The Gray Chariot

The Gray Chariot
Acts 8:26-40; Psalm 22:25-31; 1 John 4:7-21 John 15:1-8
Fifth Sunday of Easter

El Zah stood easily in the cab of the chariot. Going here, going there for the needs of the Ethiopian government was his total life. In his earlier days, El Zah was a bitter youth, torn between his own fate and the good life handed to him.
El Zah had much of the best of life. He was a slave, but his owner trusted him with everything important to her. He traveled all over the area of northeast Africa, including the Nile River Valley of Egypt. He talked with heads of state from Syria to Libya. He prevented wars and worked to make life good for other Ethiopians trading or vacationing in the area.
Several times each year El Zah went home to Ethiopia. El Zah knew the importance of staying in touch with his own government. The discussions of the Ethiopian governmental councils and decision-makers were important to his own work. So whenever he could, El Zah traveled home to Ethiopia for new policy decisions and relationships.
In his official chariot, El Zah was a welcome addition to any caravan making the long trips south and back north through the Nile Valley. Traveling the road from Damascus to Alexandria, or to Morocco and return, was always dangerous. A high-placed official, even of a foreign government, offered some protection from marauding thieves. Yet this small defense worked both ways.
El Zah needed the protection of the caravans. Even a government official traveling alone had no protection from robbers or pirates. The official seal on his chariot carried little weight with highwaymen, especially outside Ethiopia. Few could read, and fewer cared what the words on the chariot might say, anyway. It was always best to be with an armed trading caravan. Another strong arm and fast horse was usually welcomed by the caravan operator as an extra fighter in case of attack.
As he traveled with a caravan on his business, El Zah had lots of time to think about his own situation. His own parents gave him up to Queen Candace at his birth. They made him a Eunuch in the belief this would deter him from any wishful thinking about either his lineage, either past or future. In this way, he could and should focus on his Queen as his whole purpose in life. He should be happy just knowing he had no other responsibilities for life itself.
But this only made El Zah more anxious about himself. He was dis-connected from generations who came before him. He would never have generations following him. None of the children he saw playing in the streets or fields along the Nile would ever call him “Father” or “Grand-Dad.” As El Zah rode along the ancient highway to Addis Ababa, he could not contemplate warm hugs and kisses from a wife or children at home.
El Zah spent many bitter, lonely hours along that dusty road between Alexandria and Addis Ababa. As he grew into middle age, El Zah allowed this bitterness to overwhelm him. He was a highly successful man. Still he could not shake the impact on himself. Sometimes he could only see himself as an animal, a creature with no value.
Sometimes El Zah made little side trips into the Jewish communities of Israel, Egypt or Ethiopia as he traveled. His own parents were Jews, but El Zah knew nothing more about them. He did not even know much about Judaism as a religion or a society. He only knew it was his only tie with preceding or following generations.
On one of his first long journeys, El Zah made a point to travel the length of Israel, from Capernaum to Jerusalem. As he traveled, El Zah was able to question many rabbis and elders about the faith. He learned about the great prophets of the north and the south, from Amos to Isaiah. He heard stories of the Great Exile, and saw the huge temple being rebuilt by the Herodians.
When he left Jerusalem to return again to Ethiopia, El Zah resolved to visit this promised land again whenever he could. After another journey to Libya and Morocco, he should be ready to return to the land of David and Josiah.
Meanwhile, he had work to do for his beloved Queen Candace. Acting as a chief statesman on her behalf call for his greatest skills. Publicly, he worked hard. Yet, at El Zah’s darkest hours he turned to the ancient wise man, Isaiah.
Everyone in Israel and close by, from Damascus to Gaza, seemed to know something about this great seer and writer. Even small children could quote his poetry and promises to a traveling Ethiopian. It seemed everyone wanted to help El Zah understand their faith, as seen through the eyes of Isaiah, the great prophet of the south. Some thoughtful rabbi gave him a tattered copy of one of the scrolls of Isaiah for his own study.
After a few days in Jerusalem, El Zah again left Jerusalem for Addis Addiba. As he rode, his horses settled easily into the gait set by the few camels in the caravan. In a few moments, El Zah pulled out the scroll of Isaiah. He began to read the new words. He liked the words, but they confused him.
The new student of the old religion soon found himself struggling with almost every phrase of Isaiah. El Zah knew enough of the language that he could read the words. He had a general sense of the meaning. But the phrases and the theology of Isaiah lost him almost entirely. As he rode along the rough road in his chariot, El Zah talked to himself, puzzling over the old language of his parents.
