Pastor Cogan

Holy Curiosity

Acts 8:26-40

Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip, ‘Get up and go towards 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. He asked, ‘Do you understand what you are reading?’ He replied, ‘How can I, unless someone guides me?’ And he invited Philip to get in and sit beside him. Now the passage of the scripture that he was reading was this:
‘Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,
and like a lamb silent before its shearer,
so he does not open his mouth.
In his humiliation justice was denied him.
Who can describe his generation?
For his life is taken away from the earth.’

The eunuch asked Philip, ‘About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?’ 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?’ He commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip* baptized him. When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip found himself at Azotus, and as he was passing through the region, he proclaimed the good news to all the towns until he came to Caesarea.


We are all losers, at least that’s what it feels like for most of us. Before you pie me, let me explain! Back in February, Pew Research Center, a nonpartisan organization that conducts public opinion polls on everything from politics to religion, science and more, released updated findings on how folks feel like their side in politics is doing.

And according to that multiyear study, less than a quarter of Americans feel like their side is winning on issues that matter to them. Which means that the rest of us, the vast majority of us, feel like we are losing. No wonder public dialogue, political discourse, or even talking with a neighbor or coworker feels so embittered and tense. Most of us feel like we are fighting a losing battle. In reality though what we are all losing to is tribalism.

Tribalism is the instinct to gather and connect with people who are similar in all sorts of ways: beliefs, interests, experiences, and more. Our tribe tells us who we are, what we’re supposed to do, and what we believe. Now this is not necessarily a bad thing. Having a community that helps give us identity, that surrounds us and supports us is very important.

But tribalism becomes treacherous when it tells us who we should fear. We can so closely identify with our tribe that anyone who is different becomes a threat.

It is dangerous then when a tribe says, “Watch out for them. They aren’t like us. They are trying to take things from you, they only want to hurt you. They are the cause of your problems, of our problems. Be very afraid of them. Be afraid of the democrats. Be afraid of the republicans.

Be afraid of people who are transgender or who do drag. Be afraid of progressives or fundamentalist. Be very afraid.”

Sharon Brous, a rabbi in Los Angeles, writes that “One of the great casualties of tribalism is curiosity. And when we are no longer curious, when we don’t try to imagine or understand what another person is thinking or feeling or where her pain comes from, our hearts begin to narrow.

We become less compassionate and more entrenched in our own worldviews.” Perhaps we all feel like we are losing because tribalism has swallowed up our sense of curiosity and narrowed our hearts.

Which is why we need the story of Philip and the Eunuch now more than ever. For some context: Philip is a newly appointed leader in the growing Jesus movement. Religious leaders felt threatened by this and especially with a disciple named Stephen. Under the authority of a man named Saul, they stoned Stephen. And the church then was severely persecuted, scattering disciples all over the place. I imagine at this point it would have been so easy for the church to become tribal; telling each other who to watch out for and who to be afraid of, “be afraid of anyone who is not like us”. But that’s not the case for Philip.

Philip first goes to Samaria, the despised, distant cousin of the Jews, preaching and healing the sick, and to everyone’s surprise, droves of Samaritans believed and were baptized. This Jesus movement was moving beyond its Jewish, Jerusalem community and into a diverse, global body. The opposite of tribalism. And that’s where our story picks up.

An angel of the Lord tells Philip to go to an unusual place; not to a city, or to someone’s home, but to a road. A road is not a destination though, especially one that’s in the wilderness. But Philip, ever obedient, goes to this deserted highway. What for, exactly, he doesn’t know…

Until he hears the clopping of hooves pulling a chariot. Were told the passenger inside is an Ethiopian Eunuch.

Talk about a person who was not like Philip. In the time of the early church, the term Ethiopian referred broadly to people with black skin. In other ancient near eastern literature, Ethiopian meant someone who was from the farthest ends of the earth.

Not to mention that this person's gender was quite questionable. As castrated males, eunuchs didn’t fit into the gender norms of the Roman world. They weren’t considered men because they couldn’t produce children. But they weren’t seen as women either. And because they didn’t fit neatly into the binary, they were often an object of scorn.

