Mystic Congregational Church, UCC

Mystic, Connecticut

Sermon from May 8, 2005

“Preparation, Prayer and Promise”

Rev. Patricia L. Liberty

Scriptures:

1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11

Acts 1:6-14

This text from Acts, the Ascension of Jesus, is one that we may be tempted to take with a grain of salt, maybe even two.  It sounds just a little “iffy”—the disciples standing right there and Jesus, now the risen Christ, just shoots into heaven right before their very eyes.  As I visited my favorite chat rooms and web logs this week, I was comforted to know that I wasn’t the only preacher holed up in my study this week trying to figure out what to do with this text.  Contrary to conventional wisdom that says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, I did actually learn something as I studied the text this week.  Somehow, in almost thirty years of preaching, I’ve managed to avoid this text until today.  So I had some catching up to do.

What I learned is that the notion of Ascension was commonplace in the Hellenistic world of the first century of the Common Era.  According to Richard Fairchild’s exegesis, it was generally interpreted as a sign of divinity and immortality for kings, heroes and prophets to be so transported to the realm of the gods as a way of signifying that they were holy.  Platonism extended this symbol of immortality to all humanity.

This text reflects the developing faith of the early Christian Church that Jesus, the earthly but now risen Savior, takes his place among the holiest of holy people, and that he is now with God in an eternal realm.  What’s important in this text stretches beyond the seemingly incredulous event of Jesus rising up to heaven right before their very eyes.  As it stands in this reading, the interpretative midrash tells a simple story be in which a number of historical facts may well be imbedded.

Bruce Epperly comments, “the point of this scripture is missed if we focus strictly on geography and space travel rather than our own spiritual journeys.”  This is a story about unity and intimacy.

The point of the story is found, I believe, in the angelic challenge, “Why do you stand here looking up at heaven?”  In light of the possible otherworldly interpretations, the heart of this passage is a reminder that we have work to do right here and right now  in this lifetime, in this precious and unrepeatable moment and in this beautiful world.  This world is not the front porch to eternity, nor is it worthless in light of eternity.  Rather, our life is in the here and now.  Heaven is heaven and earth is earth, and both are beautiful!  Our calling as Christians is to heal and transform the world—this world, right now.  It has been said that there are some people who are “so heavenly-minded that they are of no earthly good.”  That was the temptation for the disciples—to stand around and gaze at the heavens, to wait for a Second Coming, and forget that their calling is to live faithfully in this life as God’s partners in healing the world.

This text is also a reminder that the spiritual power of God that was at work in Jesus had now passed on to the assembled community of men and women who followed him from Galilee to Jerusalem, had witnessed to his resurrection, and now formed a visible community of faith awaiting his return.  The church remains that visible community of believers to this day.

If there is ever any doubt as to what we should be up to in these days between the first appearance of God in Jesus and the end the times, it is removed in the witness of this passage.  Here we find, as recorded in Biblical witness, which is to say, what the early church believed to be true, the last words of Jesus.

Last words are important, in the arena of our lives—what we last said to someone before they leave us, and in turn what they may have said to us, are very often the occasion of much joy and encouragement and sometimes, unfortunately, of much regret and remorse.

We normally take very seriously the last words that our loved ones have uttered to us.  In our home and in our family, the last words that are spoken upon retiring, the last words spoken before we part company for the day are “I love you”.  I want the last words that I hear and the last words that I speak to be a witness to God’s love that is at work in our lives, in the event that something of the fragile truth of our days might intervene before we have opportunity to be together again.

If the last words of a loved one to us are uttered in the form of a declaration if they are uttered with any seriousness in the knowledge that soon time and space will separate us, if they ask of us anything, we are inclined to do everything in our power to both remember those words and to do that which was asked of us.

Last words are important words and these are the last words of Jesus.  Now, if you ask most people, they’ll say the last words are “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” or “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do”.  We tend to think of those words that he spoke upon the cross—those words he spoke just before his death—and not of the words that he spoke to his disciples, and to all of the church, after his resurrection, on the day that he ascended into heaven.

