Why Are You Looking Up? Seventh Sunday of Easter

Acts 1:1-14

May 24, 2020

            One of the many questions I had about church as a child was about the weekly offering. Why did we have to give money to the church? My parents would try to explain to me that we gave the money to help Jesus. That’s what they said, “We give the money to help Jesus.”

That actually confused me more, because the understanding that I had of Jesus was that he lived in heaven and had been living there for quite some time. He watched over us from heaven. In my young mind that meant that we gave money to help Jesus who lived in heaven. I remember trying to figure that one out, and the only logical explanation I could come up with was that after everyone left the church, Jesus came down from heaven, gathered up all the money from the offering plates and took it back with him to heaven.

I pictured the Jesus I saw in my Sunday school room: nice man with brown hair and a brown beard, looking beatific and kind, and posed with his arms outstretched in welcome. That is the Jesus I saw coming down from heaven – kindly, gentle smile, with his arms outstretched. And that is the Jesus I saw return to heaven – same smile, same arms outstretched, only know his arms were full of the money we gave because obviously money was needed in heaven. It was quite a while before I found another picture to replace that one.

First, this is a vivid example of why abstract concepts do not work with little kids who think in concrete terms. Second, without even realizing it, I had formed my own mental picture of Jesus ascending into heaven. My picture involved Jesus ascending on a weekly basis with his arms full of money, but still it was ascension.

This past Thursday was the Day of the Ascension. We do not put too much emphasis on this day in our tradition, but I know that Christians in other places do. In some countries, the Day of the Ascension is a religious holiday. This is the day that Jesus ascended into heaven, let us rejoice and be glad in it.

I doubt that the Ascension will ever take on quite the same importance in our culture, but that does not mean we shouldn’t give it any thought. It would be easy to get caught up in the literalness of the event – did Jesus zoom straight up? Did he just vanish or did the cloud act as cover? If it happened today, would Jesus have been picked upon radar or mistaken for a UFO? As with other supernatural happenings concerning Jesus, I don’t actually spend a lot of time worrying about the literalness of them. Whether Jesus literally soared up into the clouds or was no longer seen again, I think the ascension has a deeper significance than its logistics.

In our Christian narrative we tend to stop with the resurrection. Jesus was brutally crucified. He was willing to die for the truth he brought about God and God’s kingdom. He was willing to die for those around him and for us. But his resurrection from the dead changed everything. And it did. But in the ascension, we find completion. It is completion of Jesus’ life here on earth. It is the full circle – for Jesus. For the disciples, the ascension of Jesus is the beginning for them. Several commentators refer to the ascension as the “passing of the baton.” Jesus’ earthly life is finished, but the work he began is not. The gospel of good news about God’s love has to be shared. Jesus opened our eyes, our minds, our hearts to see the kingdom of God in our midst, but we now shoulder the responsibility to do the same for others.

Jesus’ words to the disciples were that they must “be my witnesses.” The power to do just that is what we celebrate next week. But Jesus’ command is clear, “Be my witnesses.” And just as in the stories of the resurrection, when Jesus is no longer in their sight, angels are. Two men dressed in white, appear to them. They ask one question, “men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been take up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

The men’s question focuses on the disciples looking up. But implied in their question – as I see it – is a second question. Why are you not looking out? Why aren’t you looking out into the world God created? Why aren’t you looking out at the people who are living in darkness, in fear, in sorrow, in hopelessness? Why are you looking up when you should be looking out?

One of the techniques I used for teaching confirmation classes in the past was to talk about the different aspects of our worship service. I know our virtual services are shortened, but the basic structure is still there. We gather and we call ourselves to worship. We hear the Word written and proclaimed. We respond in prayer and affirmation. We are sent. In my teaching, I tell folks, young and old, that the Word is the focal point of our reformed service. Everything builds up to it and everything moves from it. There is a lot of energy invested in getting to the Word. But I’ll be honest, whether we are worshipping in person or virtually, by the time we get to the sending part, I think we start losing steam.

We’re thinking about lunch. I’m usually vacillating between that was an okay sermon and that was the worst sermon I’ve ever preached. People want to stretch and move. Some of you at home are thinking about one more cup of coffee. Some of you at home are thinking about getting out of your pajamas – it’s okay, I get it. We just move through the sending part and consider our worship completed.

But the sending is not an afterthought. It is not just a nice way to finish worship and move on. The sending is as important and as crucial as every other moment in worship. Perhaps it is the most crucial. If we don’t take the sending seriously, I think we are just spending the majority of our time looking up, forgetting that we are also supposed to be looking out.

Right now, I feel like I’m spending much more time looking up than I am looking out. I’m looking up demanding answers to why, when, how long. I’m looking up imploring for help, for hope. I’m looking up in sorrow and lamentation. I’m looking up in frustration and even sometimes in despair. But these words from Acts and John too remind me that I need to refocus my gaze. I need to look out. Where am I being sent? How am I being sent? What does God need me, need us to do out there? Because there is a whole lot of need. There is a whole lot of sorrow. There is a whole lot of people who need the good news, who desperately crave, long for a word of hope, a word of peace, a word of love. There is a whole lot of folks out there who need us to look out and be for them, in any way we can, the love of God.

Because it was that love that brought Jesus into our midst and gathers us together. It is love that brings us to the Word. And it is that love, that life giving, life changing love that sends us out. So why are we still looking up?

Amen and amen.