A community of joy
Commentary
Object:
The Feast of the Ascension is one of those Christian celebrations that has been largely lost in our teaching. It’s still in the calendar, but we neglect to do much with it. Pentecost calls for fire and color, Easter has its powerful message for Christians, and Christmas is universal (though overrun with consumerism). But the Ascension sits on a little shelf in an alcove of our faith.
We may suspect that this is largely due to the scientific discoveries of the last 300 years. A man rising up from the earth to disappear in a cloud sounds a bit silly when we consider the size of the universe, or even our own galaxy. Where, we might ask, is heaven, if not over our heads? We remember the sardonic comment of a Soviet cosmonaut that he hadn’t seen any angels while he circled the earth.
For those of us who believe that the Bible has plenty to say about how to live and die, there is some disease, then, that when we talk about this story we have some explaining to do about the images in it. And Christian teachers have worked on that, uncovering the deeper meaning of the image.
Of course, we could just avoid that conversation altogether. Concentrate on the commission Jesus hands to his disciples and leave the magical stuff out of the story. But when we embark on that course, we wind up dropping the whole story rather than wrestling with it. And then we wind up with a feast day in the church that we don’t deal with.
If we look at all three of the lectionary readings for Ascension, however, we will have a good deal to preach on. The Church is bound together, we see in these readings, not by our beliefs in science vs. scripture, but by the love that God showed for us, his sons and daughters, in resurrecting Jesus so that we might have courage that in life and death we can be joyful and confident in that love.
Acts 1:1-11
This passage is couched in the language of Luke’s day, when a learned man (Luke was a Syrian physician) could believe that heaven was just above the dome of the sky that is clearly visible. So the idea of Jesus rising into the sky and thus entering heaven was not incredible. Luke had no idea that far above the clouds there was an enormity of space containing billions of galaxies, each of them containing millions of stars like our sun. There was no reason to question, either, Messiah’s return in the same way. The Jewish hope was that Messiah would rip open the heavens themselves and descend to earth with chariots and a mighty army of angelic warriors to put aside all disorder and sin and establish a single kingdom that would rule all the earth. It was a glorious vision, and kept the Jews going when they were hemmed in by nations that wanted to destroy them.
This hope is evident in Luke’s report that the disciples “gathered around him and asked him, ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’ ” Despite the crucifixion, which the Romans practiced in order to cow the population, his disciples believed that Jesus would be like the Messiah of legend. They were still thinking of earthly glory, where the nations of the earth, rather than ruining Israel, would be ruled over by Jesus Messiah [in Greek, Christ]. They had been hoping for this from the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. James and John had even hoped to be seated to either side of Jesus’ throne; their mother had even asked directly for this sign of their central position in the group of disciples (Matthew 20:20).
This is still their hope, even though Jesus had already told them to stay together to wait for the baptism of the Holy Spirit! If Jesus were about to establish an earthly kingdom, what role would the baptism of the Spirit play in that scenario?
Jesus had, from time to time, sighed at the slowness of his students. How could it be that they didn’t understand the parables he told? How was it possible that they could not perform healings like he did, when they had been with him every time he did these things? He had done everything he could to train and educate them, had even died for them. How could it be they hadn’t understood the meaning of the resurrection? He had even continued his teaching after the resurrection (v. 3). And yet they are still talking about “restoring the kingdom to Israel” (v. 6)!
No wonder his retort is “It is not for you to know...” (v. 7)!
And then we get what has been called “The Great Commission”: “[Y]ou will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” This commission has not been rescinded either; no matter what we might want to do for God, we, like the disciples, are chiefly to report to others all that Jesus has done for us, for others, and for the world. We are intended to bring hope and joy to the world around us.
It must have seemed a bit of a letdown. Here they were expecting for the hope of their ancestors to come to pass in their lifetimes, and to be a key part of that.
On the other hand, if they listened closely (which they haven’t done much of so far) they would have heard that they actually had an enormous job ahead of them. They were to preach Jesus in Jerusalem (a dangerous proposition), in all of Judea and Samaria (“Samaria! That land of pagans who called themselves worshiping God when they don’t even acknowledge the Temple as the only place where God lives!”) and ultimately to the ends of the earth!
We have to remember that these men were on foot. They didn’t have chariots, bodyguards, not even a single soldier to go with them as they traveled the dangerous roads of the Middle East. They had been up and down the roads from Galilee to Jerusalem, of course, and even outside of Israel, to Caesarea, Sidon, and Tyre. But to preach “to the ends of the earth” would mean sea travel, which the Jews had never been involved in, preferring to buy goods from others who did the shipping.
Since they were from Galilee, they knew that the world was huge. They had seen caravans bearing silks and spices from the Far East coming to trade for cotton and gold from Egypt. They had heard the many foreign languages spoken across North Africa and from the northern reaches of the Roman empire in what is now Europe. They knew that the world was larger than the people who stayed in Jerusalem might think. How could a small band of disciples hope to carry out such a commission?
