Jesus 4 Everybody: Outsiders In

Good morning. We're working. As he said, I am Danny Yancey and I am on staff here as our worship director. I want to add my words of thanks to Kyle and the deacons. He has been a wonderful addition and wonderful help to our worship ministry, and I'm thankful that here in the worship ministry we get more of Kyle McKenzie. I kind of call him MacGyver. You ever seen the show MacGyver? That's Kyle McKenzie. Just give him some bubble gum and some duct tape and he can fix the world. That's Kyle McKenzie, and I'm indeed grateful for him.

Also, quick before I launch into this, I want to say, in case you're wondering, thank you, but yes, there is nothing wrong with me and Deidre. We're okay. Deidre has been away for a number of weeks because our children are involved in basketball and tournaments all over. So if you're wondering where my wife is, we're okay. She's been away for a number of Sundays because my daughter is involved in basketball. Today, they're in Spartanburg, South Carolina beating up on some team somewhere.

But today, it is my privilege and my pleasure to be able to share in God's word. Throughout the summer, we have been embarking on a preaching series through the book of Acts entitled Jesus for Everybody, looking at the Holy Spirit's work in the life of the early church. And today, we land at Acts chapter 8, verses 26 through 40. It's a familiar story—the story of Philip's encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch.

As we read through this passage together, I want you to see it through the filter of this main idea: God makes outsiders insiders, not through human striving, but through his Holy Spirit at work through the lives of ordinary individuals like us.

Let's read together.

An angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, "Get up and go south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza. This is the desert road." So he got up and went. There was an Ethiopian man, a eunuch and high official of Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who was in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to worship in Jerusalem and was sitting in his chariot on his way home reading the prophet Isaiah aloud.

The Spirit told Philip, "Go and join that chariot." When Philip ran up to it, he heard him reading the prophet Isaiah and said, "Do you understand what you're reading?" He said, "How can I, unless someone guides me?" So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.

Now, the scripture passage he was reading was this: "He was led like a sheep to the slaughter and as a lamb is silent before its shearer, so he does not open his mouth. In his humiliation, justice was denied him. Who will describe his generation for his life is taken from the earth?"

The eunuch said to Philip, "I ask you, who is the prophet saying this about? Himself or someone else?" Philip proceeded to tell him the good news about Jesus beginning with that scripture.

As they were traveling down the road, they came to some water. The eunuch said, "Look, there's water. What would keep me from being baptized?" So he ordered the chariot to stop and both Philip and the eunuch went down into the water and he baptized him.

When he came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord carried Philip away and the eunuch did not see him any longer but went on his way rejoicing. Philip appeared in Azotus and he was traveling and preaching the gospel in all the towns until he came to Caesarea. — Acts 8:26-40

This is the word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Would you pray with me? God, we are grateful for your word. God, your word is a feast for our souls. We pray this morning that you would help us to feast on your word—not to just nibble, not to graze, but to feast on your word, because your word is life and health to our longing souls. This we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Outsiders In

I'm calling this sermon Outsiders In.

And we're all family. So before I get started, can I just take a quick moment and vent? I used to be amazing. At least that's what I thought I was in the mind of my children. I'd come home, walk through the door and there would just be this ocean of arms and hands and voices all reaching out to me, all waiting to spend just a few minutes with me because they thought I was amazing. That didn't last long. And now I walk in the door and the best I can hope to get is, "Oh, hey." Or, "Hey, Dad, what's for dinner?" Or my favorite, "Hey, Dad, I need a new..." insert something that's going to cost me a lot of money. I used to be amazing, and now I'm ordinary.

I have to tell you this story. We were playing basketball—told you my kids are athletes—playing basketball, and it's me and Olivia versus the boys.

And Christopher, my oldest, says to my third born, my 11 year old, "I'll get Olivia because she's tough. You get dad. But don't worry about him, he's just tall." I used to be amazing and now I'm just tall.

You see, the problem—or what changed—is time and familiarity. Because my kids have spent so much time with me, they think they know everything there is to know about me. They've heard all of my funny stories, they know all of my history, and they feel like they have me completely figured out. What was once amazing is now ordinary.

