Up and Out
Title: Up and Out (Confirmation Sunday - shared sermon)
Texts: Acts 1:1-11, Luke 24:44-53
Date: May 4, 2008
UP – Rev. Robert J. Brink
There are three moments in the story of Jesus that we might label, “thin places.” Places where the physical world, and the spiritual world seem for a moment to touch. The first is his baptism, when the spirit descends in the form of a dove, and a voice calls from heaven, “This is my son, in whom I am well pleased.” The second is the transfiguration, where Jesus shines like the sun and again a voice calls out from heaven, “This is my son, listen to him.” The third thin place is the ascension, when Jesus gives his great commission to his disciples, promises to send them the Holy Spirit, and then ascends to the right hand of the Father.
What are we to make of this story? It’s not very appealing. There are no masterful teaching moments, no confrontations. He just goes away. If he had stayed with them forever, that would have made a better story, but he doesn’t. If he had gone away and sent the Spirit at the same moment, that would have made for a better story, but he doesn’t. He makes them wait, without him, in Jerusalem. They have to wait until Pentecost before the Spirit comes. And in the meantime, where is he? Off with God somewhere, unreachable.
At least that’s what I always thought. Then I went to seminary and learned something interesting. When Jesus ascended into heaven, he wasn’t leaving his humanity behind. He was bringing it along. So now some piece of us, some part of who we are is united with the very heart of God. It’s not as if he got up there, and said “Phew, I’m glad that’s over, now to get back to this whole eternal perfection thing.” The change Jesus made goes much deeper than that, so that for all eternity, there is a piece of God that identifies with us completely, that understands us at our best and our worst. And since there is no division within God, that piece is not really a piece at all, but is brought up and in, and united with the whole, so that there is no piece of God that fails to understand, no corner of God that sees us as the enemy.
If all this sounds a bit too big for our heads, that’s because it is. God is too big for our heads, so all that we know of God is what God has revealed. There is no way for us to build a ladder of logic that reaches to the sky, no experiment we could create that would prove it. All these things we accept on faith because there is no other way. That’s not an admission of failure, only a recognition of reality. God is too big for our heads.
God may be too big, but God’s revelation is not. God reveals to us things we could never have figured out for ourselves, things that hurt our brains even to think about, and yet they reveal something of the nature of God. The incarnation that we talked about last week is one of those revelations. This week’s ascension is another. Incarnation teaches us that when we look at Jesus we see God, and ascension teaches us that in some way far beyond our understanding, God has become one with us.
Obviously, that process is not complete. God has accepted us, but we have not accepted God. Imagine a couple that gets married but then doesn’t move in together, doesn’t share a bed, doesn’t share bank accounts, doesn’t even see each other except for an hour on weekends. Sure, they’re married, but they don’t have a marriage.
You confirmands have reached the age where you can make choices for yourselves. The vows you made are similar to marriage vows, except directed toward God instead of another person. You’re old enough to know what you’re saying. It will take a lifetime to figure out what you mean, of course, but you’re mature enough to begin. The question is, what kind of marriage will it be? Will you be married in word alone, or will you share a life together?
We’ve all received God’s love, but has it changed the way we live? He ascended so that we could be one with God, and someday he will descend again. We will come face to face with God. And for some of us it will be like coming home again, like remembering a cherished memory long forgotten, like putting on a glove you’ve worn so long it feels like a second skin. It will be the fulfillment of all we have longed for and worked for and hoped for.
But for others, it will be like cold water on the face, like a cloying smell, like ringing in the ears. It will be the unavoidable confrontation with the one we have worked so long and so hard to avoid. This is judgment, not a gavel and a man in a black robe making decisions. Judgment is revelation. Do not fear hell. Fear living your life in such a way that hell would be preferable to living with God.
Our world is full of thin places. Today one of them. It is a chance for us to ascend into the presence of God, to experience a fraction of what will be when we are at last reunited with our creator. You have been chosen. Rise and be loved.
OUT – Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
Jesus had been with them as Luke tells us, “he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.” All through his ministry Jesus focused on the kingdom of God, which he preached was “at hand.” The problem was that those listening to him couldn’t get away from the notion that a “kingdom” or “reign” was a place. Jesus was revealing, in himself, that it was not a place, but a person – himself. The kingdom of God was among them and they couldn’t get it. Even after the resurrection and the forty days together they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” Rob’s sermon title from last Sunday would work again here, “you just don’t get it.”
So, he reminds them again that what is important is for them to wait for the coming, in fullness, of the Spirit he has promised. He tells them, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witness in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” There’s the point – Jesus goes UP and now we are sent OUT. The kingdom is now within us and we are to be witnesses to that kingdom right here and right now.
