Acts 8:26-40

“Coming Alongside”

May 21, 2006

So many sermons could be preached from that scripture and there’s not time to preach them all this morning. But I could, if you want, give you just a hint of what those sermons might be.

One sermon would set this story in its larger context in Acts. Earlier in chapter 8, Philip preaches and converts a group of Samaritans, those sort of half-Jews whom true Jews loved to look down on. Then comes this story of the Ethiopian eunuch, a foreigner, but someone who apparently was a “God-fearer,” a foreigner who worshiped the God of the Jews. And finally, in chapter 10 the Holy Spirit will fall on full-fledged Gentiles and Peter declares that God shows no partiality. The Book of Acts is the story of the Holy Spirit pushing the boundaries out and out and out, until all people are one in Christ and there’s no one left to look down on. But there’s not time for that sermon this morning and, I suppose, you’ve heard me preach that sermon once or twice before!

About ten years ago at annual conference I heard Rudigor Minor, the bishop of Russia preach on this scripture. Bishop Minor focused on verse 35, where in response to the Ethiopian’s question it says that Philip opened his mouth and told him the good news of Jesus Christ. You can silently share God’s love by caring for people, Bishop Minor said, and by all means, do that. You can silently comfort people just by being with them; do that, too. But, he concluded, we cannot share the gospel without opening the mouth. And we cannot do it in the name of Jesus Christ without speaking his name. It’s time for us to open our mouths for Jesus Christ . . . but that is not the sermon I finally settled on this morning.

In keeping with our emphasis for the year—2006 is the Year of Invitation . . .

in keeping with our theme for the scriptures from the Book of Acts—getting the Word out . . .

and in keeping with our church’s mission statement—not only to celebrate but also to share Christ’s love and acceptance of all . . .

this scripture has something to say about a certain way of sharing Christ—that is, coming alongside someone who needs Christ.

Philip has been preaching in Samaria, which is up north of Jerusalem, when an angel tells him to go on the road towards Gaza, which is down south of Jerusalem. So he goes. And there he meets an Ethiopian eunuch, an official of the Queen of Ethiopia, the treasurer of the whole country. He’d come to Jerusalem to, well, to go to church. He was interested in this God of the Jews. Then the Holy Spirit said to Philip, “Go on up.” So Philip went up and heard that the Ethiopian was reading the Bible. (That’s a good sign!) So Philip asks, “Do you get it?” And the Ethiopian replies, “Not so much. I need some help.” And he invited Philip into his chariot, and Philip came alongside him and shared with him the good news of Jesus Christ. Next thing you know, the Ethiopian is asking Philip to baptize him, and Philip finds himself miraculously to the north of Jerusalem again.

As with every scripture, there are some parts of this story that apply to us more directly than others. For example, it doesn’t have to be a high official that you come alongside. You could be thinking, “Well, I just won’t share the gospel because I don’t know anyone that important.” But of course you do know people that important—your neighbor, your kids, your brother or sister. Who says they’re not that important?

And we don’t have to do as much traveling as Philip in order to share the gospel—certainly miraculous transportation isn’t necessary. If an angel tells you to go somewhere, by all means go. Otherwise, how about your neighbor, your kids, your brother or sister?

But there are some parts of this story that are right on for us, or for anyone, seeking courage to invite others to Christ.

§ First of all, this story says: do listen to the angel in the back of your mind, the Holy Spirit’s promptings in your soul. If you’ve been thinking to yourself for weeks, “I’d really like to invite this person to church . . . I really ought to let so and so know I’m praying for her . . . I wonder if those kids two doors down would come to Sunday school if I’d pick them up.” If you’re having feelings like that, it could be an angel, could be the Holy Spirit. The Bible says an angel told Philip what to do. And I believe that. But at the moment I’ll bet it felt more like this for Philip—for some reason I feel like going down towards Gaza today. I guess I’ll do that. And that guy over there—looks like he’s reading the Bible. Wonder if he needs some help? . . . No, that’s silly—leave the guy alone. But what does it hurt to ask? All right, I’ll go up and talk to him about Jesus. The Bible has a name for that inner conversation: the Holy Spirit.

