What a world, we live in! Major economic, military, and psycho-spiritual forces are reshaping of our lives. Worldwide, inherited assumptions, alliances, and aspirations can, it seems, no longer be taken for granted. The ever-advancing use of AI is a potent expression, carrying a mass of uncertainties and unprecedented challenges, as well as breaking open fresh possibilities. No wonder our inherited faith traditions are at sea, where they are not simply in fundamentalist trauma or simple retreat. So how do we find real meaning today? Who are Christ’s followers to be today? And where are we headed? What, in other words, is our Story, our Identity, and our Calling, today? Let me open up some ways of reflecting upon such questions, with the assistance of three artworks, in relation to today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles (8.26-40). For at the heart of that text is a profound wrestling with the nature of divine story, spiritual identity, and sacred calling, in another powerful age of human transformation…
Luke's reshaping narratives
Firstly, a word or two about Luke. Wrestling with the nature of divine story, spiritual identity, and sacred calling is, of course, at the heart of the whole Bible. However, in some ways, Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles, is the greatest re-teller of all. Think of the most memorable stories in the New Testament. So many are to be found in Luke’s Gospel. Today’s story, with the Ethiopian Eunuch, is similarly memorable and revealing: sitting, as it does, alongside other key stories in the Acts of the Apostles, such as Paul’s conversion, Peter’s vision, and the reception of the Gentiles. Luke’s narratives are thus particularly helpful in assisting us to wrestle with changing times. In Luke’s day, not only what we now call Palestine-Israel, but the world around was being transformed by profound shifts in (especially Roman) political, economic, and military power. This was symbolised by the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the necessary radical re-shaping of what we now call Judaism and Christianity. People had to wrestle deeply with questions. such as: how was God’s story to be shared now? how was life-giving religious identity to be found now? And, how was sacred calling to be exercised now? - our kinds of questions!
Key to Luke’s re-telling of divine story, identity, and calling is the shift he makes in orientation. Instead of looking backward, or looking inward, Luke encourages his readers to look forward, and outward. God, he tells us, is doing new things, with new people, in new ways, in new places. Rather than God’s book being closed, we are in a new chapter. We are to move with God out of our old religious places into new ones, with new people. This is symbolised in the Acts of the Apostles by the journey Luke takes us from Jerusalem, the old centre of faith, to Rome, the centre of the new world. Our story is therefore to be a much larger one. Our identity is to be found not just in our particularity, our special characteristics, but in universality, in our relationship with all that exists. Our calling is not to be tied to particular ways, but is rather to be expressed in our sharing and receiving God’s love in everyone and everywhere. That is why, the story of the Ethiopian Eunuch not only centres on a traditional outsider in Luke’s world, but it is immediately preceded, and followed, by Philip’s preaching in the traditionally outsider territory of Samaria and other borderlands. In the very next chapter, we then have the story of Saul/Paul’s conversion, symbolising the shift in God’s story into the new and wider world. Whilst not giving us simple answers, Luke is thereby pointing us to key themes which will help us journey onward fruitfully.
Let us therefore look briefly at three pictures which express both aspects of today’s story and also different chapters in God’s continuing story. In doing so, perhaps we may then be encouraged, with God, to write the next chapters of our own lives, and of the world we share with others…
Firstly, a word or two about Luke. Wrestling with the nature of divine story, spiritual identity, and sacred calling is, of course, at the heart of the whole Bible. However, in some ways, Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles, is the greatest re-teller of all. Think of the most memorable stories in the New Testament. So many are to be found in Luke’s Gospel. Today’s story, with the Ethiopian Eunuch, is similarly memorable and revealing: sitting, as it does, alongside other key stories in the Acts of the Apostles, such as Paul’s conversion, Peter’s vision, and the reception of the Gentiles. Luke’s narratives are thus particularly helpful in assisting us to wrestle with changing times. In Luke’s day, not only what we now call Palestine-Israel, but the world around was being transformed by profound shifts in (especially Roman) political, economic, and military power. This was symbolised by the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the necessary radical re-shaping of what we now call Judaism and Christianity. People had to wrestle deeply with questions. such as: how was God’s story to be shared now? how was life-giving religious identity to be found now? And, how was sacred calling to be exercised now? - our kinds of questions!
Key to Luke’s re-telling of divine story, identity, and calling is the shift he makes in orientation. Instead of looking backward, or looking inward, Luke encourages his readers to look forward, and outward. God, he tells us, is doing new things, with new people, in new ways, in new places. Rather than God’s book being closed, we are in a new chapter. We are to move with God out of our old religious places into new ones, with new people. This is symbolised in the Acts of the Apostles by the journey Luke takes us from Jerusalem, the old centre of faith, to Rome, the centre of the new world. Our story is therefore to be a much larger one. Our identity is to be found not just in our particularity, our special characteristics, but in universality, in our relationship with all that exists. Our calling is not to be tied to particular ways, but is rather to be expressed in our sharing and receiving God’s love in everyone and everywhere. That is why, the story of the Ethiopian Eunuch not only centres on a traditional outsider in Luke’s world, but it is immediately preceded, and followed, by Philip’s preaching in the traditionally outsider territory of Samaria and other borderlands. In the very next chapter, we then have the story of Saul/Paul’s conversion, symbolising the shift in God’s story into the new and wider world. Whilst not giving us simple answers, Luke is thereby pointing us to key themes which will help us journey onward fruitfully.