Well, this is why they were to wait for the “second baptism” -- the inflowing of the Holy Spirit. That event would transform the disciples, change them from frightened people, hiding in a locked house, into forthright, charismatic preachers. Jesus sent them forth to establish God’s Realm, but it was the power of the Holy Spirit that would enable them to begin the transformation of the world.
But the glory of all that is overshadowed in this moment by the disappearance of Jesus “into a cloud” (an idiom that means he faded from their sight). They must have been confused. They may have been sadder than they had been since Jesus’ body was taken off the cross. They may have been disappointed that Jesus seemed to have left them in a way that was meant to be final. No longer would they see him in the flesh.
Mourners after a funeral are often like this. They have gathered to say goodbye and the time comes to leave, but no one wants to be the first to go. Besides, what will they do after this? So they linger, making small talk, glancing at the grave or the photo board, smiling vaguely at people they don’t know, clinging to those they have relationships with. Often, the pastor or the funeral director has to give people permission to move on, directing them to their cars or reminding them that a light meal is ready for them elsewhere. And even when they begin to move, they look dazed, a little lost.
So it must have been with the disciples. God knows our weakness, and knew theirs. Two angels (perhaps the same ones from the tomb?) bring them out of their trance: “Why are you standing here looking up toward heaven?” It’s time to move on, go back to your homes, do as he has told you. And, as we remind each other at the death of a loved one, they -- and we -- will see him again.
The disciples at this point don’t understand that business of being baptized by or with or in the Holy Spirit. They absolutely don’t know what it will be like to “witness” about Jesus “to the ends of the earth.” All of that is, at this moment, off in the future. At this moment they are shaken in more ways than one. Which makes them very much like us. And we are all waiting for the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise of the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Unless, of course, we have already received it.
This baptism is referred to in some denominations as the Second Blessing, in others as Sanctification, in others Being Born Again, or the Indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Whatever we call it, the Holy Spirit brings us the ability to do whatever God is calling us to do. It is the work of the Holy Spirit to empower us to preach and teach, to heal and comfort, to confront and correct. It is not necessary that we speak in tongues or prophesy or heal physical ailments by the laying on of hands to prove that the Spirit is working in us (though those gifts may be earnestly sought after in some groups). We may be manifesting other abilities that are more subtle, such as the ability to preside over an unruly meeting and keep arguments under control so the group can get things done. We may have the ability to listen to people as long as they need to talk, encouraging them to recognize what they are saying, and helping them to change their lives. These are all manifestations of the work of the Holy Spirit. Or, as Professor Henry Gustafson loved to say to his New Testament classes, “The Holy Spirit comes to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable.”
It is with this understanding that we read the story of the ascension, but we are post-Pentecost Christians. The disciples, having followed Jesus throughout his earthly ministry, having seen him tortured and killed, must wait for the Holy Spirit before they have any idea what they are in for.
Ephesians 1:15-23
The letter to the Ephesians has an emphasis on the unity of the early Christians, and the basis of that unity being God’s work through Jesus and the gift of God’s Spirit which empowers them to do the work God has called them to. That work was not Jesus’ earthly ministry either -- it is manifest when God raised Christ from the dead and “seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places.” This statement needs a bit of explanation to modern Christian.
In former times, and even today in formal situations, where one is seated is a matter of concern. The place assigned to each person at a dinner indicates their status amongst those attending the event. One example familiar to most of us is the way people are assigned seats at a wedding banquet or reception. Everyone knows that the “head table” is only for the wedding party. The bride and groom sit in the center of that table, with the best man and maid/matron of honor sitting on either side of the newlyweds. The rest of the attendants are seated further to each side. Closest to the head table are tables for the parents of the bride and groom with their best friends, and tables for the spouses/dates of the wedding attendants. Then there are tables that are open to whomever has been invited to the feast.
To be seated at the head table is not merely an honor, it is a sign that you belong to the wedding party. You might be an official witness to the marriage, like the best man and maid/matron of honor. But even if you simply “stood up” at the wedding, you belong at this table. The same goes for the family tables. To be seated at one of them is to belong to the family, so if you are important to the family, you have an elevated status at the reception by being seated with the family.
The same thing was true in ancient times. To be seated next to the host, either to the left or right, was a place of honor. But in the throne room, to be seated next to the king was an extraordinary honor. And to be at the right hand of the king [v. 20] was to be the one whose word was the same as the king’s. Today, this would be like being the prime minister of a country. This person is not the supreme power, but is the next best thing, and probably has more responsibilities than the monarch. This position was even higher than that of the prince, in many cases, because the prince might still be learning how to rule, while the prime minister has already proven himself. To put Jesus in this position is to remind us that, while Jesus has been glorified in heaven, it is God whom we worship [v. 17]. On the other hand, this position carries the possibility of treachery. With such honor can come the wish to have more power. So in bestowing this position, one must have earned the trust of the monarch.