Yet this Eunuch is at the same time powerful. He’s literate and wealthy enough to have a chariot at his disposal and a scroll of Isaiah. Nonetheless, he could not be more different from Philip. But the Holy Spirit doesn’t care about differences. The Spirit tells Philip to go to the chariot. I imagine Philip running to catch up with the chariot. Breathing heavily and gripping the window, he yells his question at the passenger. What would you do if someone did that to you while driving on 52? My guess is you wouldn’t invite them in your car!

But what ensues here is an interaction marked by holy curiosity. Both ask questions and invite more conversation: Do you understand what you're reading, asks Philip? No, I need a guide, says the Eunuch. Neither pretends to know more than they do. Both are incredibly vulnerable considering what has just happened to each of them.

Philip just had a fellow disciple killed for preaching about Jesus and here he is telling a complete stranger all about him? And the Eunuch had just gone to Jerusalem for worship, but because he was a Eunuch he wasn’t allowed in the temple to worship. It would be like coming here, being denied entrance into the sanctuary, and watching worship from the welcome space.

You’d think after that kind of rejection, the Eunuch would be done with organized religion. Yet, he asks Philip to tell him about this passage in Isaiah.

The result is two of the unlikeliest of people, in an unlikely location, being joined together as siblings in Christ through the water of baptism. [Rejoicing and changed as they walk away from this encounter]

That’s exactly what the Holy Spirit does. As Willie James Jennings puts it: the Holy Spirit rarely if ever sends us where we want to go or to whom we would want to go. Indeed the Spirit seems to always be pressing us to go to those to whom we would in fact strongly prefer never to share space, or a meal, and definitely not life together. Yet it is precisely this prodding to be boundary-crossing and border-transgressing that marks the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Who is your tribe telling you to fear? Who are you afraid of because you’ve been told they are the source of your problems or the problems in the world? Whoever they are, they are likely people very different from you, as different as Philip from the Eunuch.

And yet, the gospel tells us that through the Holy Spirit, a relationship is possible; doing life together with empathy and understanding is possible, working together to further the kingdom of God is possible. So perhaps what we need most in this time of deep divide among tribes is a holy curiosity: asking questions that invite more conversation, not acting like we know more than we do, and a vulnerability to go to the person and places we never thought we would.

What would your life look like if you, if we practiced obedience to the Spirit’s leading? Where would you go? Whom would you meet and engage with? What would our life together as Cross of Grace look like if we did the same? Where would we be led? Who is waiting for us there?

Life in the Spirit means we do not fear those different from ourselves. We engage with holy curiosity. And we walk away rejoicing; changed. When we do this, no one loses, everyone wins.

Such is the kingdom of God.

Amen


Resurrection as "Choose Your Own Adventure"

Mark 16:1-8

When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.

As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.


Beware and warning! This book is different from other books. You and you alone are in charge of what happens in this story. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. you must use all of your numerous talents and much of your enormous intelligence. The wrong decision could end in disaster - even death. but don't despair. At any time, you can go back and make another choice, alter the path of your story, and change its result.

That’s how every “Choose your own adventure” book begins. Then you are thrown into the thick of some plot. Maybe you're a teenage detective searching for a stolen rare tea bowl like in Cup of Death. Or you’re a doctor for a highly skilled expedition on the Amazon river as in Lost on the Amazon. Or the COO of spy activity for a new nation in the year 2051 as in Beyond Escape.

Did you read these books as a kid or remember your kids reading them? They were all the rage in the 80s and 90s. But if you’ve never heard of the “choose your own adventure” series, they were small chapter books created by Edward Packard and Ray Montgomery, two dads, who loved telling stories to their kids.

Here’s how they work: every few pages you are left with a decision to make: swim up the river turn to page 43 or stay on the shore turn to page 71. Make a run for it turn to page 4 or talk to the shop owner, page 38. And then there were multiple endings based on the decisions you made. At first, you likely made choices by following your intuitions, decisions you would actually make in real life. But then, if you weren’t happy with the ending, you’d go back, make different choices, and receive a different ending. And the allure of the “choose” books was that the deaths were never final. No matter how the story ends - you could get sliced in half by a portal that sends your torso to the future and your legs to the past - even then you could go back and make different choices. The ending was never really the end.

