May 21, 2000

James R. Gorman

In most of the book of Acts, the author, Luke, turns our attention to the work of the Holy Spirit in the forming of the new Church after the death of Jesus. It's mostly about the interior life of the church: How shall we distribute the offering to those in need? What shall we do on the question of building new churches outside of Jerusalem? Those sorts of issues and questions.

But every once in a while in this first book following the Gospels, Luke turns the camera around and gives us this painful pushing scene of the Holy Spirit moving the church in its infancy beyond its own prejudices. Luke focuses his camera on one of the outsiders, one of those people whose very fate is being debated by the church. "Should we let them in or not let them in?" And this debate seems to be going on with the outsiders very much still outside, waiting on the word of the Church: "How did it go?" "Will I be admitted or not?"

And the strangest of all the stories that Luke tells is that of the Ethiopian eunuch in his chariot from Jerusalem to Gaza, to whom Philip spoke.

He's an Ethiopian (a Greek word meaning dark faced or burnt-faced people). I mean, how far out and away and distant can you be? Ethiopia is quite literally the end of the earth. He's an Ethiopian. And he is a eunuch.

A eunuch is a man who by accident or by choice was rendered sexless. Usually such persons found gainful employment in palaces, especially in the service of queens. For by being sexless, they were not derailed by their own private interests. Harmless around the harem, never having to be late because they were driving the car pool that morning. No wife. No children. No anything to distract. Never having to go to his son's baseball game or parent/teacher conferences. Eunuchs could be single-mindedly devoted and loyal to the queen.

But they were not welcome in the holy places of Israel. The scriptures were very clear about this. Deuteronomy 23 verse 1: "the eunuch shall not be permitted in the assembly of the people of God."
 
Any questions? "the eunuch shall not be permitted in the assembly of the people of God."

Then, what in the world does it mean when it says in the book of Acts that he had been up to Jerusalem to worship? Worship?

What sort of man is this? What kind of man would walk around the outside of the worshiping community, stand at the edge, look over the fence, ask people what's going on, "How was the service?" "How was the sermon?" "What did the priest do?" "Were there many people there?" Peeking through the knotholes, getting stuff secondhand. Looking over fences, walking the edge of the crowd.

Who would call this worship?

I ask you seriously, why would any human being continue to knock at a locked door, and stand there with bloody knuckles and refuse to go home? Why?

The door is locked. Shall I read it again? "You are not welcome." It's clear, isn't it?

And yet, there he is, lingering at the edge of the people of God, with that verse staring at him day and night. Why does he do it? Even if somebody, even a careless usher, admitted him, he still wouldn't fit in. The moment he got inside, it would be obvious to everybody; you don't fit in. You just don't fit in.

I mean, even if we let you in, someone would have to make it clear, "You just don't fit in."

"The eunuch shall not be permitted in the assembly of the people of God."

Why does this Ethiopian eunuch keep doing it? Well, you know what he's doing. You do it yourself. I do it myself. He's flipping through the pages of the Bible to find his own name. He's trying to find a passage that is about him.

Everybody in the world wants to find his or her own name in the Bible. I want to find my name. I want to find a verse that says, "FOR ME!" And I'll write in the margin: That's who I am. Just a little promise, just a phrase, the eunuch is looking for his name. We all do that.

And so he's reading in Isaiah and he finds it! At least he thinks he finds it. It's almost too good to be true. There it says, in Isaiah 56:

"No longer let the foreigner say, 'surely the Lord will separate me from his people.' No longer let the eunuch say: 'I am but a dry tree.' For thus says the Lord, 'The days are coming when the eunuch who hears my voice and obeys my law and keeps my covenant, I shall be to him as generation and generation and generation of children, better than sons and daughters it shall be to the eunuch.' "

So when Philip comes on the scene, the eunuch is reading in Isaiah 53, "As a lamb is led to the slaughter, as a sheep before its shearer is dumb, he didn't open his mouth. Who will declare his generation?" Who's going to declare his generation? The subject of the passage is "cut off out of the land of the living." He had no children. He had no generation. He had no, as they say, "issue." He had no one to remember him. He had no one to carry on his name. He was just cut off, killed without any children; who's going to declare any justice for him?

And Philip says, "Do you understand what you are reading?" And the eunuch says, "No. I don't have anyone to help me. But I found some good stuff here. Now, is the prophet talking about himself, or is the prophet talking about somebody else?"

And Philip says, "Let me tell you who that passage is all about. It's about Jesus."

"You mean he was cut off without any children? He didn't have any generation - any grandchildren to carry on his name?"

"No," says Philip, "He was cut off from the land of the living."

"Do you mean," says the eunuch, "that maybe this other verse here - now you know that I'm just an Ethiopian, and I don't know how you feel about Ethiopians- but it says here: 'No longer let the foreigner say, "surely the Lord will say get out." '

"Now I know I'm just a eunuch and I know what it says in Deuteronomy, but it says in Isaiah, 'No longer let the eunuch say, I'm just a dry tree-listen-I will bless you and you will be remembered and it will be better than having children, grand children, great grandchildren, forever.'

"Philip, do you suppose it's possible-I know I'm just an Ethiopian-I know I'm just a eunuch-but do you suppose it's possible? Could I be a member of the Church? Would you baptize me?"

And Philip says, "Yeah, I guess."

"I can think of a hundred people who are going to be upset, but yeah. I don't know how this is going to go over back home, but - Yes.

"In fact, I'm surprised to hear myself say this, but yes.

"Because, the fact of the matter is, who am I to say no, when it is clear that God has already said, 'Yes.' "

Now, do we have to put this up to a vote in this group? Or do we order the secretary to cast a unanimous ballot?