El Zah picked up a pattern in his travels which made his journeys more pleasant, and helped satisfy his curiosity. Often he picked up another traveler along the road. As they rode together, El Zah peppered the fellow traveler with questions about geography, religion, politics, food, and anything else that came to mind. He came to know a lot about many people along the roads. He could speak several languages now, and even sing songs of people from all around the Mediterranean.
Now a young man appeared beside the chariot, half running, half walking. With words which El Zah recognized were a mixture of Aramaic and Koine Greek, he asked if he could ride with the Ethiopian. With only a gesture and a smile between them, Philip stepped onto the platform of the chariot.
Philip tied his small roll to the chariot body. His eye caught a quick glimpse of the scroll of Isaiah in the hand of El Zah. Fascinated and excited now, Philip saw the Ethiopian’s eyes beginning to scowl with misunderstanding and puzzle. He realized El Zah was trying to study the six-century old words of the great prophet of the Jews. Instantly, Philip recalled the gentle words in his ear. “Go over by that chariot. Stay close. You will have an opportunity to speak to him about me.”
Now Philip knew he just had to speak. “Do you understand what you are reading there? Those are the words of Isaiah, the great prophet of the Jews.”
El Zah could only answer from the heart. “I know these words. I know they tell about my life. But I am not sure what they say. How can I know what the words say? I have no one to explain them to me. I have no parents, and no children. I have not studied in school. A rabbi gave me this scroll, but I can only read the words. How can I know what they mean? What is he telling me with his words of life? My parents were Jews of Ethiopia, but I know almost nothing of their faith. Who will help me know the meaning of my own life?”
Philip was momentarily stunned. He expected to speak to this man about Jesus, but only after some persuasive argument. Yet here was an open invitation to lay it on the line. Of course, Philip made a monumental error. He assumed El Zah thought the words of Isaiah referred to Jesus, just crucified and resurrected in Jerusalem.
However, the Ethiopian could only see himself in the words of Isaiah. His years of lament over his own state of loneliness and separation from the generations of his own family tricked him into seeing the world – and Isaiah’s words – centering on himself.
But Philip talked about Jesus. He talked about Jesus being the focus of all of Judaism. He talked about Jesus being the central figure of all of history, and especially the central figure of the people of the Lord, the people of Moses, the people of David, the people of the Exile and the Return. Philip needed to talk about Jesus as the center of his own existence as a Greek and a Jew.
As Philip talked on, bouncing along in the Ethiopian government chariot, changes began to make themselves known in El Zah’s heart. El Zah began to see his own existence, his personality, his nation, his inheritance, linked undeniably to the Judaism of this Philip, and his leader, Jesus. He saw every part of himself attached to this man, the center of the words, the life and the faith of Philip.
Slowly El Zah began to realize that his lack of lineage, family or generations did not matter any longer. He might be riding an Ethiopian chariot down a dusty Judaean road across the desert to Phoenicia, but his heart was tied to a Galilean carpenter. Through that man, El Zah was linked to every man, woman and child on earth.
As his horses plodded on along the dusty road, the Ethiopian tried to take in the meaning of this new relationship. What a concept for him! Related and linked to every man, woman and child on the face of the earth! But how could he seal this new status? How could he formally accept this new relationship through Jesus? How could he buy into this new pattern of living and loving?
The small caravan began to stop for a mid-day rest alongside an oasis pool, twenty or so miles southwest of Jerusalem. The day was not too hot, so the horses and camels were able to make good time, about a steady four miles per hour. The road was pretty good, well constructed and maintained by the Romans. And now the pool of good water was really a gift. El Zah thought of the symbolism of the pool in his own life. He even began to see Philip as part of the Lord’s gift to the wandering Ethiopian.
Suddenly, El Zah had a new notion, inspired by the presence of Philip and Jesus in his life. “Philip, I just now have a thought. What is to keep me from being baptized? That baptism will be the Lord’s mark on me! With that mark, I will be known as a member of the family of the Lord!. I will be in the family of Jesus! I will be in your family, Philip! I will be in the family of Peter, and John, and Mary, and all the rest! I will be known by my baptism, rather than as a eunuch. I will be free! Let’s do it, Philip. Here. Right now. In this pool!”
So in the pool in the desert southwest of Jerusalem, Philip baptized El Zah, a servant of Candace, queen of Ethiopia. Several travelers watched the little ritual. Traders, soldiers, diplomats, slaves, men, women. Camels and horses.
El Zah became family with every part of Creation that day, lifted by the presence of the onlookers. Lifted by the Lord. Lifted by love.
Then El Zah climbed again into the gray chariot to continue his journey to Ethiopia. He looked around for his new brother to climb in for the ride. But Philip was no where to be found.
Amen