When God Breaks the Rules—June 9, 2017
“Then an angel of the Lord said to
Philip, ‘Get up and go toward the south to the road that goes down from
Jerusalem to Gaza.’ (This is a wilderness road.) So he got up and went. Now there
was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, queen of the
Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to Jerusalem to
worship and was returning home; seated in his chariot, he was reading the
prophet Isaiah. Then the Spirit said to Philip, ‘Go over to this chariot and
join it.’ So Philip ran up to it and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah….
Then Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture, he proclaimed to
him the good news about Jesus. As they were going along the road, they came to some
water; and the eunuch said, ‘Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from
being baptized?’” [Acts 8:26-30a, 35-36]
Sometimes
the Spirit breaks the rules.
Yep,
God’s Spirit. The Holy-with-a-capital-H
one. The Spirit of the Lord—inspirer of
Scriptures, guide and Advocate of the saints of God, fully divine Third Person
of the Trinity. That Spirit… breaks the
rules.
And,
which is more, the same Spirit sometimes goads us to break the rules, too.
Now,
at one level, this will not surprise us since the Holy Spirit is also spoken of
in the Scriptures as the Spirit of Christ, and my goodness me, Jesus was
breaking rules left and right in the Gospels, what with eating at the table of
tax collectors, going to parties with sinners and prostitutes, healing on the
sabbath, and not stoning the adulterers brought to his feet. Jesus made a reputation out of not
following all the rules. And he made a point out of teaching his followers to
copy him in his table fellowship, sabbath philosophy, and refusal to stone
people.
But
still, it’s kind of surprising to consider that the Spirit has a way of
breaking the rules, especially when they were God’s own rules, and then pushing
the Jesus-community to do the same.
This
story is a case in point.
Here’s
a moment from the first generation of the church that is probably a lot more
scandalous than it seems at first. The
question the eunuch asks of Philip is a pregnant one: “What is to prevent me from being baptized?”
Well,
frankly, there was a lot. Philip could
have gotten out the old rule book and come up with a long list of reasons why
this fellow was unacceptable. First off,
this guy wasn’t Jewish. And while it is
true that eventually the Christian community came to a decision (see Acts 15)
that Gentile (non-Jewish) people were welcome in the church AS Gentiles (that
is, males didn’t have to be circumcised, and they didn’t have to keep kosher,
etc.), if Philip had been simply sticking to “official black-and-white church
policy” in the Constitution of the First Church of Jerusalem, circa AD 35,
Philip didn’t have the right simply to decree on his own that this anonymous
traveler was acceptable… because he wasn’t Jewish.
A
rule-following Philip would have had to say something like, “Oh, gosh, friend,
I really would like to tell you that you are acceptable as you are, but
technically I do not have that authority. Could you wait seven chapters until
we have an official pronouncement and a change in the by-laws before I am authorized to say the love of Jesus is for you, too?”
On
top of that, this guy wasn’t even headed in the right direction. Maybe, MAYBE, if he were going toward Jerusalem,
where Philip could have gotten him to sign up for some theology classes or
gotten him to learn his catechism, maybe he could have made the case for baptizing
the Ethiopian traveler with the condition that he complete his religious
education beyond one chariot ride’s worth of Bible study.
A
rule-following Philip would have had to say something like, “Golly, I hate to
be a stickler here, but you really need to agree to becoming a member of a congregation
before I can baptize you—it’s just not right if I can't vouch that you'll become a card-carrying member of one of our franchise establishments."
And then... there is perhaps the thorniest issue with this fellow: he is a eunuch. That, as you perhaps might be aware, was a dealbreaker in the Mosaic Law, in terms of belonging to the "assembly of the Lord" (see Deuteronomy 23:1 on that one in case you doubt me). The thrust of the original commandment seemed to be that no one who was physically without the ability to reproduce was acceptable among the people of God. It was not only a violation of the recurring emphasis on "being fruitful and multiplying" in the Torah, but also a deviation from what was perceived as "normal" and "natural," and thus was suspect. And, unlike, say, the Ethiopian's direction of journey (which could be changed if he turned around and headed back to Jerusalem) or his religious identity as non-Jewish (which could have been at least subject to proselyte conversion to Judaism if he had been required to), being a eunuch was a permanent--and quite likely unchosen--condition. That is to say, if you are headed in the wrong direction, you can make a U-turn, and if someone tells you that you have to convert to their religion to be accepted, you can make that choice. But this man is what he is--he is a eunuch, and he can't not be. It is a pre-existing condition, so to speak. And as far as the strict (and clear) commandment of the Torah goes, he is, because he does not fit the picture of child-rearing married head-of-household, unacceptable. There's no other way around what the rules said.