And sadly for many of us, this is the view that we have of our faith. We've been around the church all of our lives. We've read the stories. We've heard literally thousands of sermons and we've sat through just as many church services. We've recited the creeds, we've memorized the catechisms, and it all just feels ordinary.

It's kind of like meatloaf. You know, it tastes pretty good and it's fine for a Thursday night dinner at home with the family, but it's not really worth sharing with anybody else. And sadly, our faith—this amazing, glorious faith—falls in the same category as meatloaf. It's functional, it's comforting, but it's joyless.

In Psalm 51:12, David's prayer to God is:

Restore to me the joy of your salvation. — Psalm 51:12

How does joy get restored? Well, I believe there's an answer to that question right here in our text today. And as we walk through this passage, I want to uncover that answer through these three points that steer us toward Joy Restored.

Point one: an amazing God as we look at verses 26 through 29. Point two: an amazing gospel as we look at verses 30 through 35. And then finally, amazing grace as we look at verses 36 through 40.

You saw from our passage, it's kind of lengthy and we're gonna comb through all of it, so we're gonna jump right in and begin. Chapter eight of Acts, as Jeff told us last week, begins bleak. Stephen is dead. Saul is actively seeking to find and kill more Christians. The church scattered. Not the most fertile ground for joy.

However, it's through this scattering that the church is mobilized to reach those outside of the city of Jerusalem. And if we had more time today, we would look at the entirety of chapter eight and we'd see how the gospel was preached to many in Samaria and how these many outsiders came to faith by the work of the Holy Spirit through Philip.

But our preaching text today tells a more intimate story with a more personal message—one that I need to hear and be reminded of often. And that message is this: that yes, God does reach wide to save the many, but he also reaches deep to seek and find you. He reaches deep to seek and find you.

And so as our passage begins, we see God at work, orchestrating and setting in motion the events that are gonna take place. He calls Philip to leave this thriving revival in Samaria with no further instructions at that point other than: go south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza. That's it. No instructions of exactly the individual specifics, just go south down from Jerusalem to Gaza. Go.

My family can relate to this because there's this thing that I do that drives them crazy. We'll be in the car somewhere and one of my kids will ask, "Dad, where are we going?" And I'll respond, "With me."

"Yeah, I know we're going with you but where?"

"I just told you, you're going with me."

And there are times in our walk as Christians that we want to know God's plan. Right? We want to know: Why am I going through this? Where are you leading me? God, where are we going? And sometimes his answer is: with me.

You see, with my children, the bigger truth that I want them to see is that I have a destination in mind, and even though they don't know where we're going, that's okay because they aren't driving. I am, and I have a destination in mind. And not only do I have a destination in mind, while we're going, I am supplying and meeting every single one of their needs. They are with their father and their father is with them and for them.

And our heavenly Father says the same sentiment to Philip, and he says the same thing to us: I know you may be wandering in dry desert places. I know my promises may not match your current reality. I know that you're frustrated, confused, and afraid. But just know that you are not alone. God says, I'm behind the wheel. You are with me, and I am with and for you. That's good news today, amen?

But in addition to Philip, the Holy Spirit is also at work in this passage in the life of an outsider—a triple outsider—this Ethiopian eunuch. He's a triple outsider because, one, he's a eunuch. That makes him a social outsider. Second, though he's a Jewish convert, he's not Jewish. That makes him a gentile, an ethnic outsider. And third, he's Black. That makes him a racial outsider.

You see, in the story, when it calls him this Ethiopian eunuch, it's not necessarily talking about where he's from—he's from the Kingdom of Kush. That Greek word there, Ethiopia, is actually in Greek, Ethiopia, which translates to "burnt skin," or in other words, he's black. Outsider. And in this ocean of tanned Middle Easterners, his dark brown skin stands out as a red flag to others and a constant reminder to himself that he is an outsider.

