevent me from taking the next step in my spiritual journey?” Perhaps you need to ask yourself, “What is to prevent me from being confirmed?” What is there to prevent me from reaffirming what was done for me as a child? What is there to prevent me from making an adult commitment to the church or from renewing the commitment I made when I was baptized? If you have been confirmed, perhaps you need to ask yourself, “What is to prevent me from seeking to take my baptismal vows more seriously?” What is to prevent me from taking the risk of leaving my comfort zone and taking another step in my journey of faith?
It’s OK to have questions. No, it’s necessary to have questions. Questions, and even doubt, are integral parts of the faith journey of an adult. To continue to grow in faith, like the Ethiopian, we need to continue to ask our questions, as we confront the Scriptures in Bible study, as we study theology, as we try new forms of prayer, and as we engage in ministries that stretch our understanding of the world around us. We need to open ourselves to the leading of the Holy Spirit and trust that the Spirit will continue to guide us into answers to all our questions. Most important, we need to trust that God’s grace abounds, and that all of us are embraced and welcomed into fellowship with Christ – wherever we are on our journey of faith.
Showing posts with label Easter 5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter 5. Show all posts
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Bearing Witness
Why are December 26th and December 28th important days on the church calendar? During the twelve days of Christmas tide, when we joyfully give thanks for the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, most of us slide right over these two days. We shouldn’t. On December 28th, we remember the Holy Innocents, the boys under two years of age murdered by Herod’s soldiers as they went looking for the child sought by the Persian astrologers. These boys were the first to die because of Herod’s fear of the one born “king of the Jews.” And on December 26th – Boxing Day in the U.K. and Canada – we celebrate the feast of St. Stephen, Deacon and Martyr. Some of you may even remember the old carol that begins “Good King Wenceslas looked out/ on the feast of Stephen ....” which describes the king’s encounter with a poor man the day after Christmas.
So why are we hearing about Stephen now, and in Easter tide yet? Is it only because Stephen had a vision of the risen Christ standing at God’s right hand? Is it because the text mentions Saul, the Pharisee who had yet to become one of the greatest evangelists of the early church? Actually, the reason may be that we are far enough into Easter tide that the lectionary encourages us to ponder the deeper implications of life in the risen Christ. It’s true that we will continue rejoicing in the Easter event and shouting our “alleluias” until Pentecost. It’s also true that every Sunday in the church year is a celebration of the resurrection. Yet the further we go into Easter tide the more we realize that, as followers of the risen Christ, we are called to do more than simply rejoice in what God has done. We are also called to bear witness to what we see and experience of Christ, to “proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.”
All our lessons remind us of our call to bear witness. The writer of the first letter in Peter’s name reminds us that we, like his original hearers, have become “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” In our reading from the Gospel according to John, the evangelist shows Jesus, in his last speech before his execution, restating for his friends and us who he truly is, assuaging our fears of being abandoned, and alluding to the unified community we are to become as his disciples. Most important, the story of the death of Stephen gives us a concrete example of witness to the impact of experience of the risen Christ and a foretaste of the consequences of letting Christ into our lives.
Actually, we’ve been hearing selections from the book of Acts all through Easter tide. The Acts of the Apostles is a continuation of the Gospel according to Luke, and it was compiled by the author of the Gospel. It vividly tells the story of the creation and expansion of the earliest Christian communities following Pentecost. In previous weeks we have heard excerpts from Peter’s sermons, which helped the church grow in Jerusalem.
Now we see some of the controversy that the new community of Jesus’ followers provoked. As we read in chapter 6 of Acts, Stephen was one of the seven chosen to serve the community, its first deacon. Like the other disciples, Stephen also performed “signs and wonders.” He also eloquently proclaimed the good news of Jesus to his fellow Jews. It wasn’t long before he was dragged before the religious leadership and accused of blasphemy. In answer to the charge, Stephen launched into a lengthy sermon, defending his faith in Jesus. He also enraged his fellow Jews by accusing them of unfaithfulness to God. When he described the risen Jesus, the mob took him out to lynch him. Like a faithful follower of Jesus, and like Jesus at his own execution, Stephen asked Jesus to receive his spirit and prayed for forgiveness for his persecutors. Ironically, as a result of Stephen’s death, the Christian community moved out of Jerusalem, as the disciples fled the city fearing that further persecution would follow. Sometime later, the young Pharisee Saul had his own encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus.
