Luke records this whole scene in that first chapter in Acts. After Jesus told them he would be leaving they asked a very practical question, “Lord, when will you restore the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus said, “It is not for you to know the time nor the period that the Father has set.’ And then the Lord added, “But when you receive power…” and this was the promise of Pentecost. And after he said those words he left. He left the earth and moved upward, upward into the heavens—out of sight. And they just stood there, shielding their eyes, looking up, squinting. Wondering. They were sad and more than a little afraid—or both. What would they do now?
And this is Ascension. The disciples standing there looking up as Jesus departs from them. What does this mean and why did the church put it on the calendar and every year read this Scripture and talk about what seems to be an obscure subject?
What happens here is a change of focus. There is a word we’ve been tossing around the last few years: paradigm or paradigm shift. It is a major change in how we look at things. Luke says that after that event on the hillside everything changed. That’s Ascension. Everything changed. I see four changes here.
Heaven to Earth
As Jesus left and made his way into heaven they just stood there gazing. Open-mouthed. And two angels came to them saying: “Why do you stand here looking up?” And the Scriptures say they returned to Jerusalem, which was a Sabbath day’s journey. And in an Upper Room—surrounded by people as ordinary as you and me—the Spirit came. But that story is for another day.Ascension is essentially a change of focus. It’s not heaven we are to turn to. Not pie in the sky by and by. It’s earth. It’s nine to five—24/7. Reality. A Sabbath day’s journey to our destination. Taking a map and looking for a particular room on a particular street.
The angels said: Why do you stand looking up? There is a fear out there today. We worry about terrorists and we worry about our kids and we worry about our money and our safety and just about everything. And it is understandable that we deal with this by turning our gaze from our own problems to escape from the hard facts of reality. No wonder Dancing with the Stars and America Idol are so popular. Who wants to watch the news anyway?
The angels did say you are to look around you. This road. This place. This town. Some upper room. There is a hunger out there today that the Left Behind series has tapped into. But their focus is wrong. Dead wrong. We are hungry for something besides malls and money and competition and rat races. But we find our answers not out there—but here where we live and work and do. The angel said you don’t have to look at the heavens. Look around you. This is where you will find the way. Not heaven but earth.
From God to One Another
In the play, Inherit the Wind, one of the characters says of another: “Somewhere along the line he got lost. He was looking for God too high up and too far away.” Acts says if you really want to see God and deal with those spiritual hungers: look around you. Look at the other disciples. Look at your world. This shift is significant: from there to here.
Anne Lamott tells in her book, Traveling Mercies, why she makes her son, Sam go to church. None of his friends go. Why should he be forced to go to church? She started going to the St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in San Francisco early in her pregnancy. She wasn’t married and her life was a mess. But she was intrigued by that little church and started going One Sunday they had sharing time at the end of the service and she stood up, took a gulp and confessed that she was pregnant and alone and more than a little scared. She said they began to cheer. Even people raised in Bible-thumping homes in the deep South clapped and clapped. Even the old women whose grown-up boys had been in jails or prisons rejoiced with her. And they reached out their arms and adopted this pregnant woman who had no husband and was not even a member. She kept coming to church. And they brought her clothes and blankets for the new baby. They lugged in casseroles that she could freeze and later use. They kept telling her that this new baby was going to be part of their church family. And then, she said, they began to slip her money. A bent-over woman on Social Security would sidle up to her and stuff her pockets with tens and twenties. Mary Williams, way over eighty, week after week, brought baggies filled with dimes and held together with wire twisties.
She said she brought Sam to church when he was five days old. They stood in line and called him “our baby.” In the weeks that followed they would say: “Bring me my baby—why you trying to hold my baby so long?”
Ann said they kept her going. The people cared and reached out and prayed and loved her and saw her through her hard, hard days. She reports that Mary Williams still gives her bags of dimes even though she is doing much better financially. She says that usually gives them to homeless people she has met. But she says, “Why do I make Sam go to church—none of his friends go? I make him go because somebody brings me dimes.” You see, when she looked around her she saw the face of God. And she found God in the faces, ordinary faces of people she met at church. No wonder she has dedicated two of her three books to: “To the people of St. Andrews Presbyterian Church…and her Pastor…” and “for the kids and youth at St. Andrew who taught me how to be a teacher.”(Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies (New York: Pantheon Books, pp. 99-105)
From Us to Them
The angels told those disciples to quit looking up. Look around you. Look beyond you. It is a shift from us to them. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you and you will be witnesses in Jerusalem, etc, etc, etc.” We always have to watch the pronouns. These little words are always a tip-off when it comes to matters of faith and unfaith. The great shift here is when the church had to move out beyond itself into a larger world. Jerusalem, Judea, even Samaria and beyond. So the words of Jesus are true after all: We really do save our lives by losing our lives in helping someone else.
