Eunuch

There is a story in Acts 8 about Philip's conversation with an Ethiopian. The Bible tells us this man was a high-ranking official in charge of all the treasure of Queen Candace. It also tells us the man was a eunuch. And the way it tells us this, it leads us to believe that they are one and the same. Let's not fool ourselves: a high-ranking official in charge of all the treasure is a trusted man.

A eunuch is a castrated one.

It's a great deal to be a trusted man, particularly in the queen's palace. Indeed, this man lived the high life. He rode on chariots, which is where Philip crossed his path. He was free to travel to another country to worship, which is the journey he was on. He'd have no overseers, no watchdogs. He was the watchdog. At his fingertips were treasures unknown to common men, the treasures of the queen herself. He knew luxury. He knew honor. He lived in the midst of it all.

But none of it was his. He...was nothing more than a slave. A trusted slave. Higher than, say, a brick-making slave. But still just a slave. How do I know? Because other than perhaps the most heinous of sexual criminals, slaves were the men who were castrated. And young.

Slaves were castrated at a young age for one simple reason - to take away their urge to ever love anyone else. Slaves were meant to love their masters, to love the service they performed in the work of their masters, to love faithfully their masters' households. They were meant to be broken, to conform to the masters' wishes. There's no guarantee that a castrated man will never fall in love. Love is, after all, a matter of the heart (or it's meant to be...) but castration ensured that his other love could never lead to life. He would never have a son. Never have a daughter. Never have an heir. Whatever belonged to him would always come back to his master, for there would be no one else to pass it on to. Which means that for the duration of his life, he was working for his master's household. Wholly and fully. 

Tied to the treasure but not allowed to touch it.

I think for too long, I misunderstood this story of the Bible. The way it's written, I always imagined Philip talking to this influential character from Ethiopia, talking to this leader, talking to this man that the people of the region would listen to and follow. I thought Philip was converting a leader, who would then lead his people to Christ. 

It doesn't seem as glamorous to say he was a slave. Philip spent his time with a slave. A single slave, in a nation of slaves, was baptized and believed. It's nice, but...yawn. Why does God share with us the story of a simple slave?

Because it's more than that. It's not this man's status that is the focus of this story; it is his state. Philip shared Christ's message with a lover.

That's who the eunuch was. He was a lover, longing for something in this world to give his heart to, pained that there was no way for that love to turn to life. Yet in this aching heart, he held an image of Love Himself. We know that because he was on a journey to worship. Since he didn't know the message of Christ, probably a Jew. Then Philip tells him this story of a Divine Lover, who has come and walked amidst this very region, and the eunuch's heart is taken. This is a place where he can put his love...and that love will give life. It's maybe all he's ever wanted.

I liked this story when the eunuch was a high-ranking official. And maybe he did have some circle of influence that helped spread this message through Ethiopia. Maybe Queen Candace heard the name of Christ from this man. Who knows? 

I don't like this story as much when the eunuch is just a slave. Although that's exactly what he was. (And remember, this is wholly possible. Joseph was also both a high-ranking official and a slave.) It doesn't have a lot of consequence to hear the story of a single slave.

But I love this story when I realize the eunuch is a lover. Because that's what so many of us are. We're lovers. We're longing for our love to invest in life, and yet this world is a cruel master. It demands our loyalty. It begs our trust. It longs for us to take all we have and give it back to this place, so that all we have, all we work for, all we do, is for the sake of the world. It tells us we can't have life without it, that any other love would be fruitless. It ties us to the treasure but never lets us touch it. It strips man of his very manhood.

I want to touch the treasure. I want another love. I want a love that leads to life, and I can have it. It's in Christ. That's the message of the eunuch. I love it.