Sermon
Today our worship feels special. We’re celebrating both Mother’s Day and our high school seniors. You may see a few proud moms wipe away some tears as they watch their kids grow up. Our seniors might feel both excited and nervous about what comes next after graduation.
Significant milestones in our life sometimes come as unexpected detours. Perhaps you’ve experienced a sudden change in plans, such as receiving a call from a friend in need just as you were about to start on a new project, or discovering a new path while taking a walk. Have you ever encountered something unexpected that ultimately turned out to be pivotal in your life?
In our Bible reading today, we meet Philip. He was doing great ministry work when God suddenly told him to go down a desert road instead. This seemed like a strange detour, but it led to one of the most important meetings in the early church. Philip’s story shows us how God often works through unexpected changes—the very detours we might not understand at first. As our seniors get ready for their next steps and as moms navigate changing relationships with their children, this ancient story has something important to say to all of us.
This is the first sermon in our new series “Resurrection People: Living Faith in Times of Change.” When facing change, we often cling to what feels familiar and safe. But Easter calls us to something different—living by faith rather than fear. Over the next several weeks, we’ll explore how the early church navigated radical transitions by embracing Christ’s love and Spirit-led courage.
In this series, we’ll journey from Philip’s unexpected appointment to Paul’s dramatic transformation, discovering how God works through periods of significant change. As our own congregation experiences pastoral transition over the next several months, these stories illuminate how resurrection faith empowers us to move forward with hope, trusting that the same God who raised Jesus continues calling us into new seasons of ministry.
Today’s story of Philip and the Ethiopian official sets the foundation for our entire series, showing how God often works most powerfully through unexpected detours and divine interruptions. When Philip followed the Spirit’s prompting to that desert road, he couldn’t have imagined how this single encounter would help expand the gospel’s reach across cultural and geographic boundaries.
Throughout church history, we see this pattern repeating—pivotal moments when following God’s direction against conventional wisdom transforms not just individual lives but entire faith communities. One such moment occurred in 1521, when a monk named Martin Luther stood trembling before the most powerful religious authorities of his day. The Holy Roman Emperor and church officials demanded a public change of mind on his writings challenging church practices, or he’d be excommunicated and possibly executed.
Luther had spent the previous night in intense prayer, likely an agonizing experience. Everything was at stake—his reputation, his freedom, his very life. All he needed to say was “I change my mind,” and he could return to his comfortable life as a professor. The pressure must have been overwhelming.
When asked directly if he would take back what he had written, Luther requested time to consider. The next day, surrounded by his accusers and standing before piles of his banned books, Luther faced his decisive moment. I imagine that his voice first wavered, then strengthened as he declared, “Unless I am convinced by Scripture and plain reason, my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here I stand. I can do no other.”
In the days that followed, Luther went into hiding as a wanted man. Yet his courageous choice sparked the Protestant Reformation that would transform Christianity, placing Scripture into ordinary people’s hands for the first time.
Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8, like Luther’s pivotal decision, decisively shaped the early church’s expansion beyond cultural boundaries. So, let me explain the context and significance of this remarkable passage.
Acts 8:26-39 takes place around the year 35, just a few years after Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. The Roman Empire controlled the Mediterranean world, including Judea and Samaria where the early Christians lived. At this time, Christianity was still considered a sect within Judaism, not a separate religion.
The passage occurs during a period of persecution. After Stephen’s martyrdom in Acts 7, believers scattered from Jerusalem. Philip, one of seven deacons chosen to serve the community, had been successfully preaching in Samaria—an area traditionally despised by Jews. Samaritans, a people group often marginalized for their mixed heritage and different religious traditions, were responding to Philip’s message, marking the first expansion of the gospel beyond strictly Jewish communities.
This encounter sits strategically in Acts between the Samaritan revival and Paul’s conversion. Luke, the author of Acts, carefully structures his narrative to show how the gospel moves outward from Jerusalem in widening circles, just as Jesus had predicted in Acts 1:8:
“[Where Jesus said,] Rather, you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”
Luke uses several distinct literary devices. He emphasizes divine direction through phrases like “An angel from the Lord spoke” and “The Spirit told Philip,” highlighting that this unlikely meeting was orchestrated by God, not human planning. The Ethiopian’s reading of Isaiah creates a perfect teaching opportunity, showing how the Hebrew scriptures pointed to Jesus.
The passage reveals God’s inclusive vision for the church. The Ethiopian was a foreigner and a eunuch—a man who had been castrated, often for service in royal courts—which meant he was physically excluded from full participation in Jewish worship according to Deuteronomy 23:1. Yet despite these barriers, he was earnestly seeking God. Philip’s willingness to engage with him broke down multiple social boundaries in a single encounter.
This connects powerfully with Isaiah 56:5, where God promises eunuchs “a name better than sons and daughters.” The Ethiopian’s baptism fulfills this promise, demonstrating that the gospel goes beyond physical, national, and cultural boundaries.
This passage shows how God often works through unexpected detours and barrier-crossing relationships to expand the reach of grace. Philip’s willingness to follow God’s prompting led to one of the first Gentile conversions, pointing toward the church’s global future and reminding us that God’s family embraces those that religious systems often exclude.
The way that God is at work in these seemingly random encounters reveals something profound about how God operates in our world. John Wesley, who founded the Methodist movement in 18th century England, described this as “prevenient grace”—God’s love actively working ahead of our awareness, preparing hearts and creating opportunities for response even before we recognize them.