But this eunuch, he's kind of a big deal. And I want us, as we read this passage, to replace our westernized view of a poor third world African villager. This was the secretary of the treasury of one of the most powerful kingdoms on earth at the time, and he had come to Jerusalem likely with an envoy to worship. And we meet him here in our text after the worship, after not being allowed to enter the temple because of his status as an outsider. And he's embarking on this 1,600 mile journey from Jerusalem back home. Think about the distance from Raleigh to Santa Fe, New Mexico. That's the distance as he's traveling. And he's in this opulent, wealthy chariot when he's approached by an ordinary Jewish man named Philip.

Do you see the spirit at work here in verses 26 to 29? Do you see him calling both Philip and this eunuch to walk in faith? For both of them, at this point in the passage, their current situations are bleak. Philip's now in the desert, wandering in a dry place for reasons he doesn't yet know. Anyone else ever been there? And the Ethiopian, after having traveled 1,600 miles to get there, he's told he can't even enter the temple and he's on his way back home from a disappointing worship experience that seemed to be a waste of time.

And I'm sure, like us, they both had questions. Why am I doing this? This is hard. What's the point of all this? God, where are you leading me? Where are we going? Can you hear the spirit whispering to them and to us?

You are going with me. I am driving and I have a beautiful destination in mind. And as you're walking even in fragile faith, I am with you. I will supply every one of your needs because I am for you.

Which brings me to point two: an amazing gospel as we look at verses 30 through 35.

The Power of Commonality

To set this up, let me be honest, and this is me being honest with my pastor and boss here in the room. You ever have those meetings and you always begin those meetings with icebreakers? I hate icebreakers. I do. You know, those initial games that group leaders come up with to get everybody out of their seats and talking to each other. Yep. Not a fan. I would much rather stay in my seat, skip the weird icebreakers, skip the group work, just give me my task and send me on my way to go do it. Anybody else like that with me? Thank you. Good. Good to know I'm not the one in the room.

But, as much as I hate to admit it, icebreakers are useful. They're useful in that they help groups of strangers find commonalities, and commonalities are powerful. Each and every one of us in this room, without exception, we have something in common. We all want to belong. Right? We all want to know that we are not alone, to know that there are other people who share our experiences, who understand us, who speak our language. There's comfort in that. There's security in that. There's safety in that.

And so though I hate icebreakers, I do recognize that commonalities are important. And this idea is expressed right here in our text. We see Philip, this ordinary Jewish man, approaching the wealthy envoy of this Ethiopian eunuch. Differences—different culture, different socioeconomic status, differences. But as Philip gets closer, he notices three commonalities. He hears the Greek language. He speaks Greek because the eunuch is reading from the school of Isaiah, which is in Greek, which means the second commonality—he hears the word of God being read from the book of Isaiah. And the third commonality was that the passage that this eunuch is reading was an Old Testament veiled presentation of the gospel. He heard the gospel.

And upon hearing this word being read, Philip asks this Ethiopian, "Do you understand what you're reading?" And the eunuch responds with tender vulnerability: "How can I understand what I'm reading unless someone guides me?"

CTK, how many opportunities for growth, opportunities for joy do we miss out on by pretending to be stronger, wiser, better than we really are? How many insights do we miss out on when we fail to listen to voices of people that we deem to be beneath us? There's so much strength in the vulnerability of saying, like this Ethiopian, "Help me understand." Of saying to someone that you disagree with, "Help me see your point on this matter. I may disagree with you, but I want to understand your heart because your heart matters to God. And since your heart matters to God, your heart should also matter to me. Help me understand."

And after inviting Philip inside his chariot, the Holy Spirit continues to work. Beginning with this passage from Isaiah 53, Philip begins to preach Jesus. Now, this is significant. Think about this. So this Ethiopian eunuch is coming from the Kingdom of Cush, 1,600 miles away from the events in Jerusalem. Right? And he's a part of this group of Jewish converts, and so they're Jewish, and like all Jews, are waiting for the coming Messiah. Imagine Philip's joy to be able to proclaim to this Jewish convert that the Messiah has come and his name is Jesus.

And so Philip begins with this passage that the Ethiopian is reading, and I can imagine he tells him how Jesus, the suffering servant in Isaiah, was led like a sheep to the slaughter from judgment hall to judgment hall. And how as his accusers spoke against him, struck him, spat upon him, he was silent as a lamb is silent before it shivers. He no doubt tells him how they mocked him, stripped him of his clothes and placed a crown of thorns on his head. How they beat Jesus, how they whipped him, and ultimately how they crucified him. And how on Good Friday, Jesus, this Messiah, died, his life taken from the earth.

