What is to Prevent Me?

Acts 8:26-40

The Ethiopian eunuch is one of my favorite people in scripture. I know that might sound strange, since he is only mentioned in this one passage, he never meets Jesus in person, and we don’t even know his name. But I love him, and I want to tell you why.

This man, this Ethiopian treasurer of a foreign queen, made a pilgrimage to the Holy City of Jerusalem. Perhaps his Candace sent him on business, or perhaps he went out of his own curiosity or desire to see the magnificence of the Temple for himself. In either case, he has become interested in getting to know the God of Israel. He is so interested in this foreign deity that he purchases a scroll of Isaiah, which would have been copied by hand from the scrolls in the Temple. Most Jews did not own personal scrolls, and some smaller synagogues may have only had a portion of the Hebrew Bible in their collection. This is a very pricey and precious souvenir. And he didn’t just buy it to add it to a stately library or as an offering for his queen. He is so eager to encounter this God that he opens the scroll and begins to read it aloud on the way home to Ethiopia. Clearly, he is a seeker, a God-fearing man, someone with a sense that something is missing, and the answer might just be in this scroll of the prophet. This man is on a pilgrimage, literally on a journey in the wilderness, and he turns to scripture to guide him.

Enter Philip, who gets marching orders from an angel of the Lord to enter the wilderness between Jerusalem and Gaza. He doesn’t know why, or where he will end up, all he knows is that the Lord has called him there. He overhears a voice coming from a chariot, a man reading aloud words that would have been very familiar to Philip. Philip sprints toward the vehicle, spurred by the stirring of the Spirit, and asks breathlessly “Do you understand what you are reading?”

That could have gone over poorly. Philip is a stranger, they’re in the middle of nowhere, and the first words out of his mouth to this foreign official could be construed as questioning the man’s intelligence. I can imagine being a little offended if someone I didn’t know came up to me on the sidewalk while I was reading my Bible and asked me if I understood it. But the Ethiopian man responds with humility, and honesty, and an openness that every one of us would do well to emulate. “How can I understand, unless someone guides me?” How can I comprehend this complicated and ancient text without help? How can I encounter God alone?

The Ethiopian eunuch understands something that our individualistic culture has worked very hard to forget. None of us can understand God on our own. We need one another, we need the wisdom of elders and the inquisitiveness of children and the challenge of each other’s doubts and questions and belief. He has the vulnerability to admit that he does not fully understand, and the humility to ask for guidance from someone further along on the path of faith. He looks to Philip, sensing something of the Spirit in him, and together they form an impromptu Bible study in a chariot on a wilderness road.

And then comes my favorite part, one of my favorite lines in scripture. “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” We don’t know what water he means. It could be a creek, or a pond, or a muddy ditch where water has collected. They’re nowhere near the Jordan, or the sea. They’re certainly not in a church standing in front of a baptismal font. But none of that matters. What matters is there is water, and there is faith, and what is to prevent him from joining the family of God? We know the answer, because Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch go down into this water in the wilderness, and Philip baptizes this man from a foreign land into the body of Christ. This man, who is a sexual minority, a servant of a foreign monarch, a Black man from North Africa, likely a Gentile and in nearly every way an outsider, cannot be prevented. Nothing can separate him from the God who is calling him to new life, and Philip sees no reason to stand in the way.

And then Philip disappears, supernaturally transported away to continue his ministry elsewhere. The newly baptized? He goes on his way rejoicing. With the same exuberance that led him to ask for baptism, this man rejoices in the new life he lives in the Gospel, returning to his homeland where to this day some of the oldest Christian communities worship. There were Christian churches in Ethiopia while Christianity was still illegal in Rome, and the tradition of the church credits the existence of those Christian communities to this man’s divine encounter with a stranger in the wilderness. One interaction between a believer and a seeker, one Bible study, one conversation about the good news of Jesus made that possible. Imagine what can happen when we take the same risks.

Because it was a risk for Philip to run up to a foreign dignitary in the middle of nowhere. It was a risk for the eunuch to acknowledge his need for guidance, and to invite a stranger into his chariot and into his spiritual journey. It was a risk for the eunuch to ask for baptism, because Philip very well could have said no. It was a risk for Philip to baptize him, after all John the Baptizer ended up dead and many of Philip’s friends were being persecuted for their faith during this time. They both had to take risks to get to the rejoicing, and they both trusted that somehow the Spirit was at work.

I love the Ethiopian eunuch because he is willing to admit what he doesn’t know, to ask questions about what he doesn’t understand. I love him because he is open to having his mind changed, and to learning something completely foreign and new. I love that he felt the joy welling up within him and he understood that the only response to that feeling was baptism. I love that when he asked, he did not ask for Philip’s permission. He asked “what is to prevent me?” He asked Philip to give him one good reason why he could not be reborn, and of course there wasn’t one. And when he came up out of the waters of baptism, when the person who introduced him to Christ was spirited away, never to encounter him again, the Ethiopian man rejoiced all the way home.

I love this person, and his story, because I aspire to be just like him. I hope I never stop looking for the Good News in scripture, and that I never allow myself to lean entirely on my own understanding. I hope I have the humility to say “I don’t know” and “Can you teach me?” I pray I will always look for the water in the desert, and trust that by God’s grace it will always be there. I pray I will never stop rejoicing in the new life God has given me. I hope the same for all of you in your lives of faith. Yes, we all ought to take every opportunity we can to be like Philip, to tell others about Jesus and to welcome them into the family of the Church. That’s important too. But I hope you experience the joy of discovery when you read scripture with others, as the Ethiopian experienced with Philip. I hope you keep asking questions, and wondering, and seeking the wisdom of your elders. I hope you go on your way today rejoicing. I know that I will.