This passage beautifully illustrates this concept. Before Philip arrived, God was already working in the Ethiopian’s life, drawing him to Scripture and creating spiritual hunger. The official’s journey to Jerusalem, his possession of Isaiah’s scroll, and his earnest questions reveal grace already active before any evangelistic encounter. Wesley taught that God’s prevenient grace operates in every person’s life, preparing the way for faith encounters, similar to how the Spirit orchestrated this desert meeting.
The story also reflects Wesley’s balanced understanding of God’s initiative and human response. God directs Philip to the desert road, but Philip must choose to obey. The Spirit positions the Ethiopian with the perfect passage, but the man must ask his questions. God arranges the encounter, but both individuals must participate actively in it. This theological perspective creates a healthy balance—it recognizes that God initiates the spiritual journey while also affirming that our human choices really matter. This helps us avoid two extremes: either believing our decisions are meaningless because everything is predetermined, or thinking salvation depends entirely on our own efforts without God’s help.
Philip’s experience on that desert road mirrors the spiritual crossroads some of us face in our own lives. While our settings are different, the fundamental decision points often feel remarkably similar.
Initial faith commitments often arise during life transitions—like graduates wondering about their purpose beyond academic achievement or someone facing a health crisis that prompts deeper questions about meaning. These moments typically involve difficult questions: “What if following Jesus means changing my relationships or weekend priorities?” “How will my family react if I commit to faith?” “What if I fail at living out what I believe?”
For long-time believers, deciding to recommit to faith frequently emerge during life’s middle chapters. Parents watching children leave home might reassess what their faith means beyond family routines built around church activities. Career-focused followers of Jesus advancing into leadership positions might suddenly question whether their professional choices align with their spiritual values. Following a difficult church experience or painful experiences with other Christians, some may face the crossroad of recommitting despite disappointment. These decision points may arise quietly, without dramatic crisis, making them easy to postpone indefinitely.
Specific decisions about obeying God can challenge both new and long time believers. In our consumption-driven culture, choosing generosity over financial security requires real courage—like deciding to give consistently even when facing college expenses or retirement concerns. In our polarized society, loving people with different political perspectives often means choosing uncomfortable conversations over trying to protect ourselves with silence. In our busy live, creating genuine Sabbath practices means setting boundaries that friends and family might not understand.
These decision points don’t require perfect clarity before we move forward. Philip didn’t receive a complete roadmap—just the next step toward what would become a life-changing encounter. Similarly, God’s presence travels with us through our uncertainties, providing guidance for each step when we’re willing to move forward in faith.
The good news is that God’s transforming grace both enables and responds to our decisions of faith. Philip’s encounter with the Ethiopian official reveals a God who orchestrates divine appointments before we ever recognize them. Like the carefully arranged meeting on that desert road, God’s prevenient grace works ahead of our awareness, preparing hearts and creating opportunities for transformation.
Throughout scripture, we see this pattern of God’s initiative followed by human response. From Abraham’s call to leave his homeland, to Moses at the burning bush, to Saul’s encounter on the Damascus road—God always moves first. The Ethiopian official was already seeking, already reading Isaiah’s words, already drawn toward truth before Philip arrived. This reflects the beautiful truth that our choices for faith never originate with us but always respond to grace already extended.
When we step forward in faith like Philip leaving his successful ministry for an uncertain road, God’s presence travels with us through every challenge. Notice how the Spirit guided Philip at each turn—directing him to the road, prompting him to approach the chariot, giving him words to explain scripture. This same Spirit empowers us beyond our limited willpower, making transformation possible that exceeds our own capabilities.
Even when our commitment wavers—when we question the journey or consider turning back—God’s grace continues. The story isn’t primarily about our perfect faithfulness but about God’s perfect faithfulness to us.
Those who respond to divine appointments discover meaning and purpose that redefine life’s journey. Like the Ethiopian who “went on his way rejoicing,” decisive faith brings joy despite real costs. Your detours can become destinations when guided by God’s love.
Wherever you are today as you hear this message, God meets you exactly where you are. So, I want to make a few invitations for you to consider based on where you might find yourself:
If you’re exploring faith, you might consider scheduling coffee with a Christian friend who lives their faith authentically and ask them your honest questions. Read the book of Luke, which tells the stories of Jesus, a chapter each day.
If you’re ready for a commitment, you can pray a simple prayer expressing your decision to follow Jesus. Come talk to me about baptism or our next chance to join the church at New Member Sunday.
If you’re recommitting to your faith or to the church, you might write a personal promise outlining specific areas for renewal. Ask a trusted friend to check in with you each week about your spiritual practices.
Remember, growth happens one step at a time—what matters isn’t perfect timing but faithful movement.
Life’s detours often reveal their purpose only when looking back, just like Philip discovered on that desert road. Whether you’re graduating and wondering what’s next, changing careers amid uncertainty, or simply questioning if your current path aligns with God’s direction, today’s invitation remains: will you respond to the Spirit’s guidance toward divine appointments? The question isn’t whether God is orchestrating encounters—it’s whether we’ll follow, even when the destination seems unclear.
Will you pray with me?
God of unexpected journeys, help us recognize your guiding presence in life’s detours. Give us Philip’s courage to follow promptings that don’t make sense and open our eyes to divine appointments you’ve arranged. Thank you for your patient love that continues calling us forward. Amen.
In crafting today’s sermon, I employed AI assistants like Claude and Apple Intelligence, yet the ultimate responsibility for its content rests with me. These tools offered valuable perspectives, but the most influential sermon preparation hinges on biblical study, theological insight, personal reflection, and divine guidance. I see AI as a supportive aid to enrich the sermon process while ensuring my own voice in proclaiming the Word of God.
Rev. Andrew Conard 