I can imagine the look of sadness on this Ethiopian's face. The questions bubbling up in his heart. And I can imagine him locking eyes with Philip who oddly smiles and says, "Keep reading." And I can imagine him picking up right there in Isaiah 53. Instead of ending with verse nine, he continues with verse 10.

Yet the Lord was pleased to crush him severely. When you make him a guilt offering, he will see his seed, he will prolong his days, and by his hand the Lord's pleasure will be accomplished. After his anguish, he will see light and be satisfied. By his knowledge, my righteous servant will justify many, and he will carry their iniquities. Therefore, I will give him the many as a portion, and he will receive the mighty as spoil because he willingly submitted to death and was counted among the rebels. Yet he bore the sin of many and interceded for the rebels. — Isaiah 53:10-12

And I can imagine Philip then barely able to contain his excitement, exclaiming, "Jesus lives. He has risen from the dead, and all power and all authority has been given to him in heaven and on earth. And now he sits on the throne in heaven at the right hand of God, interceding for us. And because of his blood shed on the cross, he has justified us. We were outsiders, but now because of the blood of Jesus and only through Christ, we are in. We were the many that were given to him as a portion at the beginning of verse 12. We are the rebels being interceded for at the end of this verse 12. Because while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. His blood atones for us, and now he lives for us. This is good news. This is the gospel, and this amazing gospel is for you. Amen?"

I need some water.

Amazing Grace

Which brings me to point three: Amazing grace. So here we are at the end of the passage. The gospel has been shared and received. And as they continue traveling, they come to some water in the desert. The eunuch then says something that sounds strangely familiar to me at least. He says, "Look, there's water. What would keep me from being baptized?"

You see that in the text? "What would keep me from being baptized?" Now that's strange to me because this eunuch has just heard about the free gift that Christ offers us. And here he is asking, "What would keep me from being baptized?"

I recognize this language though. From my non-reformed years of believing that my salvation was mine to earn. I was told that it was a free gift, but somehow this free gift came with strings and an ever-growing list of requirements. Constantly feeling like I was one mistake away, one sin away from losing it all. My salvation, my place in God constantly in question. Overanalyzing every calamity and every trial somehow as God's punishment on me for my failure to live right. Always striving, always failing, always frustrated with myself that I could never seem to live wholly enough.

Has anybody heard those messages as well? I recognize this language. This idea that before coming to Jesus, I need to first get myself together enough. Well, CTK, we know that that's a task that none of us are ever equipped to handle.

His question—"What would keep me from being baptized?"—this is the language of the outsider catechism. What's a catechism? It's a systematic way of teaching through questions and answers that's designed to root truth deep into your heart, deep into the core of who you are.

You see, life had catechized this eunuch to believe that his condition was his identity. He was likely castrated as a young boy so that his body would stop producing testosterone. And without testosterone, his growth was altered. His male voice never changed. And so he looked different. He sounded different.

And every interaction with other people reminded him daily, like a catechism, that he is an outsider. The catechism's question to him: Who are you? His catechized answer: I am a eunuch. Do you belong? No, I do not belong. This was the catechism for his life as the world had led him to believe it.

Well, CTK, all of us, we are constantly being catechized by the world around us. We are catechized to believe that we need to look a certain way, act certain ways in certain situations, catechized to believe that some sins are acceptable and some are not, catechized to believe that happiness is always just one more thing that's just out of reach away.

Our questions: What will make you happy? The catechism's answer: if I follow my heart, if I buy more things, if I can post the perfect picture, if I can be popular, if I can be well liked. Social media and television catechizes us daily to believe certain things about certain types of people, catechized to have an us versus them mentality.

The question: What's wrong with the world? Our catechized answer: those people are what's wrong with the world. They need fathers. They need to enter the country legally. They need to have normal relationships. They need to assimilate and become like us.

Question: What is your responsibility to those people? Our catechized answer: I bear no responsibility to those people whatsoever. They are not my neighbor.