And as a kid… I couldn’t stand these books! I didn’t like hopping around from one scene to the next. I wanted consistency in the story; I wanted some certainty as to what could be expected; I wanted closure. That’s how real life is, afterall. We take comfort that, most of the time, we can anticipate what’s coming next. Sure, this life might be a little mundane sometimes, but at least we know what it holds: we’re born, we go to school, we get jobs. We might get married; we grow old, and we get one ending, the same ending, [we die].

We make choices along the way, but we can’t go back and change them. That’s why my routine loving, black and white thinking, ten year old self didn’t like “choose your own adventure books”: I wanted more closure then they could offer. And my hunch is that’s likely why we struggle with the end of Mark’s gospel, too. It offers no closure.

Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of James, and Salome came for closure. They expected to see and anoint the body of Jesus, whom they saw die two days ago. But that's not how this story goes. What they came looking for, they didn't find. What was expected, didn’t happen! “He’s not here.” Says the young man in the tomb. “Look! That's where he was laid”.

They had in fact watched some guy named Joseph wrap Jesus' body in linen cloth and place him in the tomb that’s now empty. “So go, tell his disciples… that he’s gone on ahead of you to Galilee; that’s where you’ll see him, just as he told you!” They fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them, telling nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

That’s the ending? That’s no ending. Seeing the body in the tomb, that would be an ending. Seeing the risen Jesus in Galilee that would be an ending. But seeing neither and the women leaving and telling no one because they were afraid, that’s no ending at all! In Matthew the women see Jesus as they flee the tomb and the disciples talk to him on the mountain. In Luke, Jesus walks with two disciples on the road to Emmaus and then has dinner with all them. In John, there is breakfast on the beach. Those are endings!

But in Mark, we get an abrupt pause. An unfinished story. And if there is one thing we can’t stand, it's a story with no end. Joyous ending, terrible ending, we’ll take what we can get; just as long as there’s an ending. We aren’t the first people to be troubled by Mark’s unfinished story. From very early on, the church tried to fill in the story so that it comes to a nice conclusion, like proof of a resurrection and assurance that the women did in fact tell others. That’s why if you pulled out that black Bible underneath your seat you’d see two additional endings. But people much smarter than me say verse 8 is most likely where Mark stopped writing.

So it might be helpful to look at Mark’s version of the resurrection as a “choose your own adventure”, because in many ways, that’s what it is: an unfinished story that you are a part of. You are thrown into the thick of the plot along with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome. While they went to the tomb, you came here this morning. You too came looking for Jesus. Or maybe you came looking for proof of the resurrection, or maybe you came just to hear a good easter story with no loose ends. But what you got instead is the word and promise of someone else telling you that Jesus was crucified but has been raised. And that he’s gone on ahead of you. That he will meet you in the days ahead, just as he said he would. You now get to choose how this story continues…

That’s the good news of the resurrection! The story is unfinished and you get to be a part of it. Death is no longer the end of the story. Through the death and resurrection of Jesus you have new life and it starts here and now. It’s not new life like a “choose your own adventure book”. You can’t go back and change the decision you’ve made and receive a different ending. New life in Christ is much greater than that! Its not going backward, but forward.

New life in Christ means: if you aren’t happy with the way you're living your life, with the decisions you’ve made, or with how your story is turning out, you get to try again! We don’t make the right choices, we don’t love our neighbors as we should, nor do we work for justice the way God wants us to. But because of Jesus, we are forgiven for all that we’ve done or not done, said or not said. And that forgiveness, that fresh start of each new day, that opportunity to try again and again is what we call grace. And that grace is given to you as a gift, no strings attached.

To be clear, no choice you make gets you saved or puts you in a right relationship with God. That choice was made for you by Jesus on Friday. The choice that lies before us now is the same that the Marys and Salome faced some 2000 years ago this very morning. You’ve heard the good news. Jesus is not dead. He is alive. You’ve been given new life! So what will it be?

Will you leave and tell no one?

Will you share the good news with all who need it?

Will you run to meet Jesus and continue the work he’s called us to: loving our neighbors, feeding the hungry, striving for justice?

If so, beware and warning. Because this story is different from all other stories and you are invited to be a part of it. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. God has given you so many talents and enormous intelligence to help along the way. You’ll make wrong decisions, there will be disaster, and even death. But don’t despair. It's not the end. Jesus has given you new life, calling you forward into a new day, forgiving your sins, giving you grace, and altering the path of your story. Thanks be to God.

Amen.