As we know only too well, Stephen was hardly the last Christian martyr. Indeed, Christians endured persecution throughout the first three centuries after Jesus’ death. Peter and Paul were both martyred in Rome, probably in 64 A.D., under Nero’s persecution of Christians. The long list of those who went to the lions, the stake, and the gallows includes Blandina and her companions in Lyon, Ignatius of Antioch and his successor Polycarp, Justin, the noblewoman Perpetua and her servant Felicity, 14th century Czech reformer Jan Hus, Joan of Arc, and our own Thomas Cranmer, author of the first Book of Common Prayer, who was sent to the stake by Queen Mary in 1556. Closer to our own day, we continue to venerate dissenting theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, hanged by the Nazis in April 1945. And just this week we remembered the Martyrs of Sudan, the Christian bishops, chiefs, commanders, clergy, and people of Sudan who bravely declared on May 16, 1983 that they would not abandon God as God had revealed himself to them, even when they faced death at the hands of the fundamentalist Islamic government in Khartoum.
Perhaps some of you saw the 2010 film Of Gods and Men. If not, perhaps we should see it together as a parish. In 1996, during Algeria’s civil war, seven French Trappist monks from the monastery of Tibhirine, Algeria, were kidnapped by the Armed Islamic Group of Algeria. These gentle monks had been grounded in a peaceful routine of prayer, as they provided medical and other assistance to the local community. Even though civil order broke down and the monks were threatened by extremist groups, they bravely decided to remain in place and continue to serve the Muslims among whom they lived. Sometime after their kidnapping they were found beheaded. Like the story of Stephen, Of Gods and Men portrays lives poured out in service to others, even others who might be considered “enemies,” and even at the cost of one’s own life.
By God’s grace, you and I live in a country where, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof ….” By God’s grace, we are free to practice our chosen religion – or no religion at all. We welcome Christians of all stripes, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, and atheists. God willing, no one will turn wild animals loose on us or point guns at us demanding that we practice a certain religion. So what is our challenge as followers of Jesus? How do we understand the witness that Jesus calls us to bear? Here is how I would answer that question. First, we are to take seriously our baptismal promise to “proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.” Like Stephen, we are to have the courage to speak of what we know of Christ and of what we experience in our own lives of the risen Christ. And like the Trappist monks we are to steadfastly continue showing forth our commitment to Christ in our service to others.
Perhaps more important, we are also called to pray: to pray for victims of violence and persecution everywhere. We are called to pray for Christians who still face persecution today. But we are also called to remember that, in the sad history of the world, Christians have not been the only martyrs. Other religions have also suffered persecution – often at the hands of Christians. Millions have been martyred for their ethnicity – think Armenians, Jews, or Tutsis – for economic and social reasons, for their race – think people of African descent in this country and much of the new world – for their gender – think of the burning of widows in India, female infanticide, and, just two years ago, the near-fatal attack on Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousafzai – or for their sexual orientation – think of Matthew Shepard in Wyoming. We are called to remember that no one – whatever their religion, ethnicity, social status, race, gender, or sexuality – is excluded from God’s love. We are called to pray for all who have suffered for their beliefs and for who they are.
We are also called to pray for the courage and self-sacrificial love of martyrs like Stephen and others whose faith inspires us. We are called to remember that the celebration of Easter goes beyond colored eggs, flowers, and butterflies. Most important, we are called to stand with those working for the cessation of violence and for peace among all people. Do we take our Scriptures seriously? Then hear the challenge of the Book of Proverbs: to “speak for those who have no voice, for the justice of all who are dispossessed. Speak up, judge righteously, and defend the cause of the oppressed and needy” (Proverbs 31:8-9). God grant us the grace, strength, and courage to follow behind Stephen, to bear witness to the risen Christ, and to answer God’s call.
So why are we hearing about Stephen now, and in Easter tide yet? Is it only because Stephen had a vision of the risen Christ standing at God’s right hand? Is it because the text mentions Saul, the Pharisee who had yet to become one of the greatest evangelists of the early church? Actually, the reason may be that we are far enough into Easter tide that the lectionary encourages us to ponder the deeper implications of life in the risen Christ. It’s true that we will continue rejoicing in the Easter event and shouting our “alleluias” until Pentecost. It’s also true that every Sunday in the church year is a celebration of the resurrection. Yet the further we go into Easter tide the more we realize that, as followers of the risen Christ, we are called to do more than simply rejoice in what God has done. We are also called to bear witness to what we see and experience of Christ, to “proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.”
All our lessons remind us of our call to bear witness. The writer of the first letter in Peter’s name reminds us that we, like his original hearers, have become “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” In our reading from the Gospel according to John, the evangelist shows Jesus, in his last speech before his execution, restating for his friends and us who he truly is, assuaging our fears of being abandoned, and alluding to the unified community we are to become as his disciples. Most important, the story of the death of Stephen gives us a concrete example of witness to the impact of experience of the risen Christ and a foretaste of the consequences of letting Christ into our lives.
Actually, we’ve been hearing selections from the book of Acts all through Easter tide. The Acts of the Apostles is a continuation of the Gospel according to Luke, and it was compiled by the author of the Gospel. It vividly tells the story of the creation and expansion of the earliest Christian communities following Pentecost. In previous weeks we have heard excerpts from Peter’s sermons, which helped the church grow in Jerusalem.
