Us vs Them
Show my Team Canada hockey jersey. Will you indulge me with one more hockey reference? I promise I won’t do this every time I speak!
It’s known as the greatest rivalry in sports. Team Canada and Team U.S.A. Two evenly matched, highly skilled women’s hockey teams. Two weeks ago, the final, gold medal game of the world championship tournament was, once again, a classic showdown. And the game did not disappoint. The teams went back and forth, trading goals until the 3rd period. Tied 5-5, the game was headed for overtime, as so often happens between these two. There were great chances at both ends. And then the Americans took a penalty for too many players on the ice, and with 2 seconds left on the power play Canada scored to win the game! We were jumping up and down. Yelling and cheering! This year I watched it on TV as the tournament was hosted in New York State. Last year, the outcome was so different. We were there, in Brampton, ON for that final gold medal game, when the Americans won.That was tough! So the game this year? Oh. It was a great game! And such an exciting, nail biting finish! And sweet revenge after last year! It’s a classic “us vs them” storyline. My team against the “other.”
But something felt a little different this year. In the last 4 months these high level international players have been part of launching a new women’s professional league of 6 teams (3 in Canada, 3 in the U.S.A.) Arch rivals have become teammates. They have learned to respect each other, to depend on each other. As fans we have a chance to get to know some of these American players too. They are incredible athletes and amazing people. It’s hard not to like them! And they really are on the same team–all working together in a shared effort to build opportunities for women and girls to play hockey. Suddenly, the “us vs them” storyline didn’t fit so well. The revenge win doesn’t feel quite so sweet. When we can appreciate the gifts and strengths of the “other;” when “us” and “them” become “we,” they end up stronger together.
Context
The story we read this morning is also an “us vs them” storyline. Us: the insiders of the Jesus movement. The ones from the Jewish community, including Jesus’ disciples, and the devout Jews from their scattered communities all over the Mediterranean world who joined the movement when they were in Jerusalem for the Pentecost celebrations. Until chapter 8 in the book of Acts, this is still an insider movement, taking place within the Jewish tradition. And then something happens. Severe persecution breaks out against the followers of Jesus. One of their group, Stephen, is brutally killed, reminiscent of the crucifixion of Jesus. Most of the rest of them scatter, out of Jerusalem, fearing for their lives.
Philip
Philip is one of those who scatter. Philip the Evangelist. He comes from the mostly Greek speaking diaspora Jews who joined the Jesus movement. He heads north into Samaria to share signs and wonders and teach about Jesus, the Messiah. And then his ministry takes an unexpected turn. Following the directions of an angel messenger, he takes to a desert road between Jerusalem and Gaza. Here he meets an Ethiopian in a chariot, reading from the scroll of Isaiah, but perplexed at its meaning. Again, the Spirit nudges Philip to go closer, giving him the chance, beginning with that Scripture, to tell the Ethiopian the good news about Jesus. As they ride along they come to some water, and Philip baptizes the Ethiopian.
The Ethiopian Eunuch
The Ethiopian, on so many levels, is a “them.” He is Black. He comes from a land far, far away. He is not a Jew, at least not fully and completely. He is a so-called, “God-fearer,” which means he worships Yahweh, the God of the Jews, but he can’t participate fully unless he is circumcised. And he is a eunuch–someone whose reproductive organs have been removed. In the ancient world this was sometimes done to servants intentionally. Since eunuchs could not have wives or children they were seen as more likely to be loyal to the king or queen. Eunuchs were often put in charge of the monarch’s treasury, as this Ethiopian was. Or they were put in charge of the king’s harem–wives, concubines and female servants–as they were not expected to be attracted to any of these women, and thus pose a threat to the king’s sense of control. So their value as a person was not considered, only their usefulness to the monarch. And a ruler could easily get rid of a eunuch without much outcry, since they didn’t have a family to protect them. So the Ethiopian we meet is on many levels, an outsider, despite his position as treasurer of his nation. And given his sexual identity, on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he would have had to stay in the outer court of the temple, if he was even allowed in that far.
