Waiting

A delightful cartoon, that appeared on Facebook this week, depicts Jesus surrounded by a cloud and rising upward. Below him, a bearded man is shouting, “Where?? Where?? I can’t see him!!” Pointing to the man is a large arrow which says, “Ascension Deficit Disorder.” Truth be told, all of us suffer from “Ascension Deficit Disorder.” For most twenty-first century Christians, including most Episcopalians, last Thursday was just like any other day. Yet, for most of Christian history, last Thursday, which was the fortieth day after Easter, was a major feast. It is the feast of the Ascension, and it marks a key transition for the earliest Christians in their experience of Jesus’ life among them.

Indeed, the Ascension of Jesus was so important that it is shown twice in the New Testament, once at the end of the gospel according to Luke, and once at the beginning of the Book of Acts. Had we gathered here on Thursday to celebrate the Ascension, we would have heard the lesson from the gospel. Today, we heard the lesson from Acts. And that’s not all. Allusions to Jesus’ ascension occur in the gospel according to John and in several of Paul’s letters. What’s more important, both the Apostles Creed, which we reaffirm at every baptism, and the Nicene Creed, which we say every Sunday, contain the statement, “he ascended into heaven.”

So why is this unnoticed feast important to us? More important, what are we affirming when we say these creedal statements? Are we affirming literally that what most representations of Jesus’ ascension, including this cartoon, seem to be suggesting? Is this one of the “seven impossible things” that Christians are “expected to believe before breakfast?” Are we saying that we believe that Jesus was pulled up into the sky until he vaporized somewhere?

Perhaps we need to remember that the writer of Luke and Acts was trying to express something inexpressible. To do so, he or she used the imagery available at that time. Remember that when these books were written, and well into the 16th century, people believed in a geocentric universe, i.e., one in which the earth was at the center, the stars and planets rotated around it, and that “heaven” was literally “up there,” somewhere beyond the stars. I would be surprised if any of you thought that was an accurate depiction of the universe. Rather, in our century, we have come to understand the vast mystery of the universe, in which earth is no more than a micro-point. We have also come to understand that heaven is not “up there,” and that God is a holy and unfathomable mystery.

What is important is not the imagery that the ancient writers used. Rather, what is important is what they were trying to express with that imagery. So given our cosmology, given how we understand the university, Steven Davis of Claremont University gives us a different and helpful angle of vision. He says, “I do not believe that in the Ascension Jesus went up, kept going until he achieved escape velocity from the earth, and then kept moving until he got to heaven, as if heaven were located somewhere in space. The Ascension of Jesus was primarily a change of state rather than a change of location. Jesus changed in the Ascension from being present in the realm of space and time to being present in the realm of eternity, in the transcendent heavenly realm.”1 In other words, in showing Jesus ascending into “heaven” the earliest Christians were trying to express that Jesus now existed in a realm beyond his physical body, beyond time and space. And yet, even though Jesus existed in that realm, even though he was physically absent from us humans with limited vision, yet he was still somehow present to us, in some new and different way.

Once having had this revelation, once having understood this new reality of Jesus being both absent and present at the same time, the disciples could no longer continue to gaze upward, as if Jesus might parachute back down somehow. The angels rightly challenged them: “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” More important, the angels reiterated Jesus’ promise that he would come again. Perhaps too they reminded the confused disciples of Jesus’ promise that they would be empowered to be Jesus’ witnesses throughout the entire world. With the angels’ challenge in their ears, the disciples came back down to earth. They understood that they were in a time of transition, that Jesus’ story was perhaps not yet finished. So they returned to Jerusalem. They gathered together, they prayed, and they waited, perhaps a little uncertain as to what might come next.

Aren’t we too in a time of transition? Liturgically, of course, the days of Resurrection and Ascension are behind us, and Pentecost is ahead of us. Advent, when we focus on Jesus’ promise to return, lies further ahead. In our personal lives, aren’t we also often in times of transition, when we must wait, perhaps feeling confused and uncertain, for God to act? Perhaps we are waiting to get married. Perhaps we are awaiting the birth or adoption of a child. Perhaps we are struggling through the seemingly endless requirements of a degree program, waiting for the credential that will allow us to answer God’s call to a new profession or ministry. Perhaps we are waiting for the results of medical tests or for the end of a prolonged course of treatment. We might be watching a loved one slowly slip away, wondering what awaits him and us when he is physically gone from us.

Sometimes I think that in this century our whole world is in a time of transition and waiting. We are witnessing the weakening of individual parishes and denominations, and the coming of new forms of church. Indeed, the church seems to be migrating away from Europe and North America toward the Global South. What will the church look like at the end of this century? Political changes continue unabated, and we wonder what forms of government and society will emerge in Egypt, Iran, Nigeria, Afghanistan, Syria, Thailand, Israel, and Palestine? Technological changes overwhelm us. What comes after the smart phone? What comes after the gasoline-powered engine? What comes after coal-fired power plants? And what will this fragile earth, our island home, look like as the glaciers and polar ice caps continue to recede? “What is God’s plan,” I frequently ask myself. Is Jesus’ second coming near at hand? Is this the time when Jesus will restore the kingdom? And, of course, Jesus’ answer, which is both unhelpful and reassuring at the same time, is the same one he gave the disciples: “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses ….”

And so, what shall we do as we wait in this transition time, as we wait for God to make good on God’s promises. We do what Jesus’ friends did. We do not stand around “looking up to heaven,” seeing if we can figure out, or worse yet, predict, when Jesus will return. We accept the mystery: the coming of the Kingdom truly will be in God’s good time. We gather together with as many of Jesus’ friends as we can find, to tell the stories and to share his presence in bread and wine. We pray. We pray as we can, not as we can’t. All our prayers, corporate and individual, prayers of petition or thanksgiving, prayers of tears and of anger, prayers for peace and for healing, all our prayers are acceptable to God, wherever and whenever we open our hearts to God. All our prayers bind us more closely into Jesus’ ascended life.

We trust that we are not left alone. Two weeks ago, we heard Jesus reassure us, “In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” Last week, we heard Jesus’ promise that, “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.” And we are prepared to be surprised by the God who may call us with tongues of flames or in the sound of sheer silence.

Most important, we continue to live in hope, with the hope that the reign proclaimed by the risen and ascended Jesus has already begun. Trusting in the power of the Holy Spirit to guide us, we go out and do the work that has been given us to do as best we can, committing ourselves to bringing God’s reign ever nearer. Knowing that even in the “changes and chances of this world” God is with us, we wait patiently for God’s next move.

1. Quoted by Daniel B. Clendinen, “Exalted at the Right Hand of God: ‘He Ascended into Heaven,’” Journey with Jesus, http://www.journeywithjesus.net/index.shtml , accessed May 26, 2014.