The last words that Jesus uttered while still on earth in physical form while still walking about in his resurrection body were these:

"It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set  by his own authority.  But you shall 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."

You shall receive power, and the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses.  Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria and all the world.  You shall receive power and you shall be my witnesses.  Those are the last words of Jesus recorded by the early church.  You shall be my witnesses, you shall receive power.  It makes the angels’ question to them all the more understandable.  The disciples had received their marching orders and they were standing around looking up and kind of saying, “Duhhhhhhhh”.

Clearly the message of the angels is that there is work to do in the here and the now and there’s work for us to do in witnessing and furthering God’s work.

Witnessing is one of those words that makes us nice white bread protestants more than a little uncomfortable, and not without reason.  What one of us has not been accosted at some point in time by someone asking if we know the four spiritual laws, or by someone knocking on our door to let us know we are going to hell if we don’t “do” Christianity in a particular way.  It’s little wonder the word “witness” has received such a bad rap and not undeservedly so.

That is not witnessing; that’s proselytizing.  This reminder from Scripture is that witnessing to our faith need not be the obnoxious and offensive enterprise that often comes to mind when we think of the term.  Witnessing to our faith in God is most often done in personal stories and a willingness to show care and compassion to someone who is in need.

It’s not about whacking someone over the head with a Bible.  It’s about a phone call that says, “I care about you and I’m so sorry you’re having a tough time.”  It’s the silent hug that communicates a thousand words.  It’s the lasagna that shows up at your back door when cooking is about the furthest thing from your mind.  It’s the cup of coffee that occasions the sharing of a story that needs time and trust to take shape.  It’s a thousand small things that are accompanied by a promise of prayer and presence that takes seriously the notion that we are witnesses to a life and love and truth that is more than the sum of its parts.

As believers in Christ, as people baptized by water and by the Spirit we have the power, a power given to us by God, to make a difference out there:  to bring people to the knowledge and love of God through what we say and do in their presence, through the story we have to share in love.  We don’t need to have all the answers, or any of them.  What we need is a willingness to share the questions.  We don’t have to have it all figured out.  We are called to point to the truths that are beyond what we can see but not beyond what we know in our heart of hearts.

It’s a messy enterprise, because we are not perfect and the church is not perfect.  We stumble along, sometimes half-heartedly, sometimes with embarrassment about what we believe or what we are unsure about, we make mistakes and manage to get the emphasis on the wrong syllable as much as not.  We are no different from the first disciples or disciples of any age for that matter.   God chooses human beings to be the messengers of eternal love and grace. God chose Jesus and now chooses us, not because we are perfect but because we are loved.

In a world where we measure the anniversaries of wars in decades and count the cost of current wars in tens of decades of lives, do not underestimate the power of speaking a word of peace, of asking a question that comes from the heart of your own faith.  In a world where some are on the edge of despair, do not underestimate the compassion of sharing with someone what has brought you back from the edge of your own despair.  In a time when the hearts of those for whom we care deeply break with sadness and loss, do not hesitate to sit with them in their sadness not because you can fix it but because by sharing it you lessen its burden if only for a moment.  In world where greed and getting more and more are goals that shine as most important for many, what makes us think that our simple testimony to doing with less and giving a portion of our time and our income to help others is unimportant?  We witness in a thousand ways by what we say and do everyday.

Annie Dillard, in her book “Holy the Firm” writes, “Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? There is no one but us.  There is no one to send, not a pure heart on the face of the earth …but only us, a generation comforting ourselves with the notion that we have come at an awkward time. But there is no one but us. There never has been.”

There is no one but us, not in this time and space. We can stand looking up into heaven or we can believe the promise of Jesus:  "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you and you will be my witnesses."

Thanks be to God for the works that we are called to in the risen Christ.  Amen.