Easter 7A
June 1, 2014
Acts 1:6-11
This past Thursday, the Church
recognizes the story of Jesus’ ascension into heaven. Because it never falls on
a Sunday, always the Thursday 40 days after Easter, it is easy to gloss over
it. How many of you were familiar with the story of Jesus’ ascension, beyond
just that it happened? … Well, it’s not one I had spent much time on, so I
couldn’t have recounted all the details that we heard in our Acts story. The
short version of the whole story, just so you’re aware of the context here, is
that after Jesus rose from the dead on Easter, he spent 40 days on earth
hanging out with the disciples and teaching them about the kingdom of God. Then
he ascended into heaven – that’s the story we hear today – and then 10 days
later (that’s next Sunday) we celebrate Pentecost, the coming of the promised
Holy Spirit.
So today, let’s dig more into that
ascension part of the story, and let’s do that in three parts: looking back, looking up, and looking out.
First, looking back: At the beginning of today’s passage, the disciples
come together and ask Jesus, “So, Jesus, is it time yet? Is now the time that
you’re finally going to restore Israel?” This had been their hope for the
Messiah all along, you see. When the Messiah came, they thought, it would be
with power. He would destroy and tear down the oppressive Roman government, and
bring Israel back to her former glory, like it was under King David. What they
got instead was a baby in a manger, someone who spent time with outcasts, and
told strange stories and told them to do things like turn the other cheek. But
now that Jesus had done all this teaching and healing and whatnot, and died,
and now rose again – surely now he
was finally going to do what a Messiah should do, and restore Israel to her
former glory, bringing them back to “the good ol’ days.”
Their desire is not such a far cry
from the church today, is it? Just as the first century Jews longed for a kingdom
like when David was king, we are a people who often long for the better days of
the past. How many of us have, at one time or another said, “When is the church
going to be like it was back when all the Sunday School rooms were full? Remember
Luther League, and how involved the youth were then? When will we be restored
to the glory days, when we had this or that pastor, or this or that kind of
worship service, when we had people filling our pews every Sunday, and we had
so many wonderful ministries? When will it be like the good ol’ days?” It’s not just in the church, either. We often
glorify the past. “Back when I was growing up, children respected their
elders.” “Back in the day, we didn’t have nearly so much gun violence as there
is now.” “What is happening to this world? It used to be so much better.” The
disciples are like us – looking back
to good times, and wanting those good times to return – even if, if we’re
honest, the goodness of those times is more in our memory than it was in
reality. But while celebrating our history is a good thing, looking back and craning our necks to
keep an eye on our past is not the way to see God’s mission for us today.
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| Ascension by Jacques Le Breton; Jean Gaudin (from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.) http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/diglib-viewimage.pl |
As it turns out, neither is looking up. After Jesus tells them the
future mission he has in mind for them – that is, to be his witnesses to the
ends of earth – he ascends into heaven on a cloud. They watch as his feet
disappear into the sky… and then they just stand there, brows furrowed, gaping
slack-jawed into the sky, astonished and paralyzed. What…?? And they just stand
there, looking up toward heaven.
I can see a lot of reasons for their
slack-jawed paralysis. Perhaps they are feeling abandoned – again. After all,
Jesus had died 43 days before and then rose from the dead and they probably
thought that was that, and they wouldn’t ever lose him. And yet here he goes,
leaving them again. Even with the promise of the Holy Spirit, I can imagine
they feel pretty let down by that. Or perhaps they are lost once again in their
grief and dread about life without Jesus, or their disappointment that once
again, he is not doing what they thought the Messiah was supposed to do. Or to
put a more positive spin on it, maybe they are just caught up in this glorious
act of God! A man being lifted up on a cloud and carried into heaven? Yeah, I
imagine I’d be pretty astonished, too! And just letting yourself be enveloped
in the glory of God isn’t such a bad thing!
All valid reasons to be standing
there, looking up. And yet, they
can’t stay in any of those places forever. They can’t wallow in their grief and
dread, or dwell on their disappointment, or even soak up God’s glory in that
place all day long. Being caught up in God’s glory is a good thing, but it
isn’t all we are here to do. Jesus gave them a mission to fulfill.
Which is what two men in white robes remind
them of momentarily. “Why are you just standing there?” the men ask. “Why are
you still standing and looking up
into heaven? Didn’t you hear him? There is work to be done! You are his
witnesses! Your mission isn’t in the past, and it isn’t up in heaven. Your
mission is right here, right now. Your mission is to look out into the world, to see God, not disappearing into heaven,
but all around you in the needs of the world.”
“You will be my witnesses,” Jesus
told them. What does that mean? Methodist theologian Leonard Sweet said at a
synod assembly some years ago that no church needs any more mission statement
than this. You will be my witnesses.
But it helps to understand what that means, right? So, what is a witness, and
specifically, what does it mean to be Christ’s witness?
This week I had a wonderful
conversation with someone about whether and how we experience God. Back and
forth, we shared stories. It occurred to me that, as we were sharing stories, we
were witnessing to each other. Just telling stories about faith and life –
happy stories, sad stories, stories of hope… Witnessing! Then this weekend, I
had breakfast with a friend and she told me about some struggles she is going
through, and this time I mostly just listened compassionately – this, too, was
witnessing. In both of these instances, I felt the power of the Holy Spirit
that Jesus promised, present in those conversations, allowing me to show the
love of the God I know to others. I felt the power of the Holy Spirit allowing
me to look out, beyond myself, to be
present with people in need.
Being Christ’s witnesses, you see,
can happen in so many times, places, and contexts. It can happen overtly, by
telling others about how God has worked in your life, how you have seen new
beginnings, new life come from an ending, how the power of the Holy Spirit has
been apparent to you. It can happen by physical means, when we serve one
another and all those in need. It can happen more subtly by simply showing
someone love, by listening to them in a time of need, by offering compassion.
Witnessing can be fulfilling and even
fun, but just as often it is extremely hard and scary and vulnerable. That is
why Jesus makes this promise: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit
comes upon you.” In other words, you are not in this alone. We celebrate that arrival
next Sunday on Pentecost, the day the Spirit came rushing like a great wind
into the Church. But we also celebrate it every day, every baptism, every
prayer, every encounter with someone, every act of service, every time we look
at the world as it is and strive to be God’s presence in it. Our God is a God
who is Emmanuel, God with us, in many and various ways. This is the promise at
Christmas, at Easter, at the Ascension, and every single day. May we be
inspired to witness to that love!
Let us pray… Glorious
God, we often get stuck looking in the wrong direction, and getting bogged down
by the burdens of this world. By the power of your Holy Spirit, help us to look
out to see the needs of the world, and to be your witnesses to the ends of
the earth. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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