Looking Up – sermon on May 17, 2015
Luke 24: 44-53 Jesus said to them, “This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.” Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. He told them, “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.
Acts 1: 1-11 In my first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach until the day he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God.
On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.”
Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”
Looking Up by Rev. Doreen Oughton
Jesus was gone from their presence, again. Did they know when it happened that it would be the final departure? They’d thought he was gone when he’d been nailed to the cross, but no, they experienced him among them again, showing his wounds, breathing his blessing on them, breaking bread, calling out instructions for fishing, cooking on the beach. He’d been popping up here and there for forty days. According to Paul, a crowd of 500 experienced his presence at one time. When he was giving them yet more “final” instructions, they wondered if he was leaving them to finally usher in God’s kingdom in a way they could understand. Perhaps he was finally going to put those Romans and their puppets in the upper echelons of the Temple in their place. Perhaps now the kingdom would be restored to Israel. Jesus’ response is vague – “that is not for us to know.” Jesus seems to be telling them to be less concerned with what he and God will be doing, and more about what he wants them to do. First he wants them to wait, then he wants them to witness. Wait for the gift promised them, the Holy Spirit to empower them. And then go out and witness. Start where you, then move out to the surrounding areas, and then all the way to the ends of the earth. Go out and call people to repent, to turn from the paths they are on that get them nowhere, and help them walk in a new way. Go out and declare the forgiveness of sin, declare the freedom from bondage to everything that would keep you down and hold you back.
And after giving these instructions, he is gone. Has anyone ever seen art work of the Ascension? I looked at lots of things trying to choose an image for the cover of the order of worship. I have to admit that most of them struck me as just so silly. In my clergy support group one person was telling about a church that had this decoration that was white fabric, like a cloud, with feet hanging from it. We all laughed. Now Jesus’ appearances and disappearances since his death have been mysterious. He appears suddenly in a room, or he is unrecognizable to his closest friends until he says her name, or breaks bread. He vanishes just as suddenly and mysteriously. I appreciate this mystery. I like to wonder about it. I feel no need to analyze these stories. But this… Jesus floating up in the air, what, waving good-bye, or pointing to the second star to the right and moving straight on til morning like Peter Pan? This story doesn’t so much fill me with a sense of wonder and mystery as it does a little bit of irreverence and even embarrassment.
But here it is, and I will try not to miss the forest for the trees, discounting whatever message might be in this passage because the images conjured by the story are distracting. Perhaps, after all, his disappearance from his followers this time was similarly mysterious as it was the other times. Only after time had passed and he didn’t return, and they realized he wouldn’t, the felt they needed to make it a stronger ending. Like the two who had walked with him to Emmaus recounting how their hearts had been burning once their eyes had been open to recognize him. “Gosh, he’s been gone a while now. I think maybe he’s not coming back.” “Right, do you remember how he drifted way ahead of us on that walk to Olivet? Didn’t the sun shimmer all around him and then just take him in.” “No, wasn’t it the clouds that he disappeared into?” etc., etc.
Now I’m pretty sure that even those people who are very concrete in their faith do not believe that if there was a rocket that could penetrate the deepest space, it could get to heaven. Heaven is not another galaxy as we understand galaxies. It is not a geographical place. And yet is is different from the place where we are. And we think of it as up. I usually look up when I am talking to God, don’t you? And I think this speaks to our understanding that the divine level is a higher level. When you are up high, you can see further. You might lose detail, but the perspective is broader and wider, encompassing more. It is big picture, it is expansive. And so the idea of Jesus traveling upward makes sense in this way. In a way he is leading them in the way he advised them – first Israel, then surrounding areas, then to the ends of the earth.
So the message is that Jesus left them. He did not return anymore to cook for them or tell them how to fish or to bless them. He would no longer witness to them about God or the kindom. Instead, they were to witness to others. According to the story, they stand gazing up for awhile, and their reverie is interrupted by two men dressed in white. Now the Gospel of Luke has two men dressed in white appearing at the tomb to the women who had gone to anoint the body. Those men also had a question – “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” They tell the women Jesus has risen. I suspect it is the same two here, with their question – “Why do you stand looking at the sky? He will come back.” And I suspect the point of the question is the same – “Why are you wasting your time? This isn’t where he is to be found.”