Let us therefore look briefly at three pictures which express both aspects of today’s story and also different chapters in God’s continuing story. In doing so, perhaps we may then be encouraged, with God, to write the next chapters of our own lives, and of the world we share with others…
What do you see in the first picture?
Although it is a recent picture, produced in 2008 by Ann Chapin, this reflects some of the spirit of the Orthodox and Catholic traditions. As such, it is an icon with symbolic meaning. Each key feature seeks to be a kind of window into the life of God. It thus encourages us to reflect on various aspects of today’s story. Firstly, these include ‘the wilderness road from Jerusalem to Gaza’. Note how Luke directs us away from the old holy centre to the wider world. Today, we might, of course, understandably take this to encourage us to engage with the horrors of today’s Gaza, and other peoples blighted by inhumane violence. However, in Luke’s day, Gaza was actually a great, prosperous, and multicultural city. It therefore represents, like Luke’s Rome, a call to engage with the world as a whole, sharing God’s love in and between us all, with all our life-giving philosophies and ways of life. Secondly, as in the story, water is a vital contrast to the desert: water found not in the traditional religious wells, but wherever it is in God’s creation. Thirdly, we have five characters, together with a scroll. We could spend much time on each! Yet they are not separate. For the artist, like Luke, wants us to hold them together, since they belong together. Living faith, we are to see, is about belonging together, in the sharing of living water and living words. Well, maybe, AI chatbots might be able to help us in that. However, our icon, like Luke, affirms that true wisdom, and healthy ways forward, are discovered together, not in isolation.
Although it is a recent picture, produced in 2008 by Ann Chapin, this reflects some of the spirit of the Orthodox and Catholic traditions. As such, it is an icon with symbolic meaning. Each key feature seeks to be a kind of window into the life of God. It thus encourages us to reflect on various aspects of today’s story. Firstly, these include ‘the wilderness road from Jerusalem to Gaza’. Note how Luke directs us away from the old holy centre to the wider world. Today, we might, of course, understandably take this to encourage us to engage with the horrors of today’s Gaza, and other peoples blighted by inhumane violence. However, in Luke’s day, Gaza was actually a great, prosperous, and multicultural city. It therefore represents, like Luke’s Rome, a call to engage with the world as a whole, sharing God’s love in and between us all, with all our life-giving philosophies and ways of life. Secondly, as in the story, water is a vital contrast to the desert: water found not in the traditional religious wells, but wherever it is in God’s creation. Thirdly, we have five characters, together with a scroll. We could spend much time on each! Yet they are not separate. For the artist, like Luke, wants us to hold them together, since they belong together. Living faith, we are to see, is about belonging together, in the sharing of living water and living words. Well, maybe, AI chatbots might be able to help us in that. However, our icon, like Luke, affirms that true wisdom, and healthy ways forward, are discovered together, not in isolation.
Our second, somewhat different, picture is by Rembrandt, at the age of 20.
What do you see in it?
This picture displays a different world from ancient and medieval times. It reflects changes brought by the economic and political transformations of the early modern era, together with the Renaissance, and the Reformation. The emphasis is thus a humanist one, on the here and now. It is less concerned with symbolism and more with down to earth aspects of life. It also reflects some of the biases of modern centuries. Instead of distinctives in togetherness, we see hierarchies. Philip, likely a brown figure, becomes white, and the whiter figures are above, the darker ones below, with Western ‘natural’ features, including the dog with the eunuch, mixed in with more exotic ‘oriental’ features. Very significant here however, is the sheepskin. For it highlights another key verse in today’s story, the eunuch’s question about the Suffering Servant, the divine shepherd, whom they have read about in the scriptures, in the book of Isaiah. Like Luke, this reality, the picture is saying, is at the very heart of God’s story, our identity, and our calling. It is in our humble following of Christ, and putting on Christ in baptism, that we enter more fully into God’s story, discover our true identity, and our deepest and most fulfilling calling. Times and places may change, but this is the enduring focus and font of life.
What do you see in it?
