Introduction
      Have you ever had a chance encounter with someone who changed your life?  Was it only in hindsight that you began to realize that God had your paths cross for a purpose?  Was it only then that you come to an awareness of a divine appointment?
      When I was a freshman at the University of Georgia, the day I moved into the dorm another student down the hall invited me to join him and his roommate in going to a Hardee’s hamburger joint in order to grab something to eat.  I jumped at the chance because I was desperate to meet new people.  As we ate, this same guy introduced me to another new student with whom he had attended high school in a suburb in north Atlanta and who just happened to be getting something to eat, too.  His name was Robert Jackson. 
      That chance encounter with Robert would eventually change my life forever, because over the next few weeks my conversations with Robert about Christianity led to a renewal in my commitment to Christ.  Over the next four years I grew like a weed in a greenhouse in my love for Jesus Christ – all because of a chance encounter with a kid from Dunwoody at a Hardee’s hamburger joint.  That meeting was a divine appointment.
      This morning we read of two other people who experienced a divine appointment, and it would change their lives forever, too.  As we consider these things, I want you to notice: the response of Philip to the call of God; the spiritual hunger of the Ethiopian eunuch; and the lessons we can learn for our lives today.

I. The Response of Philip to the Call of God
      Two weeks ago in our previous study in Acts, we learned of the way in which Philip the deacon became Philip the evangelist.  He proclaimed the good news of Jesus Christ in a city in Samaria, and many came to know the Lord.  Peter and John came up from Jerusalem and put their apostolic approval on this cross-cultural work of God.  Soon after the departure of Peter and John, we are told that Philip was given another mission.  He was told by an angel of the Lord to go south to the desert road that goes between Jerusalem and Gaza.  It was a road that stretched through the desert for about 60 miles.  Gaza is the most southerly of the five Philistine cities, and it is near the Mediterranean coast.  As Philip walked along the road, he met a eunuch from Ethiopia.
      Philip responded to the call of God, and he was attentive to the leading of the Holy Spirit.  But at first glance, in many ways it made no sense at all.  Why leave such a great ministry in Samaria in order to be with one person?  Why leave the city to go into the desert?  Things were really hopping in Samaria.  It was the first time the gospel had crossed cultural and racial barriers.  Many were coming to Christ, and miracles were happening right and left.  Why leave now?  But God’s call was unmistakable, and so Philip responded in obedience, trusting that God would continue the work in Samaria through others.  He left a large ministry in order to be with one person.
      Harold Hughes was a distinguished senator from the state of Iowa in the latter part of the last century.  He even ran for President in 1971.  Harold served effectively in the senate for a number of years, and he was one of the key followers of Christ who began the Christian fellowship within and around Capitol Hill that continues to this day.  However, in 1975 he chose not to run again for his seat in the senate, because he felt that God was calling him to minister to one man who was struggling with alcoholism.  You see, Harold Hughes was himself a recovering alcoholic, and he had experienced God's touch in his own life.  The great senator announced, "I'm going to resign in order to be with this one man."  Many people thought that this must be a very important person for Hughes to resign such a great position of influence in order to be with one man.  However, when he was asked about it, Harold Hughes said, "No, he is really a political nobody, but I feel called to be with that one."[1] 
      I also think of Henri Nouwen, the great Catholic theologian and writer who died in 1996.  At the height of his academic popularity, Nouwen made a remarkable move.  He went from being a professor at Harvard to serving a community for handicapped people in Toronto, called Daybreak.  He went from teaching the best and the brightest to serving a small group of physically and mentally challenged people in Canada. 
      Nouwen gave a talk about it at Harvard a year or so after he had been with Daybreak to tell them what his experience had been like.  At Daybreak he was called an “assistant.”  His only assignment, like that of the three others serving with him, was to care for six handicapped people in his family unit.  An epileptic young man named Adam was his special assignment.  The priest bathed, shaved, dressed, and cared for Adam’s needs.  After a seizure, Nouwen had to bathe and soothe Adam until the trauma passed.  And in Adam, Nouwen said he saw God’s unqualified love for a person who can neither produce nor perform. 
      When I think about the willingness of Harold Hughes and Henri Nouwen to make these kinds of sacrifices, these kinds of commitments, it pulls me up short.  I have to ask myself, “Am I willing to respond to God's call like that?  Would I be willing to make that kind of sacrifice?”  We are all drawn to the crowds.  We like to be where the action is.  We love stories of when hundreds of people respond to the truth of the gospel.  But then I read about Harold Hughes, or Henri Nouwen, or Philip the evangelist, or the shepherd who left the 99 in order to seek after the one lost sheep.  God’s math and His economy are very different from yours and mine, and each of us needs to develop a willingness to heed His call, whether it is to the multitudes in Samaria or the one on the road to Gaza.