A rule-following Philip would have been obligated to say, "I'm sorry, fella, but you can't have kids and you are, not to put too fine a point on it, damaged goods, and the Law of God says very clearly that you are to be excluded." A rule-bound Philip would have had to say that God's holiness cannot tolerate the presence of any impurity or imperfection or deviation, and since you can't repent or sacrifice your way out of a pre-existing condition, even though it is something you were either born with or had done to you by someone in the royal court of the Queen.
Suffice it to say that there were several pretty significant reasons that "the rules" gave a loud and clear answer why this man in the chariot was not to be allowed to be baptized into Christ. The rules said so. God's own rules, mind you.
But what does Luke record here in Acts? "The Spirit said to Philip, 'Go and talk to this man...'" Do you see? The Spirit--the Holy Spirit! the divine Third Person of the Trinity!--is the one who instigates this! This is not the tale of an over-eager, under-disciplined disciple overstepping his own theology by coming up with his own idea to baptize the stranger in the chariot, who then had to walk back all of his talk of "welcome" and "grace" when the higher-ups found out what he had done. This is the story of God--none other and no less than God--by the Holy Spirit directing Philip to go up and lead this man from Ethiopia to belong to the community of Jesus (although, in fairness, Jesus himself didn't fit the expected mold of the ideal Israelite, either, as someone who didn't fit the married-with-children head-of-household picture, either).
There's no other way to describe it, but that the Holy Spirit is in fact the One who pushes the envelope here. It is the Holy Spirit who clearly leads Philip to take the steps to speak, share the Gospel, and baptize this non-Jewish, departing foreigner who was existentially incapable of being a "married-with-children head-of-household", even though there were rules that would have excluded him if they had been enforced. It's funny, isn't it, how sometimes we equate what is "the law" with what is "God's will," when this very story, inspired by the same troublemaking Holy Spirit who spoke to Philip in the narrative itself, is all about God's own choice NOT to enforce the law of God's people... and to include this "unacceptable" one all the same.
Now, if you are following this train of thought so far, this story will do at least two things to you. For one, it will make your faith unavoidably messier. After all, there's no way around it but to say that God takes one (or more) of God's own rules, and God then pushes Philip to break the rule by deliberately including someone that the rules said was unacceptable. We might wish for a theology that is so starkly black-and-white as to decree who's in and who's out with perfect clarity, but the Bible itself does not give us such an idolatrous theology--only the messy faith of a God who reserves the right to break rules that previously carried divine authority.
And now second, this story will open us up to holy surprise. If the Spirit can whisper to Philip on an ordinary day, "Go to the back country road off ramp and give Christ's welcome to someone the Law says is not allowed into the club," then you and I should be prepared for the possibility that the same Spirit will prod you or me to speak that welcome to someone else who has been told--perhaps even with a solid list of reasons--that they are ineligible for belonging, too. We should be prepared for the possibility that God will, by the same Spirit, send us to the very folks we have all decided "do not belong," precisely for the explicit purpose of telling them that belonging is a free gift for them. We should be prepared for the possibility that Jonah foresaw once upon a time--that God keeps a grace up the divine sleeve that offers acceptance to the very people we were dead sure were permanently unacceptable.
We should, in short, be prepared for the possibility that the living God will show us where we have made rules into an idol by pushing us to break the rules we thought were fixed and immovable... by offering love to those who have been told they are unlovable and unlovely.
Eventually, of course, the rest of the church came around to the place where the Spirit led Philip that day. By Acts 15, the leaders in Jerusalem--certainly in part prodded on by the story of what happened on that wilderness road leading out of Jerusalem to Gaza--arrived at an agreement that you didn't have to keep the laws of Israel to be a follower of Jesus. But notice that, despite all of our human wishes for control, the Holy Spirit didn't wait until people approved and voted on a resolution, but pushed the boundaries by God's own prerogatives.
What will happen today, or tomorrow, or the third day, when the Spirit taps you on the shoulder and says, "Go over to that person you only barely see out of the corner of your eye... and speak my love and welcome..."? What will happen when the Spirit of God carries you over the old boundaries with nothing but the gospel in your hands?
Lord God, help us. Help us to see where you are leading us, even if it means crossing lines we thought before were fixed and unchangeable. But you be the One to lead us, rather than us simply guessing. You, Lord, lead us. And give us the courage to go where you have blazed the trail.
