Trust and Disciple-Making (April 28)

Readings, Acts 8:26-40 and 1 John 4:7-21
 Image, Phil Simon, Acrobats
 
Many will know well the contours of the narrative from Acts – the Spirit’s prompting, the uninterpreted scroll, the impromptu baptism – and each well serve the content of a sermon. However, I want to eschew those details and focus instead on what precedes this story, for this, I suggest, makes Philip’s boldness and care all the more moving.
 
When I last preached from Acts, three Sundays ago, everything was roses. The disciples met each day in Jerusalem to proclaim the good news, redistributing their wealth to ensure no one had any need. Since then, the disciples initiated the office of deacon to ensure that no one would slip through the cracks. Rosy days still. However, as quickly as this community is established a day of severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria.
 
Philip is one of those scattered. Cut off from the geographical and ecclesial centre of the church; the encouragement and support of the other apostles and disciples. Undeterred, Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them. One of the men who hear this proclamation was Simon (the former magician) who believed the good news and stayed constantly with Philip.
 
Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to them. This must be a moment of some excitement and encouragement for Philip. Peter and John, who (along with James) have formed the inner circle of the new movement’s authority begin to lay hands on people, who receive the Holy Spirit. On seeing this, Simon (the former magician) approaches Peter and John offering to pay them for the power to bestow this remarkable spirit.
 
If you’ve ever had to vouch for someone’s good character or reliability before, or sponsored someone for membership in an organisation, you can imagine the embarrassment of this moment. Even if you’ve just brought a friend to a party only to overhear them saying something uncouth you can begin to feel what Philip might have felt in his skin. We imagine Philip would have introduced Simon with glowing praise – after all he had stayed constantly by Philip’s side – only to have Simon offensively miss the point right in front of the head honchos. It’s a real confidence blow to Philip’s career as disciple-maker. Could he be so inadequate at proclaiming the good news and interpreting the scriptures that one who was constantly at his side would think it appropriate to ask to buy the power of the Holy Spirit? Perhaps he is not ready to be out on his own, perhaps he should leave this to the “special ones” – the Johns and Peters of the movement…
 
Though if he has any doubts about his capacity or purpose, he does not let them triumph. For when an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Get up”… he got up and went. Philip meets the Ethiopian eunuch, approaches his chariot, interprets the scriptures, and proclaims the good news. Then the Ethiopian says to Philip, Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptised? What indeed! Well, Philip might have concerns: what if this man turns out to be like Simon? Should Philip wait for the authorities of Jerusalem to vet this candidate? Yet Philip agrees, nothing ought prevent the baptism and the two go down to the waters.
 
Despite any doubts Philip might be harbouring about his capacity as a disciple-maker, his clarity as one who proclaims good news, his insight as one who interprets the scriptures, or his shortcomings compared to Peter and John, none of this prevents the baptism. For Philip is a disciple of the risen Lord, he has received the great commission along with all the others. Philip abides in Christ and Christ abides in him, a branch of the true vine, called to love others so that God’s love might be perfected in him to the bearing of much good fruit.
 
Philip’s zeal for the Lord, his passion for proclaiming the good news, even his love for his fellow, none of this can control the future or snuff out the chances of being misinterpreted, misunderstood, or mystified at the choices of others. He knows not what will come from this newly baptised Christian (a point emphasised by his immediate snatching away by the Spirit of God). But he trusts that those who abide in Christ will bear much fruit. He trusts that perfect love casts out fear. He trusts that even if we haven’t seen God (and thus cannot know all of God’s will and plans) if we love one another God lives in us and God’s love is perfected in us. And so Philip proclaims good news, loves his neighbour, and then turns the future over to God, who prunes the fruit-bearing branch so that it might bear more fruit.
 
I proposed at the beginning that what precedes this story makes Philip’s boldness and care more moving. Exactly how, depends on our own story. Perhaps we are moved to thanks for those who shaped our faith – those who told us the good news, helped us interpret the scriptures, and led us to the waters of baptism. Who did so amidst their own doubts and insecurities about being ready to answer every question and exegete every detail. Perhaps it emboldens us in our own calling to disciple-making, commission to love, and responsiveness to the prompting of the Spirit. An encouragement not to let our concerns triumph, nor our limitations curtail but rather to trust that the abiding presence of Christ bears fruit on even the humblest of branches. Or, finally, perhaps we are once again moved by the God who is love, who tells us to have no fear of judgment or punishment, but to live bold lives of love in the sure and certain hope that however far we are scattered from the centres of security and familiarity, nothing can separate us from the abiding love of Christ, who goes with and before us as we make disciples on the way.