      Are you trying to discern God’s call for your life?  Have you turned your ears to listen for His voice?  And if He calls you to leave the limelight and go to the desert, if He sends you away from the multitudes to minister to the one, are you ready to make that sacrifice and heed that call? 

II.  The Spiritual Hunger of the Ethiopian Eunuch
      As Philip traveled on that desert road, the Holy Spirit told him to go up to a particular chariot and to stay near it.  Philip ran up to the chariot, and when he did so he heard this eunuch from Ethiopia reading aloud from the book of Isaiah.  It was the common practice in antiquity that whenever you read, you read aloud.  Philip asked the man, "Do you understand what you are reading?"
      Here is a great scene in Scripture.  Philip is walking down the desert road not sure why the Lord has him out there.  Then the Holy Spirit tells him to go up to the chariot in which the Ethiopian was riding and to stay near it.  He runs up alongside the chariot, hears the man reading aloud from the book of Isaiah, and asks breathlessly, "So, whatcha readin'?"  Try doing that the next time you run the Bolder Boulder!
      Who was this man in the chariot, and why was he reading from the prophet Isaiah?  The Bible tells us that he was a eunuch from Ethiopia, an important official who was in charge of the treasury of Candace, the queen of the Ethiopians.  Candace was actually a traditional title for the queen mother, who was responsible for performing all the secular duties of the reigning king.  Today we would perhaps call this man the Secretary of the Treasury for Ethiopia.  The text also tells us that he had gone to Jerusalem to worship and was on his way back home.  We are never given the man’s name, so we are forced to see him only as Philip did – by categories.  He was black, he was a foreigner, and he was a eunuch, a man who had been emasculated, for what reason we do not know.  Even though he was an important official, the guy had three strikes against him from a Jewish point of view.
      When Philip asked the man, "Do you understand what you are reading?" the eunuch replied, "How can I unless someone explains it to me?"  Notice the humility of this man from Ethiopia.  So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him in his chariot.  The eunuch went on to ask Philip, "Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about, himself or someone else?"  The passage he read was from Isaiah 53 which speaks of the Suffering Servant where it says, “He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a lamb before the shearer is silent, so he did not open his mouth.  In his humiliation he was deprived of justice.  Who can speak of his descendents?  For his life was taken from the earth” (8:32-33). 
      Now, why in the world do you think this eunuch would be so interested in this particular passage about one who was humiliated and without descendents?  My friend Craig Barnes[2] has pointed out that according to Deuteronomy 23, Hebrew Law did not allow a eunuch to enter holy places.  Remember, this man had just come from the Temple in Jerusalem.  He went there to worship, but they wouldn’t let him in.  He traveled all that way to Jerusalem to worship, but he was stuck outside because he wasn’t good enough. Imagine coming here to church one Sunday morning, only to discover that you aren’t good enough to get inside.  There is something wrong with you.  So you stand outside and ask the people as they leave what it was like because you are dying for a word from God.
      I suspect that if you and I are honest with ourselves, and if we realize just Whose house we have wandered into on this Sunday, we would all wonder, “What am I doing here?”  None of us are clean enough, or good enough, or whole enough to be here.  We all fall short.  Perhaps you look around at others in this sanctuary who look pretty good, and you think to yourself, “Well, she belongs here, but not me.  I don’t have a great family like they do over in that pew.  I don’t really have anyone to love.  I haven’t for years.  I’m not a eunuch, but I might as well be.  How can I fit in here?  I’m not even sure I believe all the things the church believes.  And I’m sure I can’t make my life right, because I’m in too deep, and I have made too many mistakes.  If everyone knew the truth about me, they’d throw me out of here, too.”  My friend, trust me on this.  Everyone in this sanctuary is saying a quiet “Amen” right now.  We all feel that way to one extent or another.
      As Philip began to interpret Isaiah 53 to the Ethiopian eunuch, he related the prophet’s description of Jesus Christ.  Jesus was despised and rejected of men.  He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was brought upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.  Jesus had no children, He had no descendents, but as our Messiah and Savior, He created a whole new family of faith with His Father in heaven where there is room for us all.