A woman came to see Karl Menninger one day who was deeply depressed. She had been to many doctors and had been depressed for years. After her long litany of complaints Dr. Menninger wrote her out a prescription. “Put your clothes on tomorrow. Leave your house. Go across the railroad tracks and find someone in need and reach out to them.”
I have been struck by what we say about the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. We are told that over 7,000 coalition service people from 20 countries have been killed. But we never mention the people in Afghanistan and Iraq. Somewhere between 250,000 and 600,000 in those two countries have lost their lives. There are children there that have never lived in a world without fear and war. Perhaps we need to enlarge our pronouns. What about them?
From the General to the Specific
The angels told those on the hillside to quit looking up. Turn from the heavens, generalities, to the specifics. They asked: Specifics? Yes, specifics. A room in Jerusalem on a side street. Or Jerusalem the city. Or Judea--the country going to hell in a handbasket. Or even cursed Samaria which we could translate to your community or the poorer section in your town or maybe even that Muslim Center a mile from where you live. The gospel is rooted in the soil of the specific. George Herbert understood this when he wrote”:
“And here in dust and dirt, O here,
The lilies of his love appear.”
A year later in that same room where the Annual Congregational meeting had taken place—we gathered again. They were saying goodbye to the Interim and his wife. . They had called a real bonifide Pastor. We were leaving. And we laughed and told funny stories about what had happened that hard year. We poked fun at ourselves. And somebody said, “We have not laughed like this in this church in a long, long time.” And there were tears all around the room in the eyes of Jim and Joan and Bob and Sally and Herman and Dottie. Because they had decided on that spot and in that hard time they were going to build them a church. I get their newsletters and they are alive and well. They are a healthy viable congregation.
It always is specific. Names are called: “Moses…Moses.” “ Joshua…Joshua.” “Samuel…Samuel.” “Elizabeth…Elizabeth.” “Mary…Mary.” “Mary Magdalene…”“Saul, oh Saul.” “Ananias…dear Ananias.” Places—real places make it personal and pointed. “Shiloh…” “Promised Land…” “Jerusalem…” “Bethlehem…” “Damascus Road…” “A street called Straight…”“Ephesus…” “Emmaus…” The list goes on and on. What specific thing is God calling you to do right now. Not just love. Not just follow him. Not just do the right thing. Love who? Follow him where, when, how? What specific thing do you need to make right?
My first Interim after my retirement was a church in an Alabama town. Main-line denomination. Beautiful building. On one of the main arteries in the town. Surrounded by nice comfortable homes. And my first Sunday there they had their Annual Congregational Meeting at the end of the service. And after lunch I thought they were going to kill each other off. One group wanted to leave the denomination another group was adamant about staying. It was a complicated mess. You could cut the tension with a knife. And here was the brand new interim; never done this before and I could see the church just driving itself off a cliff. One member came by the office one day and handed me a campaign button. It read: “My God, this is a hell of a job!” It was a quote from Warren Harding.
Well that was the kind of a job it was. But the work started. Just a handful coming and they would sit over here and over there and there was a great gulf fixed. What were we going to do? The first thing I told the Board was that they had to turn the temperature down it was 140 degrees in that church. They were about to explode. You have to turn the temperature down, I said, only you can do that. I told them we had to pray for our enemies by name. We had a forgiveness seminar and brought together the warring sides and they began to talk haltingly with one another. And slowly, ever so slowly the church began to come together. They took ownership in the direction of their church. They had to quit pointing fingers and look at some of their own attitudes. Some days I was sure they would self-destruct.
A year later in that same room where the Annual Congregational meeting had taken place—we gathered again. They were saying goodbye to the Interim and his wife. . They had called a real bonifide Pastor. We were leaving. And we laughed and told funny stories about what had happened that hard year. We poked fun at ourselves. And somebody said, “We have not laughed like this in this church in a long, long time.” And there were tears all around the room in the eyes of Jim and Joan and Bob and Sally and Herman and Dottie. Because they had decided on that spot and in that hard time they were going to build them a church. I get their newsletters and they are alive and well. They are a healthy viable congregation. So what’s the big deal about Ascension? The angels come and challenge us to turn our eyes away from the heavens and look around us. And go to work. All of us and each of us. And if enough of us do this—who knows—we might just make this old world a better place for everyone. That’s the big deal about Ascension.
Wonderful insight!
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