This is what Augustine preached to his folks in the early days of the church:
“Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: ‘If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is in earth.’ For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so too we are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us had not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.
Christ is now exalted above the heavens, but he still suffers on earth all the pain that we, the members of his body, have to bear. He showed this when he cried out from above, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’ and when he said: ‘I was hungry and you gave me food.’
Why do we here on earth not strive to find rest with him in heaven even now, by way of faith, hope, and love that unites us to him? While in heaven he is also with us; and we, though on earth, are with him. He is here with us by his divinity, his power, and his love. We cannot be in heaven, as he is on earth, by divinity, but in him, we can be there by love.” [Sermon for Ascension Day, quoted in Days of the Lord, vol. 3, p. 223-4]
So, we are already one with the Lord, joined by love, and now we are to go out to be his witnesses. We begin close to home and then move out more and more. Our outreach here at First Church needs a bit of work. We’re doing ok with the “uttermost parts of the earth,” but it’s the close to home we have to work on. Let’s be honest – when is the last time you spoke favorably about your church to a friend, co-worker or neighbor? When is the last time you invited someone to attend a worship service here with you? Study after study clearly shows that it is you (and I normally don’t like to do that) the folks in the pews, who are the most effective in getting people to come to church. Eighty-five percent plus of folks who are involved in a church are because a friend or neighbor invited them to come. That’s the point of being the Lord’s witness.
Witness isn’t just by words, but by deeds. How we live our lives makes a huge statement about who we are and Whose we are. Even how we leave this building, leave the parking lot makes a difference. I like what one of our neighboring churches has as you leave the parking lot – now you are entering the mission field. That’s the point of OUT – we are to take the message of love, hope, peace and community we have received and share it.
I like what my old New Testament professor from Saint Meinrad Seminary, Bernard Brandon Scott, says about the angels’ question there in Acts. “The angels are asking ‘Why are you hanging around here? Get on with it.’ Just as Jesus offered no hint as to when Israel would be redeemed, so the angels offer no hint as to when Jesus will return. Our goal is to be witnesses, not to speculate about the signs of the future.” [New Proclamation Commentary Year B – Easter through Pentecost, p. 63] I don’t know if I can make it any plainer than that. Our faith tells us that God is looking for us and for relationship with us. Perhaps we should just “get on with it” and then witness to it?
As we have opened the Word, soon we will share the bread and the cup. The goal of both is to give us food for the journey out. Our mission is to go out from here and make a difference in the lives of people, in the life of this world in which we live. Jesus goes up, sends us the Spirit and sends us out. Our task is to go in peace and be his witnesses. I pray that we get it, realize that the kingdom is in us, and go live like it – out beyond these walls, as we used to say, “in front of God and everybody.” It’s our mission as Christ-followers: UP and OUT.
God Makes Dead Bones Dance
Date: March 9, 2008
Text: Ezekiel 37:1-10; John 11:1-6; 17-45
Title: God Makes Dead Bones Dance (audio)
Lent is a great time to talk about death. We’re walking week-by-week closer to the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Many of us have been struggling throughout lent to give something up, which is a small kind of death, a death to self. It’s good that lent only comes once a year because it’s hard to talk about death. It is also good that lent comes each year whether we like it or not, because death is something we need to talk about.
We live in a culture that minimizes death and idolizes youth. Death to self? We’d much rather talk about self-esteem, self-awareness, and self-actualization than self-denial. We distract ourselves from the world’s suffering with fancy toys. We distract ourselves from our own brokenness with frenetic activity. We need to stop at least once a year and try to see things as they really are.
We have a church without martyrs, a world without justice, and wars without end. These are easy to get excited about, obvious. Preachers stand up and say, “It’s a sin and a shame. We sit here in luxury while others starve.” And everyone nods their heads and agrees that it’s a horrible shame and a tragedy and we should all feel rotten for enjoying the privilege of being born American.
That’s the goal right? To make people feel ashamed? If everyone feels guilty, they’ll want to be forgiven, they’ll seek out a priest. This is the trap we call religion. Religions set themselves up as mediators between God and humanity. They claim a monopoly on forgiveness. So, it’s in their best interest to make you feel guilty. That’s what keeps you coming back.
You feel good while you’re here and then you walk out the door and it’s not five minutes but you’ve done something wrong again. And the wrongs just keep piling up until you can get back to church again on Sunday and get forgiven.
That’s the easy way. You just make people feel vaguely guilty and you offer them vague forgiveness, and send them on their way. Or you could go with the even easier way. You make people feel really guilty once and then promise them forgiveness forever.