      In Isaiah 56, the prophet went on to describe some of the changes that would occur in the house of the Lord when the Messiah came.  Isaiah wrote, “In that day, the foreigner will no longer be separated.  In that day, the eunuch who loves me shall have a name written in my house, and my covenant, which shall be better than a thousand sons and daughters, will be remembered forever” (Is. 56:3).  What good news this must have been to this man from Ethiopia, and what good news it is for you and me!
      My friend, your name is written on the spiritual walls of this church.  You belong in the family of God.  It has nothing to do with your limitations, your sins, or your hurts.  It has nothing to do with the family you had growing up.  It has everything to do with the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross of Calvary, where He was dying to make you a part of God’s family.
      As Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch traveled along the road, they came to some water, and the eunuch asked Philip to baptize him.  The man was ready to make a commitment to Christ right there on the spot.  And so the chariot was stopped, Philip and the eunuch waded into the water, and the evangelist baptized the new follower of Christ.  When they came out, a black man and a white man became brothers, and a little more hope entered the world.  Would that all of us had the spiritual hunger of this eunuch from Ethiopia.

III.  Lessons We Can Learn For Our Lives Today
      There are several lessons you and I can learn from this story as we think about our own discipleship, especially as it relates to how to share our faith with others.  First, this story reminds us to be flexible in our schedules.  God has unexpected blessings for us whenever we are open to His leading, and we need to learn that an interruption may actually be a divine appointment.  Hold your days loosely, and give the Holy Spirit some wiggle room as you make your plans for the future.
      Second, this story reminds us that we need to take the initiative in talking to people about Christ.  Philip had to run up alongside the chariot and ask the eunuch a question.  He had to take the initiative.  Many Christians hope that their lives will show their love for the Lord and that words aren’t necessary to tell people about Jesus.  They keep waiting for their friends to bring up the subject, but it doesn’t happen.  Many times we’ve got to take the initiative and break the sound barrier and ask the leading question. 
      Third, this story portrays the value of a person coming alongside a seeker.  Philip entered the eunuch’s world, and he got up into his chariot.  As fishers of men, if you and I want to catch fish, we’ve got to go to where the fish are.  We can’t wait for them to come to us.  And we must learn to come alongside people and meet them where they are in our attempt to lead them to Christ.  That is what incarnational ministry is all about.  It is coming alongside people on their terms and on their turf.
      Finally, the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch reminds us that we need to learn to ask good questions.  All too often in our efforts to share the gospel with people who don’t know the Lord, we do most of the talking and try to cram in too much information.  We need to learn to listen, and we need to become better at asking good questions. 
      I’ll never forget the time when I was in college and my father asked me why I thought I had become passionate in my faith in Christ whereas my brothers at that time had not.  I wasn’t sure where my father stood with Christ, so I saw this as my one shot to win him to the Lord.  I proceeded to back up the dump truck of the gospel and unloaded my whole spiel on my dad regarding who Jesus was, why He came to die for our sins, and so on.  A few minutes into my diatribe, my father interrupted me and quietly said, “You didn’t answer my question, son,” and it was clear the conversation was over.  I missed my chance to come alongside my father and share my faith in a way that he could understand.  In my zeal I was insensitive, and on this Father’s day I still have great regret.
      Let’s look at the example of Philip as we seek to share our faith with others.  Let’s be flexible in our schedules, willing to take the initiative, incarnational in our witness, and effective in the questions we ask.  God wants to use us to plant seeds of faith in others, just like He did Philip.

Conclusion
      Two different men from different faiths, different cultures, and different races were traveling in different directions. But God had a very different idea.  He brought them together for a divine appointment, and the world would never be the same again.  When the Ethiopian eunuch returned home, he started a family.  Oh, not a biological family, but a spiritual one.  You see, the Christian church in Ethiopia grew and grew and grew until in the 4^th century Christianity became the official religion of the Ethiopian nation, and Ethiopia became the longest standing continuously Christian nation in the history of the world until 1974 and the fall of Emperor Haillie Sellassie. 
      Even today, African Christianity is the most dynamic and fastest growing branch of the Christian church in the world, and I believe it all started with a conversation one day between two men in the middle of the desert on the road to Gaza.  If you believe in divine appointments, then there are no ordinary conversations, there are no ordinary people, and there are no ordinary days.  You may be talking to a co-worker, or a classmate, or a stranger on the road.  Maybe you take a wrong turn and get off schedule and you run into someone unexpectedly.  All of a sudden, God’s presence fills the moment.  Put aside your PalmPilot.  Get ready for a divine appointment.  God may have something wonderful in store for you.  Amen.