When we discuss the doctrine of the Trinity, people often ask: “If Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity, and the Trinity is one, how can Jesus be seated at his own right hand?” We talk as though there is an actual throne room and chairs for all three of the persons of the Trinity. But this business of seating Jesus “at the right hand of the Father” is a metaphor for the power and activity of the Christ in our world.
The confusion keeps us from understanding that the things of God are natural, part of our humanity. So the writer (who is probably not Paul) tells us that God will give us “a spirit of wisdom and revelation... so that... [our hearts] may be enlightened.” In this instance, the work of the Holy Spirit is to give us enlightenment so that we may know the hope to which we have been called, so that we may know “the riches of his glorious inheritance.” In other words, we are looking toward a time in God’s realm in which our hope will be turned to realization of God’s gifts to us.
It’s like this. Suppose you decided that you were going to pretend that with a bit of work you might enter, say, the Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes. You soon find that every time one deadline for entry is past, another set of requirements pops up in your e-mail, with the promise that you could win “$5,000 a week FOR LIFE!” How long would you keep this up? What would make you quit? When the requests for you to fill out forms or buy something or to use your search engine pile up day by day?Would the endorsement by others who have already won make you stick it out? Or would you quit? When would you delete the requests and block them from your e-mail account?
Now suppose that you get an e-mail that you’re ready to block yet again, when you notice that the phrasing has been slightly changed. Instead of saying “You could be our next big winner,” it says “Mr. Such-and-Such, YOU have been selected.” So you open the e-mail, sighing a little because you have lost hope that you will ever win anything. But then you find: “Mr. Such-and-Such, we have chosen you as our next Grand Prize Winner! Call this 800 number to verify the information!” When you do, you discover that you have, in fact, just left all of your money worries behind you. You no longer have hope, you have realized your goal.
Most of us like to dream about what we would do with an amazing amount of money, but the fact is, it’s not just about the money. It’s what your goals in life are. If you hate your job, you can quit! If your home is in need of many repairs, you can do it all! Or you can move to a better home in a better area where your kids will go to better schools. If you’ve always wanted to travel, the door is now opened. You can endow a scholarship at your alma mater, or finance a mission that you have heard is doing great work. Whatever your dreams may have been, you have the potential to realize them all.
Or not.
Money can be a trap. And many a big prize winner is soon broke again, or hates the new neighborhood, or can’t pay the taxes on the stuff s/he bought with the winnings. Such is the problem with worldly ideas and goals.
The writer of Ephesians is saying that we have a God who wants to give us hope, reward, and power. Not power or riches so we can rule over others; that power belongs to God, and God has given it to Jesus. God has given Jesus “authority and power and dominion... above all others... and he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church...” As followers of Christ, we can trust that we have been given a share in that power, and will be rewarded for our work in making this world be what God intended for it to be. We will be free to participate in the amazing future that Jesus promised us when he was on earth.
That mutual hope (faith) is what binds all Christians together. We have different ideas about the meaning of the sacraments; we may have different customs for baptism and the communion; we have different ideas about who may be admitted to our communities of faith; yet we are to be united in love and hope, knowing that in the realization of the Realm of God we are all invited guests. Our share in the Realm is realized by our relationship to Jesus the Christ.
Luke 24:44-53
The end of the Gospel of Luke overlaps the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles, because Luke (or whomever wrote the third gospel) wrote both of these books. We can tell this because the language, style, and themes are the same in both books. Ancient Christian tradition tells us that this is the same Luke who worked closely with Paul [see 2 Timothy 4:11 and Philemon 24] and who is called “the beloved physician” in Colossians 4:14. Modern theologians note that there are discrepancies between Acts and Paul’s letters in describing their work, and wonder if we need to say that it is not the same author, but the jury is still out on that dispute.
The end of Luke’s gospel and the beginning of Acts are a case in point on these differences. While Acts has angels ushering the disciples from this scene to wait for the Holy Spirit to descend, Luke’s gospel simply says “[Jesus] withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.” [However, some of the old manuscripts of Luke do not say “he was carried up into heaven,” so it reads “he withdrew from them. And they worshiped him...”
Luke also stands out from the other gospels in including the ascension the way that he does. Mark and Luke lack the ascension altogether -- John because his theology does away with the need for the disciples seeing Jesus being lifted up (he has been lifted up at the very beginning of the gospel when John calls him the Logos of God), while Mark’s emphasis is on the unbelief of the disciples, which forbids the disciples seeing Jesus ascend -- Jesus does ascend, but apparently without earthly witnesses.
