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Does it Really Matter
Sermon by Catherine W. FitzGerald May 21, 2006, Presbyterian Church of Chestnut Hill Acts 8:26-40 There comes a time in the lives of most modern-day Presbyterian confirmands when they are hit with a dramatic truth which changes their whole way of thinking, forever altering their conception of life as a confirmand. This illuminating experience normally occurs during the lesson on sacraments, when they discover that as Presbyterians, we celebrate only two sacraments. “What about weddings?,” they ask. “No,” I answer. “Funerals? Ordinations?” “No. No.” And then it hits them…. “Confirmation?” “Confirmation is not a sacrament,” I reply. There is silence. I wait for their predictable response. Finally, they ask: “Then why are we here? Does it make a difference?” I smile, knowing that this is the very question I hope they will be working to answer themselves throughout the confirmation process and beyond. Admittedly, I felt a great deal of pressure—because I do believe “it” makes a difference—this exploration of faith that occurs both in and out of confirmation class—I believe it matters very much. My own insecurity and self-involvement made me feel as if the weight of their decision to proceed in the church rested on my shoulders alone. Thank God that is untrue. I am grateful for God’s forgiveness of such vanity and for the gift of faith which the confirmands brought with them from the start. At the end of the day, at the end of our time together, it matters comparatively little what I believe, and very much what the confirmands believe. It remains my prayer that they have taken their own question seriously, doing what German poet Rainer Maria Rilke called “living into the answers,” so that they may confidently stand before you today professing their faith. I have been blessed to guide them on this short part of their journey and I invite you all to listen in as I give my final lesson, while I still have a captive audience. The story from Acts begins with a calling. The Spirit of God instructs Philip to travel down an unknown desert road which will lead him to an unknown man. Our confirmation story also began with a calling. My dear confirmands, just as the Spirit guided Philip, perhaps we can consider that our experience together was a result of God’s whispering in our ears. Granted, for you as it was for me many years ago, God’s voice may have sounded distinctly like a nagging parent, it was nonetheless the gift of God that brought us together. I was drawn to this passage from Acts because of its strong conversion story—one that encompasses so many of the basic tenets of Christian theology. In it, Philip does not decide where he will go and what he will do—the spirit of God gives him these directions. It is God who acts first…she is the catalyst, setting the story in motion. Before Philip acts, God chooses him, guides him. I want you to understand this: God chooses us first. This is grace in its best sense—that through no act of our own, God chooses us. It is essential to the story—to our story—that God acts first. We do not “find Jesus” as the popular conservative Christian terminology would have us believe. He finds us and claims us as his own. On this particular occasion, the Spirit moved Philip to go down an unknown road in the wilderness. Philip didn’t even know exactly why or where he was going. He was instructed to go down an unknown path, and he took it. But perhaps the path for Philip was not entirely unknown—he knew it was the path laid out for him by God. Now, part of our job as hearers of scripture is to discern the meaning of such texts as they are relevant to our lives. The idea of God speaking to you today may seem strange—but I assure you, as our brothers and sisters in the United Church of Christ proclaim—God is still speaking! But how do we know what claim God has made upon our lives? How can we be certain, as was Philip, of the path to follow? Dietrich Bonhoeffer wondered the same question—where and how to do we hear the call of Jesus to discipleship today? “To the question,” he writes, “…there is no other answer than this: Hear the Word, receive the sacrament; in it hear [Jesus] himself; and you will hear his call.” In hearing the Word and receiving the sacraments, we experience the living Christ, just as the disciples did. Bonhoeffer explained that even when Christ was alive, the disciples knew his divinity because of what they heard and experienced—and in most cases, we are hearing and experiencing those same things today. Just as the disciples and just as Bonhoeffer understood it, Philip and the Ethiopian share in a divine encounter when they read scripture and participate in the sacrament of baptism. This will also be how we experience God as revealed in Jesus Christ, beginning with the Word as found in scripture. Bonhoeffer writes: “Christ speaks to us exactly as he spoke [to the disciples]. It was not as though they first recognized him as the Christ and then received his command. They believed his word and command and recognized him as the Christ—in that order. There was no other way for them to know Christ, but by his plain word.” God is still speaking to us through these texts, and through the church. This point becomes quite clear as we read about the Ethiopian court official who sits in his chariot reading from Isaiah. In