Author Archives: Keith Anderson

Who’s Converting Whom?

Our Gospel reading for this morning is commonly known as the Conversion of the Ethiopian Eunuch – for the obvious reason that at the end of the story, the eunuch comes to believe in Jesus and is baptized. But this week my friend Nadia Bolz-Weber posed the provocative question: is it the eunuch that is converted here, or is it Philip, or both?

Consider, she says, that the eunuch was seeking God (reading from Isaiah, going to Jerusalem to worship) but would not, by religious law, have been allowed in the worship assembly because of his, um, eunuch-ness.

So, he’s returning home from Jerusalem to Ethiopia. Perhaps disappointed, dejected, still a little confused, but still searching the Scriptures nonetheless.

God sends Philip to meet this man. Notice: this graceful exchange between them is almost all questions:

“Do you understand what you are reading?” “How can I unless someone guides me?” “What is to prevent me from being baptized?” Well, nothing. And so he is.

On a wilderness road, in a road-side puddle, a foreigner, a eunuch, formerly forbidden from the assembly of the Lord, is baptized into Christ.

The Book of Acts is about the global spread of the Gospel after Jesus’ ascension, which includes people like this man previously excluded. So the Gospel goes to Ethiopia, which remains one of the most ancient centers of Christianity. It is carried there by a court official to the queen, a eunuch, an unlikely evangelist, who encountered God in an unlikely place. And Philip is witness to God doing a new thing, saving new people, beyond the religious, cultural, and political borders that had been held for millennia.
Read in this way, Nadia suggests, the Book of Acts is about the conversion, not just of outsiders, but also the people who were the closest to Jesus, who discover that this emerging Christian faith is not just a Galilean experience, a Jewish movement, but for the entire world.

So, who, exactly, is being converted in these stories? Continue reading


Jesus is the Pastor of this Church

Jesus the Good Shepherd from the Catacomb of Priscilla

A few weeks ago, Jenny and I took our kids into Boston to see the Big Apple Circus. It comes to town every year around April School Vacation, setting up its big tent at Government Center in City Hall plaza. We go every year and its always a great time.

You might think, quite reasonably, that getting four kids into the city, to the circus, (bringing, if you will, the circus to the circus) and back out again would be would be quite enough excitement for one day. And you’d probably be right. But this day we decided to press our luck.

After the circus, we took the kids down to Quincy Market for lunch. Of course, each person wanted something different to eat, so we navigated up and down that long food court, ferrying food, finding seats, making sure no one got swallowed up by the crowds. And again, you’d think that would be quite a full day. But no.

We then walked from Quincy Market to the Aquarium to see the sea lions in their outdoor tank, leading the kids across some of the busiest roads in the city, keeping them back from the curb, making sure they were crossing at the right time. And then, seemingly for good measure, we went past the boat docks with their drop offs down to the water. All for a few minutes with the sea lions…and then back along the same route to the car.

At the end of all that, I was totally exhausted. All the holding hands, calling names, keeping them away from the road, making sure they didn’t get lost at the Market. My goodness, it was a lot of work.

And it gave me a newfound appreciation for shepherds, doing this work every day, all day, herding all kinds of (less cooperative) sheep from place to place, keeping them in order, safe, and together. I only wish I had had one of those big shepherd’s hooks and a sheep dog to help keep my own little flock in line. Continue reading


Plunged Into Resurrection: Easter Sunday 2012



Each summer, my family heads north – to a lakeside cottage in the Gatineau Hills of Quebec. Its a great experience for our kids. They get to do all kinds of things they can’t in the city, like eating the raspberries that grow wild along the side of the gravel road.

One of the most delightful things is watching them swim in the lake and most especially watching them learn to jump off the dock into the water. Its like this little rite of passage for each of the kids. They start of tentatively, putting a foot in, climbing down the ladder, step in holding your hand, but then eventually they build up enough courage to let it rip and jump.

Just the other day I came across a picture of our daughter Tess, in which she is practicing her newfound skill jumping off the dock. She’s only two and a half years old. She has floaties strapped to her back, tiny pink water shoes to match her pink bathing suit. The photograph captures the exact moment her foot leaves the dock. She’s an inch in the air, arms, hands, and every finger extended (no coincidence it looks like a cross to me), seemingly suspended between the dock and the water.

And it occurred to me looking at this photograph: that this is an Easter moment. This is a moment of resurrection: where we leave behind the security of what we know – the dock – and jump into the something new – launching ourselves to the air, plunging down into the water, only to discover its embrace and then to be raised back up to its surface. Continue reading


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