Abraham Lincoln always read aloud to himself, and sometimes I read aloud to myself. In the Bible a very important moment is facilitated by a man reading aloud to himself while sitting in a chariot. The incident was both natural and supernatural: Now an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Go south. . . from Jerusalem to Gaza. So he started out and on his way he met an Ethiopian, an important official in charge of the treasury of the queen of Ethiopia. . . Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading aloud from Isaiah the prophet. “Do you understand what you are reading?” Philip asked. “How can I,” he said, “unless someone explains it to me?” So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him. (Acts 26-31)

Of all the post resurrection events, this is one of the most appealing. Two men from different nations sat in a chariot and talked about God and His son. One of the two was responding to the angel’s instructions and the other received Jesus as his savior and was baptized. The angel was necessary for Philip’s errand, but the Ethiopian’s reading of the scripture aloud was also necessary for Philip to know and do his errand. It seems that God intends His people to participate with angels in the work of salvation, and nowhere is it more vividly displayed than on this road from Jerusalem to Gaza, between two men who would probably never see each other again, but whose lives had both been changed.

Enabling the natural and the supernatural to work together is a gift of the Holy Spirit. It can be seen in the Old as well as the New testament. The story of the Exodus combines the natural and the supernatural, both in God’s hands. In the New Testament, the story of Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand from one boy’s lunch is the combination of the natural and the supernatural. When this is evident the effect is lasting, for, as with Philip and the Ethiopian, the supernatural hand holds the natural hand to reveal the Savior who is also our creator God of nature.

Around the year 387, St. Augustine’s conversion occurred when he heard a child’s voice on the other side of a wall singing, “Take up and read. Take up and read.” Augustine took up the book of Romans and was converted: How sweet it suddenly became to be free of the sweets of folly. Things that I once feared to lose it was now my joy to put away. . . You, the true and highest sweetness, you cast them forth, and in their stead you entered in, sweeter than every pleasure. (Confessions 9,1)

I sometimes wonder if anyone can overhear me reading scripture aloud to myself, and then I know, of course, Someone always hears.

Love in Him,

Prue