Samaria
One thing that struck me right away about this story is how Philip, an insider, is called to share the story of Jesus with outsiders. He is the first missionary to Samaria. For Jews, Samaria is definitely a “them” kind of place. Long ago Samaritans and Jews were all part of the same group—the 12 tribes of Israel brought into the Promised Land. But after King Solomon died, the kingdom of Israel split in two: Judah in the south, Samaria to the north. Judean Jews looked down on Samaritan Jews because their kings were lenient with marriage outside the faith. And they sometimes allowed worship of idols along with worship of God. When Samaria was conquered by another country, Judah was not sympathetic. And when Judeans returned from exile after they were conquered and carted away for generations, Samaritans didn’t throw a welcome home party. The two kingdoms developed different ways of worshiping, each with a temple they claimed was the dwelling place of God. By Jesus’ day, this conflict had been going on for hundreds of years. They seemed doomed to disagree and dislike one another forever.
And yet, this is where Philip finds open-hearted listeners. Crowds gather and listen intently “eager to hear his message and see the miraculous signs he did” (Acts 8:6). We know that Jesus did teach and heal in the villages of Samaria, so perhaps the soil was already well prepared. But why then does the Spirit call Philip away from this fertile ground to the dry desert landscape further south? Why take him away from eager crowds to a lone traveler? Why pull him away from what, by all accounts looks like a flourishing, fruitful mission in Samaria to a desert road to nowhere? For Gaza, then as now, had been nearly destroyed by hostilities.
The Good News
And what is it about the Ethiopian that makes him such a significant and receptive listener? Notice what he is reading. He is reading from the scroll of Isaiah, one of several passages referred to as the Servant Songs, describing in harrowing detail one who is humiliated, rejected, persecuted and ultimately killed. Here Isaiah tells how astonished and contrite kings recognize that the one who has suffered much has become the one who saves–the touchstone, the archetypal symbol that inspires. Some think this suffering servant refers to the prophet Isaiah’s personal experience, some think it represents the Hebrew people in their generations of suffering and persecution. Certainly the earliest followers of Jesus find this passage to speak beyond its historical context to Jesus’ own experience of death and resurrection.
As an outsider, an “other” this Ethiopian knows something about suffering. He can identify with being despised and rejected–to having shame heaped upon him. We don’t know much more about him, or why he would make such a long and difficult journey to Jerusalem, more than 2,000 km’s from his home. Just that he went to Jerusalem to worship–to pay homage to Yahweh, God of the Jews. Something draws him toward this God and this tradition. On his journey home, he does have a copy of the scroll of Isaiah. He is curious enough to try and learn more. He is seeking understanding and instruction.
We don’t know what Philip tells him. The text doesn’t tell us. Sometimes I am frustrated when the bible writers leave such obvious gaps. It would be so much more helpful if Luke would tell us what Philip said, wouldn’t it?! But here, I think the silence, the gap in the text is brilliant. We are not told what Philip says, so we are invited to imagine what we would say. How would you describe the good news about Jesus? How would you explain why you choose to be a follower of Jesus? If you were Philip, running alongside that chariot on the desert road to Gaza, how would you explain the story of Jesus and what it has come to mean to you?
What we do know is that the Ethiopian is so moved by what he hears that he wants in! He wants to be part of this movement. And at the sight of water, in the desert, no less, he orders the chariot to stop, and asks, “Why can’t I be baptized?” (Luke 8: 36). Thank God, Philip knew what to do. Thank God the Holy Spirit directs what happens. They go down into the water and Philip baptizes him.
We don’t know what Philip says, but I suspect he told the story of Jesus’ life. I expect he spoke of love, of welcome, of belonging, of mercy, of forgiveness and of hope. What else would compel the man into the water? What else would leave him soaking wet and rejoicing? Fear doesn’t do that. Harsh words of condemnation certainly don’t do that. Judgment and rejection can’t do that.
As I read this part of the story, I am reminded of the words of Isaiah from chapter 35.
Hope for Restoration
Even the wilderness and desert will be glad in those days.
The wasteland will rejoice and blossom with spring crocuses.
Yes, there will be an abundance of flowers
and singing and joy!
The deserts will become as green as the mountains of Lebanon,
as lovely as Mount Carmel or the plain of Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the Lord,
the majesty of our God.]][a]
With this news, strengthen those who have tired hands,
and encourage those who have weak knees.
