“What is to prevent me being baptized?”

All Saints’, Dorval

Easter VI, Year B

May 9, 2021

The Ethiopian Eunuch figure from the felt board we use for Messy Church

If you were here last week, you know that it was one of those “embarrasse de richesse” weeks in the lectionary. The Gospel was the beloved passage about the Vine and the Branches; the Epistle was another portion of the first letter of John, continuing its detailed journey through the concept of God’s love; and the first reading, from Acts, was the dramatic story of the apostle Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch on the road to Gaza. Any one of those passages would be worthy of an entire series of sermons!

Last week I focused on the Gospel, “I am the vine, you are the branches,” but I promised that this week we would return to Acts and to the Ethiopian eunuch. A brief recap: in the eighth chapter of Acts, we meet this man, who is an important official in the court of the Ethiopian queen but whose name we never learn. He is in his chariot reading a scroll of the prophet Isaiah when Philip, prompted by the Holy Spirit, runs up to the chariot. The eunuch asks Philip to help him interpret the passage, and as a result of their conversation, asks to be baptized. Philip dunks him in the nearest body of water, and after this, the Spirit snatches Philip away to Azotus, up the coast from Gaza, while the eunuch goes on his way rejoicing.

Today’s reading from Acts, which comes from the end of the tenth chapter, contains many of the same themes. It is the culmination of a long and detailed story in which Cornelius, a Roman centurion, and Peter the apostle have had simultaneous visions. As a result, Peter travels to Cornelius’ house and preaches the Gospel of Jesus to him and his household, and the Holy Spirit comes upon them and they speak in tongues and praise God.

The stories echo each other in terms of the action of the Holy Spirit; the role of baptism; and the fact that both Cornelius the centurion and the Ethiopian eunuch are high-ranking figures in the Gentile world whose lives are upended by their encounter with the good news of Jesus.

And both stories are part of a very clear movement in the first part of the Acts of the Apostles, in which the message of Jesus and the resurrection from the dead spreads from the circle of people who knew Jesus during his ministry, to the Jewish community at large, and then beyond, to the non-Jewish world. This movement is guided and accompanied by the manifestation of the Spirit, in prayers, tongues, and miracles. And baptism is the means by which people who have received the message with joy are then incorporated into the growing community of believers.

Discussion of these passages among contemporary Christians tends to follow a predictable trajectory. We marvel at the energy and commitment of the early disciples, and then we take sides about whether our present-day baptismal practice should look more or less like that of Philip baptizing the eunuch and Peter baptizing the household of Cornelius.

There are good arguments on both sides: on the one hand, who are we to restrict the infinite grace of God and the boundary-breaking movement of the Holy Spirit? On the other hand, surely it is important that people being baptized should understand what it means to be reborn in Jesus, realize the commitment they are making, and be ready for their lives to change as a result?

Our context today is very different from that of the Apostles.  Between them and us lie sixteen hundred years of established Christianity, during which baptism was less about stepping out of one’s existing life into something new and radical, and more about being initiated at birth into the dominant culture. And the kind of insta-baptisms depicted in Acts were not normative for long: in the three centuries or so between the Apostles’ ministry and the legalization of Christianity under Constantine, the practice of the early church was very much about a lengthy and intensive process of catechesis, preparation for baptism, to make sure that initiates into an illegal and persecuted cult knew what they were getting into, from possibly having to change their jobs, relationships, and habits, through loss of wealth and social position, right up to danger, bodily harm and possible death.

And yet, our context today is in some ways closer to that of the Apostles than it has been in the intervening millennium and a half. Not only are practicing, committed Christians a minority, but the larger culture no longer even pretends to support or encourage a life of faith. Our culture is diverse, pluralist, and vibrant, and our religious path is no longer the default, but is taking its place alongside many other options, including the option of “none at all”.

And so perhaps there is a way to thread the needle between “baptize ‘em all and let God sort it out!” and “demand months and years of intense commitment before offering admission to the sacrament.”

In addition to preaching far and wide, inviting the action of the Spirit and baptizing those who requested it, the Apostles also paid attention to the nourishing and flourishing of the community as it grew. Acts describes the disciples being together and holding all things in common, and making arrangements to ensure that neither the preaching of the Word nor the practical tasks of life in community would be neglected. Anyone who was baptized into this growing and evolving movement would immediately be presented with a community of believers whose lives were distinctly and noticeably different from those of anyone they had met before, and who were eager to share their experiences and teach the new converts to imitate them and be part of this community life.

What if our community, our congregation, was so clearly joyful, and flourishing, and making a difference in the lives of people both inside and outside it, that anyone who came in contact with it perceived that? What if we all learned, and encouraged each other, to speak clearly and compellingly about what God has done in our lives? What if we had such faith in the health and identity of this community – not to mention the working of the Holy Spirit – that we felt we could genuinely invite people to be baptized on no notice, and not feel that we were doing something false and dangerous thereby?

Two years ago, we discerned a mission that we summarized as “Reconciling, Affirming, Rejoicing”. That seems like a good place to start, and not a bad summary of the ministry of the early church – reconciling humanity with God; affirming the goodness and belovedness of all people, Gentiles as well as Jews; and rejoicing in the spectacular, world-changing news of Jesus’ resurrection and victory over death.

The Book of Alternative Services, in the preface to the baptism service, flatly states, “The bond which God establishes in baptism is indissoluble.” Baptism is not something that can be rejected or undone. The BAS also outlines the Baptismal Covenant, a series of promises that we collectively make at baptisms, and which are the foundation of much of our pre-baptismal preparation and our post-baptismal Christian formation.

A valid baptism is a valid baptism, and we trust the Holy Spirit to work in the lives of those who are brought into Christ’s family through the water of new life. But we also yearn to witness the fruit of the Spirit in our fellow Christians in community, and the best way to work toward that goal is to cultivate the Spirit’s presence in our own lives, and learn to share it in word and deed.

Nothing more is said in Scripture about either Cornelius the Centurion, or the Ethiopian eunuch. Cornelius is venerated as a saint in all the various strains of liturgical Christianity, and there is a tradition that he became a bishop. The eunuch, not surprisingly, is the subject of a robust postbiblical tradition in the Ethiopian church, which holds that his name was Simon and that he was responsible for the evangelization of Africa south from Egypt (which did, of course, happen, resulting in a church that has flourished uninterrupted until the present day).

Would the witness of their baptisms mean more if we knew for certain that they had gone on to lead lives of vibrant Christian ministry? Perhaps. Does this make those baptisms any less valid as the work of the Holy Spirit? No.

The last glimpse we get of the eunuch in Scripture is when Luke says, “he went on his way rejoicing.” I like to think that this tiny detail is evidence that he did stay in touch with the apostles as he lived into his new baptized life – because by that point Philip had already been snatched up and deposited elsewhere, and so who else would be able to witness to the eunuch’s state of mind, other than himself?

But the most important word in that sentence is the last one – “rejoicing”. Then and now, we are called to rejoice, in the news of Jesus’ resurrection, in the power of the Holy Spirit, in the sacrament of baptism, and in the fruit it bears in our lives.

Amen.