Luke’s world, “Ethiopian” referred to anyone with dark skin, particularly to people from areas south of Egypt. Such a man was considered exotic by many, as accounted for in writings that come from that period. Although the text tells us that Philip merely followed the Spirit’s direction, it is likely that he was not too thrilled about his assignment. He was instructed to go down a desert road at the hottest point of the day. Up until that point, he had been successfully proclaiming God’s Word in the city of Samaria and was now told to go down a deserted path…a not too exciting follow up to his successful efforts in Samaria. It was probably disappointing. And then he was lead to a man completely foreign to him, which might not have been his top choice if he had been one. All this is to say that in reaching out to the Ethiopian, a total foreigner, we see that God has extended his kingdom far beyond what was originally imagined, proving once again that God’s imagination is infinitely grander than our own…that those who seem foreign to us are not foreign to God. This is an important concept to grasp—no one is outside of God’s love. I repeat: no one is outside of God’s love. It is often difficult for us to act on this knowledge—to respond to God’s love with true love of our neighbor. Many of our neighbors are odd, too different from ourselves, or just plain awful. But, as modern-day prophet William Sloane Coffin wrote: “It’s always a good time to change your mind when to do so will widen your heart.” Philip and the Ethiopian were perhaps both moved to widen their hearts on that day. As Christians, as members of the body of Christ, we must always seek the widening of our hearts. God is still speaking: Widen your hearts! Though the text doesn’t say as much, I imagine that through scripture, God was silently whispering in the Ethiopian’s ear as well. While he sits there, reading of the suffering servant, Philip approaches him, asking: “Do you understand what you are reading?” The Ethiopian replies, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” The initial dialogue may seem trivial—a mere bridge into the section which identifies Jesus as Isaiah’s suffering servant, but it is one of the most significant parts of the story, for two reasons. First of all, the ability to question signifies a certain freedom. You were wonderful about asking questions this year—don’t stop. Always ask questions. Many times the act of questioning is more important than the answers themselves. Many times there are no concrete answers. The ability to question is itself an act of freedom. In questioning, we engage the faith with passion, rather than accepting or rejecting it without thought. As one of my favorite Christian authors Frederick Buechner writes: “Faith is better understood as a verb than as a noun, as a process than as a possession. It is on-again-off-again rather than once-and-for-all. Faith is not being sure where you’re going, but going anyway. A journey without maps. Tillich said that doubt isn’t the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.” Turn your doubts into questions, and ask away. The second reason this introductory dialogue and that which follows are significant is because they show that we cannot read scripture in isolation. We need teachers. How can we understand unless somebody guides us? In their encounter, Philip and the Ethiopian experience the living Christ when they engage scripture and one another. As Biblical scholar Thomas Mirosica writes, “The gospel that Philip preached to the Ethiopian court official is not ‘about Jesus’ but rather ‘he preached to him Jesus,’ which might mean that in Philip’s preaching, Jesus himself is conveyed to the Ethiopian. Through Philip, Jesus is made present and known to the court official. In other words, in the church Jesus is present, and in the church’s ministry lies the extension of Jesus’ ministry in Luke-Acts.” Philip in many ways represents the church and its ministry in this story. You all have had many Philips in your lives already—people that have brought you up in the faith. I was blessed with my Philip opportunity this year. Wonderful confirmands, I leave you with a question posed by William Sloane Coffin to his young correspondent in Letters to a Young Doubter: “Who tells you who you are?” We develop ideas about who we are from all sorts of places—our parents, our friends, the television, the news, but what would it be like to have God tell you who you are? The Ethiopian found his answer to that question as he sat in his chariot that fateful day. Upon hearing the Word of God through scripture and Philip, he immediately desired baptism—he yearned for the living water that is Jesus Christ. He was converted and became Christ’s follower. From then on, he would be defined by his faith. Today, as you affirm your belief in Jesus Christ, as you reaffirm your baptisms, I hope you experience something of the Ethiopian’s conversion. I hope you take with you the question: what would it look like to have my life defined by God? I hope you understand that your being here makes a big difference—both for you and for all of us—we are better for having you in our lives and in our church. I hope your hearts continue to widen. I pray that you experience the living Christ; that you hear God whispering in your ear, saying, “Welcome to the life of the church!” And welcome you are. Amen. |