These and others like them are the silent catechisms that we're bombarded with daily. And we often don't even realize that the catechism is taking place, but the messages take root deep into the core of who we are nonetheless.

But thanks be to God that where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. Freedom from our outsider catechisms, freedom from this us versus them mentality, freedom to live, really live into the fullness and truth of who God has called us to be and the work that he has called us to be about.

A New Catechism

And so to every eunuch, to every sinner, to every outsider, here is your new catechism. What would keep you from believing and being baptized? What would keep you from drawing near to Jesus? Here is your new catechized answer: nothing. Nothing. Christ has gone before us. He has stood in our place. He has received the penalty that we deserve and now there is nothing that prevents the outsider from believing the gospel and coming in.

Both the Spirit and the bride say, "Come." Let anyone who hears say, "Come." Let the one who is thirsty come. Let the one who desires take the water of life freely. — Revelation 22:17

And this eunuch does just that. He and Philip went down into the water and he was baptized. After which, the spirit whisked Philip away to Azotus and the eunuch went on his way rejoicing.

The end. But wait. There is an epilogue to this story. Like a good Marvel movie, I love a good Marvel movie, there are two post credit scenes.

Here's the first. After the Ethiopian eunuch returns home, he carries the gospel with him. Can you imagine his joy to be able to greet his brothers and sisters as black Jewish converts in Kush to proclaim to them that the long awaited Messiah has come and his name is Jesus. And it's from this eunuch, a man who could not father children, that the Ethiopian Orthodox Church is born and is still in existence to this day.

Here's your second post credit scene. Take a look at the end in your bulletins, in your passage at the very end of chapter eight. And it says, we find Philip in Azotus where he preaches the gospel in all the towns until he came to Caesarea.

Well, when you get home and you grab your Bible, fast forward to Acts chapter 21 verses eight through 10. Here, we see Philip again. He's still in Caesarea at home with his four daughters when there in his doorway stands the apostle Paul.

Now here's the thing that blows my mind about that. This Paul that's standing in his doorway is the same Saul from the beginning of chapter eight. The same Saul that sent the church scattering, the same Saul that was complicit in the stoning of Stephen, Philip's co-laborer. Yet Philip doesn't kick him out. Philip doesn't plan some elaborate scheme to get even. Instead, Philip welcomes him and the text says that he stayed in Philip's home for several days.

What an enormous display of forgiveness. What a tremendous example of God's amazing transformative grace.

How Joy Gets Restored

As I close, I asked the question in the beginning: How does joy get restored? How does joy get restored? Did you see the answer whispered throughout the passage? Both the Ethiopian and Philip's joy was a direct result of faith in Jesus and being obedient to their call on his call on their lives to go.

For us here today, the spirit's call on our lives also is to go, to serve. Not to sit, to serve.

This is our joy, to be willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus in the lives of others, to be a part of someone else's story of redemption, to get actively involved in the process of the spirit's work of making outsiders, insiders. This is the path to joy restored.

Remember the great commission, Matthew 28? Jesus said:

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the father and of the son and of the holy spirit, teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always to the end of the age. — Matthew 28

Christ invites us to go. And when we're going and we start to get antsy and we begin asking, where are we going? He gently answers, you are going with me and I am with you. Jesus is holding the keys. He's in the driver's seat. He is driving, not us. He's behind the wheel and he has a destination already set.

And as he drives, our joy along the way is to yell as loud as we can to others walking aimlessly outside, hey, you outsider, get in. Get in. And when the outsider gets inside and he begins asking, where are we going? Smile. Point to the driver's seat and say with him.

And as the worship team comes and prepares, when faith feels ordinary and the story of redemption feels familiar, that's not the time, CTK, to shrink back. That's not the time to take a break. That's the time to get involved, to mobilize like the early church did and get involved in the work of the gospel and see the story of redemption made new all over again in the life of someone else.

Let the spirit's work restore your joy and remind you that we don't serve an ordinary God. We serve an amazing God whose amazing gospel brings outsiders in and who daily gives to each of us amazing grace. In the name of the Father, son, and the holy spirit. Let's stand and sing.