A rule-following Philip would have been obligated to say, "I'm sorry, fella, but you can't have kids and you are, not to put too fine a point on it, damaged goods, and the Law of God says very clearly that you are to be excluded." A rule-bound Philip would have had to say that God's holiness cannot tolerate the presence of any impurity or imperfection or deviation, and since you can't repent or sacrifice your way out of a pre-existing condition, even though it is something you were either born with or had done to you by someone in the royal court of the Queen.
Suffice it to say that there were several pretty significant reasons that "the rules" gave a loud and clear answer why this man in the chariot was not to be allowed to be baptized into Christ. The rules said so. God's own rules, mind you.
But what does Luke record here in Acts? "The Spirit said to Philip, 'Go and talk to this man...'" Do you see? The Spirit--the Holy Spirit! the divine Third Person of the Trinity!--is the one who instigates this! This is not the tale of an over-eager, under-disciplined disciple overstepping his own theology by coming up with his own idea to baptize the stranger in the chariot, who then had to walk back all of his talk of "welcome" and "grace" when the higher-ups found out what he had done. This is the story of God--none other and no less than God--by the Holy Spirit directing Philip to go up and lead this man from Ethiopia to belong to the community of Jesus (although, in fairness, Jesus himself didn't fit the expected mold of the ideal Israelite, either, as someone who didn't fit the married-with-children head-of-household picture, either).
There's no other way to describe it, but that the Holy Spirit is in fact the One who pushes the envelope here. It is the Holy Spirit who clearly leads Philip to take the steps to speak, share the Gospel, and baptize this non-Jewish, departing foreigner who was existentially incapable of being a "married-with-children head-of-household", even though there were rules that would have excluded him if they had been enforced. It's funny, isn't it, how sometimes we equate what is "the law" with what is "God's will," when this very story, inspired by the same troublemaking Holy Spirit who spoke to Philip in the narrative itself, is all about God's own choice NOT to enforce the law of God's people... and to include this "unacceptable" one all the same.
Now, if you are following this train of thought so far, this story will do at least two things to you. For one, it will make your faith unavoidably messier. After all, there's no way around it but to say that God takes one (or more) of God's own rules, and God then pushes Philip to break the rule by deliberately including someone that the rules said was unacceptable. We might wish for a theology that is so starkly black-and-white as to decree who's in and who's out with perfect clarity, but the Bible itself does not give us such an idolatrous theology--only the messy faith of a God who reserves the right to break rules that previously carried divine authority.
And now second, this story will open us up to holy surprise. If the Spirit can whisper to Philip on an ordinary day, "Go to the back country road off ramp and give Christ's welcome to someone the Law says is not allowed into the club," then you and I should be prepared for the possibility that the same Spirit will prod you or me to speak that welcome to someone else who has been told--perhaps even with a solid list of reasons--that they are ineligible for belonging, too. We should be prepared for the possibility that God will, by the same Spirit, send us to the very folks we have all decided "do not belong," precisely for the explicit purpose of telling them that belonging is a free gift for them. We should be prepared for the possibility that Jonah foresaw once upon a time--that God keeps a grace up the divine sleeve that offers acceptance to the very people we were dead sure were permanently unacceptable.
We should, in short, be prepared for the possibility that the living God will show us where we have made rules into an idol by pushing us to break the rules we thought were fixed and immovable... by offering love to those who have been told they are unlovable and unlovely.
Eventually, of course, the rest of the church came around to the place where the Spirit led Philip that day. By Acts 15, the leaders in Jerusalem--certainly in part prodded on by the story of what happened on that wilderness road leading out of Jerusalem to Gaza--arrived at an agreement that you didn't have to keep the laws of Israel to be a follower of Jesus. But notice that, despite all of our human wishes for control, the Holy Spirit didn't wait until people approved and voted on a resolution, but pushed the boundaries by God's own prerogatives.
What will happen today, or tomorrow, or the third day, when the Spirit taps you on the shoulder and says, "Go over to that person you only barely see out of the corner of your eye... and speak my love and welcome..."? What will happen when the Spirit of God carries you over the old boundaries with nothing but the gospel in your hands?
Lord God, help us. Help us to see where you are leading us, even if it means crossing lines we thought before were fixed and unchangeable. But you be the One to lead us, rather than us simply guessing. You, Lord, lead us. And give us the courage to go where you have blazed the trail.
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