Just pray the prayer written on the back of this tract and you’ll go to heaven. If you’ve ever committed the tiniest of sins, ever stretched the truth, ever had a sexual thought about someone who is not currently your spouse, ever failed to do something good when it was in your power to do it, then you’re a sinner worthy of the flames of hell. Better pray that prayer quick because you might die at any moment. You might die while you’re sitting right there in that pew, and if you haven’t prayed the prayer then you’re going to experience eternal conscious torment. All you have to do is pray the prayer.
See how easy that is? But there’s still a catch. What if you didn’t pray well enough? What if you prayed, but then you forgot? What it you prayed it and you meant it, but then you changed your mind. Do you have to pray again? Once you claim your get out of hell free card, is it possible to lose it? Uh oh. I’d better go to church. It’s the religion trap all over again, only I don’t have to make you feel guilty every week; you feel guilty constantly all by yourself!
I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I’m not here to offer forgiveness. Forgiveness is already offered, without limit, without price tag. I’m in no position to barter between you and God. God has come to earth and eliminated the middle man. I’m here to say that this is the place where it’s ok to tell the truth… about what’s going on in the world, about what’s going on in our lives.
So let’s tell the truth for a minute. Half the world really does live on two dollars a day or less. But asking God’s forgiveness for children starving in Africa is like political campaigners spouting vague platitudes. “I’m a candidate for change. I want children to get a good education.” Wow. What a revelation. Just once I’d like to see a campaign ad that said, “Reading. Who needs it?” “A vote for me is a vote for stupidity.”
I hope we all agree that’s just a little bit ludicrous. So just for a few moments, lets stop beating ourselves up over the fact that we happened to be born American and some other folks weren’t. If we’re going to look for problems to solve, then lets look closer to home.
What’s the most common problem in our church? People are too busy. I didn’t say it’s our worst problem. We’ve got our share of baggage, just like everyone else. But our most common, most visible problem is we are horribly overbooked. We are running ourselves ragged. We feel disconnected from our friends and families, especially our families.
Can I bring you a message from your kids? If you gave them a choice between increasing your net worth by ten thousand dollars and having you home more, they would pick you. Unless you’re a jerk of course, then they’d take the money.
Too many of us are disconnected, stretched thin, dried out, scattered around like a bunch of dry bones. We’ve all got places in our lives that feel dead. And sooner or later, we’re all going to be dead.
But we don’t talk about it. Wouldn’t be polite. We just pretend everything is ok. Which is why so many of our young people cut themselves. They know the world is messed up, they know that they are at least in some way complicit, and they know they’re not supposed to talk about it. Especially if that brokenness extends into their own home. They’re job is to smile and get good grades so they can get a good job and afford the kind of life they’ve become accustomed to. So they take all those negative feelings and they stuff them until they go numb, until pain feels better than feeling nothing at all.
Death is the inescapable truth of the world we know, the world we live in every day. But our readings claim that death is no longer the supreme constant. It has been overthrown. Ezekiel and John both watch, jaws agape, as God reverses the flow of human events, repeals the second law of thermodynamics, and returns life to that which had lapsed into nothingness.
That’s the Bible in a nutshell: God created the world, but it became broken and began to fade, and now God is restoring it. God is pulling the scattered bones together, building connections, adding muscle, uniting us into a body. God breathes new life into us. At least that’s the plan. We still have a choice. We can collaborate in this work, or we can fight it.
Jesus stands at the tomb of Lazarus, orders them to roll the stone away, and calls out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” Then silence as everyone holds their breath, wanting to believe, hoping it could be true. The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity. And so Jesus calls again, “Lazarus, come forth!” Again silence. And a tiny voice calls out, “No thank you. Nobody here but us dead people. Nothing to see here. Move along. Don’t forget to roll the stone back on the way out.”
The church is not a building. The church is not an institution. The church is you and me being transformed into light and life and love. It’s not enough that we come together. It’s not enough that we move with purpose. God breathes the Spirit into us. And if we will only allow it, that Spirit will transform our lives from the inside out.
If we can accept that we are already forgiven, already loved, already alive, then we can stop hiding in tombs and join the celebration. We can watch as God changes our lives and our priorities. Perhaps we can learn to slow down, enjoy our lives, enjoy the young people. Perhaps we will see less war and less poverty. But changes like that only begin here, between hearts brave enough to be honest, and humble enough to be healed. May God make it so in us today.
WARNING!
This is a journal. As in, personal opinions. As in, NOT the official stance of anybody but me. As in, NOT my final answer on anything. As in read at your own risk, your mileage may vary.