So the message seems to be, as I read over and over in commentary after commentary, don’t stand around looking for Jesus to come back. Don’t just wait, do something. As we talked about in the children’s message – go be Jesus’ eyes and feet and hands and words. Bear witness to the good news. Okay, that’s not a bad message. It was our commission from Jesus.
And yet I think we have gone too far in that direction. I wonder if we are too focused on doing, and don’t spend enough time looking and waiting and longing. When I think about looking at the sky, it does not seem like a waste of time. I wish I did it more. I think we should all do it more. Once my home church had a fellowship event of star-gazing, and I thought that was the coolest thing. There might have been meteor showers expected or something, but people were invited to gather together and look up at the night sky. And when I do look at the sky, I feel connected to God in a powerful way. I am reminded of God’s power and goodness, of the vastness of God’s creation and God’s love. I am reminded that speck though I am, God sees me. God cares about me. And I feel connected with all the other specks around me.
I also think that our focus on doing can lead us to believe that everything is up to us, that Jesus has not only departed physically, but has checked out completely. If the church is going to be saved, WE must be the ones to save it. Yes, we are empowered by the Holy Spirit, but maybe we are not just empowered to “work” but to wonder. And I worry that too heavy a focus on doing interferes with our relationship with Jesus. For it is in looking for him, in longing for him, that we both whet our appetites for reconnection and find sustenance in his love for us.
Henri Nouwen coined a phrase – the ministry of absence – to balance ministry of presence. We all know the ministry of presence, yes? We show up, listen, empathize, pray, offer hope and help. But Nouwen claims that greater intimacy is achieved through the absence the follows the presence. As we recall how someone showed up for us, as we tell others of what they did for us, our sense of closeness to them grows. He says it was Jesus’ departure that led to true intimacy between Jesus and the disciples. It was in their memories that they found meaning in things that had only been confusing to them in his presence.
Barbara Brown Taylor also reminds us that absence is not nothing, it is something. She says, “It is a heightened awareness, a sharpened appetite, a finer perception.” She goes on, “When someone important to me is absent from me, I become clearer than ever what that person means to me.” She points out that if the relationship is strong and true, the absent one becomes present in mind and spirit when not there in body. You smile thinking of how your beloved would appreciate that joke you heard. You hear their encouraging voice when you start to doubt yourself, you find yourself enjoying their favorite dish.
But, as Nouwen and Taylor point out, there is no sense of absence if there has never been a sense of presence. This is one advantage the disciples had over us. They actually walked and talked and broke bread with the physically incarnated Jesus. And they had powerful experiences of his presence in those forty days after his death. What about us? Have we had enough experience of Jesus’ presence to find intimacy in his absence? Rev. Taylor says that our sense of God’s absence is proof that we knew God once and that we trust we may know God again. Maybe that is our collective memory and experience – because some have known Jesus intimately, we all can feel his absence, and the draw on the hope of his return.
When I came to faith, it was definitely out of other people’s experiences of Jesus and how they talked about them. They gave powerful witness to what it meant to be Christian, and I was drawn in. I loved the idea of Jesus, I loved what the scriptures said about him. It was enough to keep me coming to church, and then, when I came to love the church, the combination was enough to get me to seminary. But how I hungered for a personal encounter with Christ – a true sense of his presence. I was envious of those who had had such encounters. Over time, they came to me. Nothing earth shaking, just felt presence. And I draw on those memories, just as Nouwen and Taylor talk about. They feed the sense of intimacy I had. But I tell you, I did not have any such encounters during worship services. Worship fed me in very important ways, and convinced me of things, or evoked ideas and images that led me deeper. And I didn’t have such encounters when I was “working” the faith – doing service and telling people how great church is. No, they came in prayer a few times, once at a labyrinth walk with harp music playing, once at the beach, and once out walking at night. Never when I was busy. Never when I was trying to be the hands and feet and heart and eyes of Jesus. Only when I was perfectly clear that I was just my oh-so-small self. So I invite you to take a break from working and witnessing. I invite you to go look at the sky and wonder when and how Jesus will return. Go look up and let yourself yearn for him. And if anyone asks why you are looking up, feel free not to answer, but invite them to join you in looking and longing and wondering. May it be so.
