The ICE Entrance at 26 Federal Plaza. Photo by Kevin Ritter-Jung
Twenty-five years ago, before I was ordained as an ELCA pastor, I began my evangelistic ministry as a Synodical Deacon. From the very beginning, my inspiration has come from Deacon Philip.
In the book of Acts, Philip is presented to the apostles to be appointed as a deacon, called to go out into the community and serve. (He is presented alongside other deacons as well: Stephen, Procorus, Nicanor, Tion, Parmenas, and Nicolas of Antioch.)
Philip was a man who listened to God. When the angel of the Lord told him to go south, to the desert road, he did not ask, “Why?” or, “What’s the plan?” or, “Who else is coming with me?” He simply went. Scripture doesn’t even tell us if he packed a bag. He just went.
That road was not a safe place. The desert held dangers — snakes, scorpions, locusts, predators of every kind. But God wasn’t asking Philip for preparedness; God was asking for willingness. God took care of the rest.
In my years of ministry, I have found this to be true over and over again. Every time I thought I had the “right” strategy — new programs, new gatherings, new initiatives within the walls of the church — God had other plans. God has continually called me out of my comfort zone, sending me again and again to the “desert road,” the places where fear and danger dwell, where people also hunger for hope.
I have found myself preaching the Gospel of the resurrected Christ at ICE interviews in 26 Federal Plaza in New York City. I have shared the good news at the bodega near my home where neighborhood kids gather and at Zoom memorials for families unable to attend in-person funerals because of their undocumented status. I have preached to complete strangers who did not share my language, my culture, or my Christian faith.
Each of these moments has reminded me: the Spirit of God is already at work in the desert. There are people waiting — sometimes with Scripture in their hands like the Ethiopian eunuch Philip met, sometimes simply with questions in their hearts.
I share this with you because I am convinced that God is calling you, too. God is calling us beyond the walls of the church, out of our comfort zones, into the unknown places of our neighborhoods and communities. As unprepared as we may feel, we are asked to go and wait — for the person who needs to hear our story, for the one who needs to be assured that Jesus loves them.
It doesn’t have to be perfect, rehearsed, or eloquent. What matters is our willingness. Outside these walls there are countless people thirsty for truth, longing for the immeasurable, extravagant love of God. And God is sending us — today — to meet them on the desert road.
By The Rev. Patricia Avila
Assistant to the Bishop for Congregational Life and Evangelism