The Memorial of Saint George
Then an angel of the Lord spoke to Philip, saying, "Arise, and go toward the south to the way that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza. This is a desert."
He arose and went; and behold, there was a man of Ethiopia, a eunuch of great authority under Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who was over all her treasure, who had come to Jerusalem to worship. He was returning and sitting in his chariot, and was reading the prophet Isaiah.
The Spirit said to Philip, "Go near, and join yourself to this chariot."
Philip ran to him, and heard him reading Isaiah the prophet, and said, "Do you understand what you are reading?"
He said, "How can I, unless someone explains it to me?" He begged Philip to come up and sit with him. Now the passage of the Scripture which he was reading was this, "He was led as a sheep to the slaughter. As a lamb before his shearer is silent, So he doesn't open his mouth. In his humiliation, his judgment was taken away. Who will declare His generation? For his life is taken from the earth."
The eunuch answered Philip, "Who is the prophet talking about? About himself, or about someone else?"
Philip opened his mouth, and beginning from this Scripture, preached to him about Jesus. As they went on the way, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, "Behold, here is water. What is keeping me from being baptized?"
He commanded the chariot to stand still, and they both went down into the water, both Philip and the eunuch, and he baptized him.
When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord caught Philip away, and the eunuch didn't see him any more, for he went on his way rejoicing. But Philip was found at Azotus. Passing through, he preached the Good News to all the cities until he came to Caesarea.
Praise our God, you peoples! Make the sound of his praise heard, Who preserves our life among the living, And doesn't allow our feet to be moved.
Come and hear, all you who fear God. I will declare what he has done for my soul. I cried to him with my mouth. He was extolled with my tongue.
Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, Nor his loving kindness from me.
No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him; and I will raise him up in the last day. It is written in the prophets, 'They will all be taught by God.' Therefore everyone who hears from the Father and has learned, comes to me. Not that anyone has seen the Father, except he who is from God. He has seen the Father. Most certainly, I tell you, he who believes in me has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness and they died. This is the bread which comes down out of heaven, that anyone may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread which came down out of heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. Yes, the bread which I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.
Saint George, the legendary dragon-slaying martyr of the fourth century, reminds us that courage in faith often means facing what seems impossible. His willingness to die rather than renounce Christ speaks to the kind of radical commitment we see unfolding in our readings.
Philip's encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch reveals something profound about how God works through us. Notice how Philip doesn't hesitate when the Spirit nudges him toward that chariot on a desert road. There's no strategic planning, no committee meeting—just immediate response to divine prompting. The eunuch's question cuts to the heart of our human condition: "How can I understand unless someone explains it to me?"
This moment captures the beautiful interdependence of faith. We need each other. The eunuch had wealth, power, and access to sacred texts, yet he needed Philip's companionship to unlock their meaning. Philip had the gift of interpretation, but he needed the eunuch's openness and hunger for truth.
What emerges is a pattern we see throughout Scripture: God draws people to himself through other people. The Father draws us to Jesus, as the Gospel reminds us, but often through human encounters that seem almost accidental. That conversation with a colleague, the kindness of a stranger, the patient explanation of a friend—these become sacramental moments where divine invitation meets human response.
The Ethiopian's joy as he continues his journey reflects what happens when we truly encounter the living bread Jesus offers. Unlike the manna that sustained for a day, this bread transforms us from within, giving us something worth sharing with the next person we meet on the road.
How might God be prompting us to approach someone today who's searching for understanding? What questions are we carrying that need the wisdom of another believer? Where do we notice the Father drawing hearts toward his Son?