Say to those with fearful hearts,
“Be strong, and do not fear,
for your God is coming to destroy your enemies.
…coming to save you.”
Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
then the lame shall leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness
and streams in the desert;
The parched ground will become a pool,
and springs of water will satisfy the thirsty land.
Marsh grass and reeds and rushes will flourish
where desert jackals once lived.
A highway shall be there,[c]
and it shall be called the Holy Way;
Evil-minded people will never travel on it.
It will be only for those who walk in God’s ways;
no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray.
Lions will not lurk along its course,
nor any other ferocious beasts.
There will be no other dangers.
Only the redeemed will walk on it.
Those who have been ransomed by the Lord will return.
They will enter Jerusalem[a] singing,
crowned with everlasting joy.
Sorrow and mourning will disappear,
and they will be filled with joy and gladness.
The Holy Spirit
Why does the Spirit take Philip to a deserted road, a part of the region that had been devastated by conflict, a relatively dry region with little water, to a man who has no hopes of generating offspring himself? So that new life can break out, of course! The Spirit finds a way. The Spirit makes a way in the desert. This is another story of the unpredictable. The unexpected. The unlikely choice. That is how the Spirit operates. God, who knows suffering and death, works through weakness, works beyond limits, and works across barriers. God takes what seems lifeless and hopeless and breathes the breath of life into it. Showers it with blessings of living water. Baptized, with water, into the way of Jesus, this Ethiopian leaves rejoicing, leaves transformed. The wilderness road surely takes Philip out of his comfort zone, but he lets the Spirit stretch his capacity for inclusion, and he responds!
Radical Inclusion
What is it in the good news of Jesus that transforms people? In these earliest chapters of Acts, it is radical inclusion–opening the movement beyond the Jewish community in which it started, beyond what the earliest followers of Jesus could have imagined. Fulfilling God’s original call to be a blessing to all the nations (Gen 12:2-3), a light to the nations (Isa 42:6; 49;6).
This story celebrates that no one should be prevented from being welcomed and baptized into the family of God. In our day, some people are still being excluded from churches, or harmed by theology that judges and condemns them, or they carry wounds from a time when they were hurt by people in the church. Some people remain scared of church, or their relationship with the church is tense. I started by talking about an “us and them” story in the world of hockey. But we know that church can be an “us” and “them” story too.
The Black Ethiopian eunuch belonged to a cultural and a sexual minority, valued only for his usefulness to the royalty he served. People in the Queer community are teaching us to interpret this story as one of radical inclusion, especially for people who are discriminated against for their skin colour or their sexual identity.
The In This Together Network connects churches that “have intentionally made a public and explicit statement and culture of welcome” for people who identify as part of the Queer community. Some of these churches celebrate PIE Day or National Affirming Day sometime around March 14 (PIE Day). The PIE acronym calls us to be churches that are Public, Intentional and Explicit in our welcome.
Public as in open, overt and obvious. Intentional as in planned, deliberate and purposeful. And Explicit as in clear, direct and specific.
When we feel rejected, whether it is intentional or not, it cuts to the very core of our being. People in the Queer community have long endured this kind of rejection in the church. For many, church is not a safe space to show up as their true and authentic self. I remember a conversation in the staff room at Rockway many years ago when I was teaching there. One teacher was reflecting on why his young adult children no longer attended church. The reason they gave was clear. They could no longer in good conscience, be part of something that did not openly welcome people of all gender identities. That comment has stuck with me.
Radical inclusion is the message I want people to hear from the church. I think we ought to lead with our hearts on this one. Having safe spaces can be a matter of life and death. Like Philip, can we continue to grow our understanding of what it means to welcome people into the Jesus movement? To recognize who is excluded, who is suffering. Can we continue to grow into a church where people feel seen and heard and understood? Where all people are accepted, welcomed, and loved into the community. When we can appreciate the gifts and strengths of the “other;” when “us” and “them” become “we,” we end up stronger together.
Like with Philip the Spirit calls us, stretches us, encourages us beyond our “us and them” thinking. And like on that desert road to Gaza, the Spirit provides the water in the wilderness for baptism into the way of Jesus.