§ This story says: don’t come alongside just anyone to share about Jesus Christ; come alongside a likely candidate. You remember what Anne Lamott says about forgiveness—when you’re just getting started learning to forgive, let’s not start with Hitler and the Nazis, okay? The same is true of coming alongside someone to share Jesus Christ. Let’s not start with the angry atheist or your uncle who told you never to talk to him about church again or he’d punch your lights out. Philip started with someone who was already reading the Bible. Well, you might say, that’s like cheating. No, no—that’s smart! Find someone who’s already interested, come alongside them, and help them home.

§ And finally, the story reminds us what those of us who are in church all the time sometimes forget: people have lots of questions—questions about God, questions about the Bible, questions about why we do certain things in church. The Christian faith and the church are like a foreign country to people. They’re hesitant, uneasy. Coming alongside someone isn’t necessarily to have all the answers. The point is to be with them on the journey, and simply share with them how Jesus Christ has been good news for you. Climb up in the chariot of someone searching for faith, and they won’t long remember the answers you give, but they’ll never forget that you came alongside them when they needed you most.

I want you to think for a moment now—who came alongside you when you were searching for faith? Who came alongside you?

I could name so many. First and foremost, for me it would be my parents. They took me to Sunday school and church, they taught me to pray, they forgave me, they showed me that life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.

There was Joanne Hickey, who sensed my loneliness during college and was my friend. She prayed with her eyes wide open and believed things new and strange to me at the time—that God accepts all people regardless of who and how they love.

And during seminary there was one professor, John Hayes. It seemed to me that a lot of seminary professors were so sophisticated in their thinking that they almost thought themselves out of their faith. Now John could think with the best of them, but part of him remained a sharecropper’s boy from Alabama with a simple and heart-felt love for Jesus. Despite a gruff exterior, John let me in on that secret, and one time he got a tear in his eye and he called me “Son.” John came alongside me and showed me that I could think and have faith, too.

Who has come alongside you? I asked that question at Leadership Council a week ago. People shared about their own parents, about Sunday school teachers, about grandparents and other relatives, about Disciple Bible Study leaders—important people in our faith journeys.

And now the last, and perhaps the most important question: who will you come alongside? Who will you sit down next to and hear their questions and share how Jesus matters to you? Who will you come alongside?

Yeah, don’t feel bad—Leadership Council struggled with this, too. Despite it being the Year of Invitation, and despite our mission to share Christ’s love and acceptance of all, it’s still kind of new to us to be thinking of who we can come alongside and encourage in the faith. There were some encouraging responses, though. Andy Alderman immediately pointed to his son Owen, and said, “I intend to be alongside this little one.” Paul and Kathy both spoke of their grandchildren. Amen to that. The church—and the United Methodist Church in particular—has lost most of a generation of young people. We can’t do that again. Come alongside your children and grandchildren, come alongside your nieces and nephews, come alongside your neighbor’s children, and share with them the good news of Jesus Christ.

You’ll think of your own opportunities. But let me share two in particular. I don’t know how Pastor Patty will organize Confirmation classes at Maynard. But usually it involves Confirmation mentors. What an opportunity to come alongside a young person and share with them the good news of Jesus Christ.

And pretty soon, Becky Paavola will partner church members with new families in the Summer Youth Program. Just basic hospitality—glad your kids are coming, is there anything I can do to help, Sunday school for kids starts at 9:30, I wondered if you’d be interested in helping serve breakfast to homeless friends down at New Life? Just come alongside people who already trust us with their children.

I picture the Ethiopian eunuch, at a meeting at his own church, years later, and the pastor asks, “So, who came alongside you when you were searching for faith?” And he will say, “Well, there was this guy named Philip. I was reading the Bible in my chariot when he came up and asked me if I understood it. Well, of course I didn’t, not without help. So he climbed in a spent some time with me and the rest is history. Who came alongside me? Philip!

And some day, in some church or other, a pastor will ask that question, “Who came alongside you?” And what I want to know is this: Who will give your name? Who will give your name?