The Ethiopian Eunuch

In the Greek pantheon, the god Hermes was the patron of thieves, merchants, and travellers, of heralds and messengers. Hermes was the messenger of the Gods. Indeed, in the Acts of the Apostles, the apostles Barnabas and Paul arrive on one of their missionary expeditions in the city of Lystra in Asia Minor, Barnabas is hailed as ‘Zeus’ and Paul is called ‘Hermes’ because he was the chief speaker.

Hermes’ role was to explain to humans the decisions and plans of their Gods. Thus he bridged the gap between the divine and human realms. But he was also the source of rather dubious oracles, and characterized as a bit of a trickster and the source of some confusion. It is his name which gives expression to the art or theory of interpretation, ‘hermeneutics’. And I suppose his association with the art of theory of interpretation attempts to demonstrate that sometimes texts or events proclaim an evident, almost transparent, sense, like a herald. At other times, they require a little cunning, some imagination, even considerable skill, to give some kind of sense or meaning.

It is perhaps no accident that our first reading today begins with a conversation about interpretation. An Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Queen of the Ethiopians, is travelling in his chariot from Jerusalem back to Ethiopia. He is reading a passage from the prophecy of Isaiah and he is perplexed. Philip is compelled by the Holy Spirit to reach out to them – ‘Do you understand what you are reading?’ he asks. A conversation ensues and I love this aspect of the Acts of the Apostles. The conversation proceeds with a series of questions, reminding us that the best theology is in the interrogative mood as we bring our questions to scripture. Philip offers his testimony, and the Ethiopian eunuch asks if he can be baptized.

This is a remarkable story in which a non-binary person, who also happens to be a person of colour, comes to faith and is baptized. There is no ambiguity about this – no attempt to conceal their identity. And St Luke, who wrote the Acts of the Apostles, is absolutely clear that the Holy Spirit compels Philip to share the gospel with them. As Willie James Jennings, our Bampton Lecturer last year, puts it eloquently in his commentary on Acts, this encounter on the road to Gaza is ‘a borderland moment where people of profound difference enter a new possibility of life together in a shared intimate space and a new shared identity.’

The difference of the Ethiopian eunuch is, and I quote, ‘marked by his origin in Ethiopia, the outer limits of the known world, and is even signified by his blackness. His difference is also marked by his sexuality, neither unambiguously male nor female.’ And the Holy Spirit compels Philip to share the good news of Christ’s resurrection, to speak of the new life, the abundant life, which we receive through the gift of baptism.

‘What prevents me from being baptized?’ asks the Ethiopian eunuch. Nothing at all. Philip offers the sacrament of baptism, and the Ethiopian eunuch is filled with joy. There is freedom in this joy. As Jennings puts it: ‘disciples must know their freedom in Jesus Christ. The church has often been too impatient and sometimes downright fearful of that freedom, choosing instead to quickly impose an image of the true, the good and the beautiful example on those who have been made free by the Spirit. God would have none of this for the Ethiopian. There will be no correct or proper image of a disciple, no bodily model by which to pattern himself, and no one to begin a process of erasure or eradication of his differences. Philip will not be allowed to stay to tell him who to be or how to be, how to see himself or receive a preloaded life script’. So Philip is promptly and conveniently despatched to the city of Azotus not far from Gaza. The Ethiopian eunuch is transformed by the Holy Spirit and is free to go on his way rejoicing.

What is remarkable about this story is that it enunciates clearly and exuberantly the freedom which God offers to us through the new life of the resurrection. Faith in Jesus Christ draws us to a new way of life, a shared life that disrupts old patterns of living and old tribal loyalties. Too often Christians are unable to see the boundary-crossing reality of God’s love. And yet so often we inherit patterns of scriptural interpretation which reinforce differences, using the Bible to clobber others rather than setting them free.

It’s a reminder to us to take care when we interpret these texts. Sometimes, that old idol Hermes can get up to some extremely unpleasant tricks, separating and dividing people. We only have to think of the ways in which members of Parliament have recently berated the Church of England for welcoming refugees and asylum seekers. Or the way in which members of our own Church continue to resist the full inclusion of those who identify as LGBTQ+ to recognize the ways in which people exploit and reinforce differences in their reading of scripture, either in a bid to preserve their power, or to exclude the marginalized and the people whose faces don’t quite fit.

But this passage in Acts reminds us, that when we interpret the scriptures, we must seek to be guided by the Holy Spirit. And if the reading from Acts teaches us anything today, as we acknowledge the activity of the Holy Spirit in compelling Philip to rejoice in the face of difference, we learn that the Holy Spirit will not be contained by cultural, familial, or tribal allegiances. And that’s something that becomes abundantly clear as the Easter season culminates in the Feast of Pentecost. Everyone hears the gospel in their own language, in other words, in a way which is sensitive to and rejoices in difference.

When we say that we believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic church, we are saying unambiguously that God’s offer of salvation is universal. It is for everyone. Through the Holy Spirit, God breaks down the barriers that exist between us. For when we encounter difference, as Willie Jennings says, ‘God’s love presses us beyond quiet toleration and toward extravagant appreciation of our creatureliness woven in difference and destined for communion with the divine life.’ (Jennings, Acts p90).

And this is what we learn from the gospel reading today. ‘I am the vine, you are the branches.’ Jesus invites us to abide in him as he abides in us. And that invitation extends to every single one of us. No one is excluded. Everyone is invited. We can refuse that invitation, but we cannot tell others that they are not invited. We are invited to participate in the life of Christ, we are drawn into ever closer communion with him, we are invited to share in this feast as honoured guests at his table. This is our borderland moment, where heaven and earth meet, where people of profound difference enter a new possibility of life together, a shared space, a new shared identity - in Jesus Christ.

This is the promise and transformation of new life. This is the hope, which lies at the heart of the good news of the resurrection. And the scriptures which we read today invite us to enlarge and expand our hearts to understand just a little bit more of the breadth and depth and height of God’s love for us.