Now we see some of the controversy that the new community of Jesus’ followers provoked. As we read in chapter 6 of Acts, Stephen was one of the seven chosen to serve the community, its first deacon. Like the other disciples, Stephen also performed “signs and wonders.” He also eloquently proclaimed the good news of Jesus to his fellow Jews. It wasn’t long before he was dragged before the religious leadership and accused of blasphemy. In answer to the charge, Stephen launched into a lengthy sermon, defending his faith in Jesus. He also enraged his fellow Jews by accusing them of unfaithfulness to God. When he described the risen Jesus, the mob took him out to lynch him. Like a faithful follower of Jesus, and like Jesus at his own execution, Stephen asked Jesus to receive his spirit and prayed for forgiveness for his persecutors. Ironically, as a result of Stephen’s death, the Christian community moved out of Jerusalem, as the disciples fled the city fearing that further persecution would follow. Sometime later, the young Pharisee Saul had his own encounter with Jesus on the road to Damascus.
As we know only too well, Stephen was hardly the last Christian martyr. Indeed, Christians endured persecution throughout the first three centuries after Jesus’ death. Peter and Paul were both martyred in Rome, probably in 64 A.D., under Nero’s persecution of Christians. The long list of those who went to the lions, the stake, and the gallows includes Blandina and her companions in Lyon, Ignatius of Antioch and his successor Polycarp, Justin, the noblewoman Perpetua and her servant Felicity, 14th century Czech reformer Jan Hus, Joan of Arc, and our own Thomas Cranmer, author of the first Book of Common Prayer, who was sent to the stake by Queen Mary in 1556. Closer to our own day, we continue to venerate dissenting theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, hanged by the Nazis in April 1945. And just this week we remembered the Martyrs of Sudan, the Christian bishops, chiefs, commanders, clergy, and people of Sudan who bravely declared on May 16, 1983 that they would not abandon God as God had revealed himself to them, even when they faced death at the hands of the fundamentalist Islamic government in Khartoum.
Perhaps some of you saw the 2010 film Of Gods and Men. If not, perhaps we should see it together as a parish. In 1996, during Algeria’s civil war, seven French Trappist monks from the monastery of Tibhirine, Algeria, were kidnapped by the Armed Islamic Group of Algeria. These gentle monks had been grounded in a peaceful routine of prayer, as they provided medical and other assistance to the local community. Even though civil order broke down and the monks were threatened by extremist groups, they bravely decided to remain in place and continue to serve the Muslims among whom they lived. Sometime after their kidnapping they were found beheaded. Like the story of Stephen, Of Gods and Men portrays lives poured out in service to others, even others who might be considered “enemies,” and even at the cost of one’s own life.
By God’s grace, you and I live in a country where, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof ….” By God’s grace, we are free to practice our chosen religion – or no religion at all. We welcome Christians of all stripes, Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, and atheists. God willing, no one will turn wild animals loose on us or point guns at us demanding that we practice a certain religion. So what is our challenge as followers of Jesus? How do we understand the witness that Jesus calls us to bear? Here is how I would answer that question. First, we are to take seriously our baptismal promise to “proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.” Like Stephen, we are to have the courage to speak of what we know of Christ and of what we experience in our own lives of the risen Christ. And like the Trappist monks we are to steadfastly continue showing forth our commitment to Christ in our service to others.
Perhaps more important, we are also called to pray: to pray for victims of violence and persecution everywhere. We are called to pray for Christians who still face persecution today. But we are also called to remember that, in the sad history of the world, Christians have not been the only martyrs. Other religions have also suffered persecution – often at the hands of Christians. Millions have been martyred for their ethnicity – think Armenians, Jews, or Tutsis – for economic and social reasons, for their race – think people of African descent in this country and much of the new world – for their gender – think of the burning of widows in India, female infanticide, and, just two years ago, the near-fatal attack on Pakistani schoolgirl Malala Yousafzai – or for their sexual orientation – think of Matthew Shepard in Wyoming. We are called to remember that no one – whatever their religion, ethnicity, social status, race, gender, or sexuality – is excluded from God’s love. We are called to pray for all who have suffered for their beliefs and for who they are.
We are also called to pray for the courage and self-sacrificial love of martyrs like Stephen and others whose faith inspires us. We are called to remember that the celebration of Easter goes beyond colored eggs, flowers, and butterflies. Most important, we are called to stand with those working for the cessation of violence and for peace among all people. Do we take our Scriptures seriously? Then hear the challenge of the Book of Proverbs: to “speak for those who have no voice, for the justice of all who are dispossessed. Speak up, judge righteously, and defend the cause of the oppressed and needy” (Proverbs 31:8-9). God grant us the grace, strength, and courage to follow behind Stephen, to bear witness to the risen Christ, and to answer God’s call.
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