This picture displays a different world from ancient and medieval times. It reflects changes brought by the economic and political transformations of the early modern era, together with the Renaissance, and the Reformation. The emphasis is thus a humanist one, on the here and now. It is less concerned with symbolism and more with down to earth aspects of life. It also reflects some of the biases of modern centuries. Instead of distinctives in togetherness, we see hierarchies. Philip, likely a brown figure, becomes white, and the whiter figures are above, the darker ones below, with Western ‘natural’ features, including the dog with the eunuch, mixed in with more exotic ‘oriental’ features. Very significant here however, is the sheepskin. For it highlights another key verse in today’s story, the eunuch’s question about the Suffering Servant, the divine shepherd, whom they have read about in the scriptures, in the book of Isaiah. Like Luke, this reality, the picture is saying, is at the very heart of God’s story, our identity, and our calling. It is in our humble following of Christ, and putting on Christ in baptism, that we enter more fully into God’s story, discover our true identity, and our deepest and most fulfilling calling. Times and places may change, but this is the enduring focus and font of life.
Here is a third, and for this morning, final picture.
What do you see in it?
This painting is by Paul Goodnight, a contemporary African American artist, who has used art to channel his life’s experiences: including the trauma of war, which left him literally voiceless. His art hence became his means of expression. It can thus encourage us to take heart, even when we are brought down or traumatised by life. We too, as Luke’s continuing divine story attests, can write a new chapter in our individual, and shared lives, finding fresh identity and purpose. The picture is also a wonderful contemporary icon which not only symbolises new and continuing possibilities of, life, but which encourages us to nurture a new unfolding dance, with all our diverse colours, shapes, and ways of being. Like the first picture, it offers us rich cosmic symbolism, even that of eucharistic communion. Yet it is also, like the second picture, grounded in our down-to-earth human realities. It also points us to another key verse in Luke’s story, namely that of the eunuch’s cry: ‘look, there is water’ (that is, new life), ‘what is there to stop me being baptised?’ And what is the answer to that? – nothing! There is nothing to stop any of us entering into the fullness of divine life – nothing. God’s story invites us all into love, which is our true identity and calling, whatever other identities we may have, and whatever other callings we may share that love in. That love is bound by no place, no time, and no human characteristics. Even when we feel like nothing, or that nothing works, or makes sense, God’s love is in all and with all.
a queer-ing story
That, in conclusion, is part of the centrality of the Ethiopian Eunuch in this story. There is so much more that could be said about them, some of which I will share in my address here this evening. But, to short, the Ethiopian Eunuch is a very queer figure indeed – and I use the word ‘queer’ quite advisedly: both as relating to what we have come to call ‘queer’ today, and something far, far, more. For, as scholars have long acknowledged, the Ethiopian Eunuch can simply not be pinned down. They are an ambiguous figure, in all kinds of ways: in terms of religious identity, class, sex, gender, dis/ability, power, money – everything really. However, whatever they, or we, are, we are all something – we know not what fully – in the love of God.
In the name and living presence of Christ, Amen.
by Josephine McDonnell Inkpin, for Tuggeranong Uniting Church, Sunday 10 August 2025
What do you see in it?
This painting is by Paul Goodnight, a contemporary African American artist, who has used art to channel his life’s experiences: including the trauma of war, which left him literally voiceless. His art hence became his means of expression. It can thus encourage us to take heart, even when we are brought down or traumatised by life. We too, as Luke’s continuing divine story attests, can write a new chapter in our individual, and shared lives, finding fresh identity and purpose. The picture is also a wonderful contemporary icon which not only symbolises new and continuing possibilities of, life, but which encourages us to nurture a new unfolding dance, with all our diverse colours, shapes, and ways of being. Like the first picture, it offers us rich cosmic symbolism, even that of eucharistic communion. Yet it is also, like the second picture, grounded in our down-to-earth human realities. It also points us to another key verse in Luke’s story, namely that of the eunuch’s cry: ‘look, there is water’ (that is, new life), ‘what is there to stop me being baptised?’ And what is the answer to that? – nothing! There is nothing to stop any of us entering into the fullness of divine life – nothing. God’s story invites us all into love, which is our true identity and calling, whatever other identities we may have, and whatever other callings we may share that love in. That love is bound by no place, no time, and no human characteristics. Even when we feel like nothing, or that nothing works, or makes sense, God’s love is in all and with all.
a queer-ing story
That, in conclusion, is part of the centrality of the Ethiopian Eunuch in this story. There is so much more that could be said about them, some of which I will share in my address here this evening. But, to short, the Ethiopian Eunuch is a very queer figure indeed – and I use the word ‘queer’ quite advisedly: both as relating to what we have come to call ‘queer’ today, and something far, far, more. For, as scholars have long acknowledged, the Ethiopian Eunuch can simply not be pinned down. They are an ambiguous figure, in all kinds of ways: in terms of religious identity, class, sex, gender, dis/ability, power, money – everything really. However, whatever they, or we, are, we are all something – we know not what fully – in the love of God.
In the name and living presence of Christ, Amen.
by Josephine McDonnell Inkpin, for Tuggeranong Uniting Church, Sunday 10 August 2025
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