Matthew also emphasizes the doubts that some of the disciples had, even though they are with disciples who say they saw Jesus at the ascension. Matthew returns the group to Galilee to meet Jesus on the mountaintop (mountains serve an ongoing function in Matthew, starting with the Sermon on the Mount and ending here), thus forming a full circle in his narrative.
But Luke has them remain in Jerusalem until the Holy Spirit empowers them. They thus begin their ministry of preaching Jesus as the Messiah right in the city where he died, in the Temple which was the center of Judaism.
But before he ascends into heaven, Jesus has a few things to take care of. First, he appears to a few of his disciples at a time, in a few different venues. But each time he is building an image for them to carry forward into their ministry. First, Jesus is definitely alive. He eats some fish, he shows them the wounds in his hands and feet, he lets them touch him (unlike in John’s gospel, where he forbids Mary Magdalene to “hold on” to him). His last appearance in Luke’s gospel is one in which he makes it clear that he is not a ghost, not a free-floating spirit, nor is he, as we would say today, a zombie. He is returned as a flesh-and-blood, living, breathing human being. This is in direct contrast to what the Romans believed about the dead, and really contrary to what most people today believe. He is real, solid. He talks, with a real, human voice.
We need to know that this fulfills a very Jewish expectation; more specifically, it fulfills the Pharisees’ view of the afterlife. The Greeks (and the Romans after them) believed that the flesh was mortal but that the soul was immortal, and therefore lived on as a ghost without a body. In Genesis, however, we see that when God created life from the clay he breathed into it and it became alive. When death comes, the soul (spirit or breath) is breathed out and returns to God. There is no life after death except what God gives back as a gift. The dead are in the grave, Sheol (which does not equal “Hell” as we have imagined it, but simply the place where the dead sleep). At the end of time, God will call us back into life, body and soul, to stand the judgment. Matthew’s gospel pictures this as the great dividing of the resurrected, where some enter into the joy of the Reign of God, while those who lived selfishly are cast out (Matthew 25:31-46, though Matthew has the very Greek idea of eternal punishment). The Jewish Sadducees, on the other hand, did not believe in a life after death at all.
There is a contradiction between Luke’s gospel and Acts. In the gospel, Jesusenlightens the disciples; in Acts, they need the intervention of God’s Holy Spirit to understand Jesus’ teachings and how they are to preach his word. Probably this is one of the reasons some scholars question whether the same person wrote both books.
Nevertheless, he spends time with them. He says that “It is written that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day.” There is little in the Old Testament to point to this understanding, but Jesus definitely teaches that this is true, and inserting this claim again at the end of the gospel emphasizes Luke’s belief that this is central to Jesus’ teaching.
Furthermore, this suffering and resurrection tells us that repentance and forgiveness of sins is the main point of the disciples’ teaching and needs to be central to our preaching as well. No matter how we understand the relation of the forgiveness of our sins to Jesus’ crucifixion, we must tie it together with his resurrection and ascension. It is these three events at the end of Jesus’ life that constitute what we call “The Christ Event,” and it is the power that God showed in the resurrection and ascension of Jesus that leads to our forgiveness. The Christ Event shows that God not only loves us but wants the best for us all.
Not too long ago, I made a comment at dinner with friends about the need for confession. One of the men said, “I’ve never understood that bit of needing to confess our sins. Doesn’t God already know what our sins are?”
Well, of course God does know our sins, better than we do. So I said, “It’s not necessary to tell God our sins so that he knows; we confess our sins so that we are aware of what we’ve done wrong. We need to remind ourselves of our shortcomings, or we will never understand our need for forgiveness. If we think we don’t need to be forgiven, then we will continue to do the things that destroy us and the world and people around us.”
This man went on to say that as soon as he realizes that he just did something he wished he hadn’t, he asks God to forgive him and help him. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful world if all of us did the same thing? Of course, we need to remember to apologize and make amends to the people we’ve hurt as well as to God. But Luke is telling us that as soon as we do that we can be sure we are forgiven, because Jesus the Messiah suffered, died, was resurrected, and ascended to heaven so that we could be sure that we will be forgiven.
How many times in our lives have we avoided apologizing and trying to make amends for our shortcomings because we were afraid to face the people we need to face, all because we actually hope that they didn’t notice, or were afraid they would be really angry with us, break off contact with us, or punish us in some way? We would rather run away, hide, or cover up for fear of what people will say to us. And so our families are broken, our friends and co-workers are alienated from us, and the world is a darker place, all because we do not stop as soon as we realize what we have done and make it right.
In a way, when we act this way we make it seem that Jesus died in vain. That sacrifice, that power are lost to us simply because we are afraid, when we could be like those first disciples, living “in great joy, and... continually in the temple blessing God.”

