The Feast of the Ascension

Loss, or Promise

Readings: Acts 1:1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53

We are celebrating the Feast of the Ascension today. It occurs forty days after Easter – last Thursday to be exact. But being midweek it often gets overlooked. So we are marking it today. It is a fitting day for the whole people of God to gather in celebration.

During my high school years, I went to St. Mildred’s, a Private Girls' School run by an Anglican religious order. We had some unusual holidays, including the Feast of the Ascension. We would begin the day by trekking down to the local church for Eucharist, and then we piled on buses, and the whole school went to the island for a picnic. It was a day of celebration and fun. It marked the beginning of the end of the school year. We ate and played and raced and generally had a good time.

So whenever I come to reflect on the Feast of the Ascension, those memories come flooding back to me. They influence my thoughts. Indeed it always surprises me to find out that the Ascension is not about a picnic. In fact, it is anything but a picnic.

Jesus in his full humanity has been given new life in the resurrection. It has been a time of great hope for the disciples as they have been reunited with the risen Saviour. Then just like that, Jesus is gone. He has reappeared to them just long enough for them to say goodbye. Like a dream, he leaves behind no children, no estate, no writings, no trace of himself except this feeling that his presence was real, that uncanny feeling that he was just here, that he must have just stepped out for a time, that he will return at any moment.

It is a feeling of mixed joy and grief, of doubt and certainty. It marks the moment when the disciples came into their own time, and indeed when we pass from Jesus’ time into our own.

We read in Scripture that he was taken up into Heaven. We see it portrayed in stained glass windows and art, Jesus’ feet disappearing into the clouds. We may puzzle about how it happened, but emotionally we do understand it on a deep level. That is because we have experienced it with the loss that comes when a loved one dies. Death, even a lingering death, is so sudden and subtle. It is so peaceful. One moment you see the rise and fall of breath, the next it stops. Loved ones are suddenly taken from us, and the manner in which they go fills us with awe. It is an amazing, yet dreadful thing. We say and perhaps even know on some level that they are going to “a better place”. And yet we are confronted with the harsh reality that they are gone.

The stories of Jesus’ ascension are, it seems to me, about a Christian attitude towards death. The disciples and we are confronted with the hard reality that Jesus is gone. He has risen, not just from the dead, but from the world. Yet we cannot get away from the miracle. In fact, the miracle is the whole point, isn’t it? The disciples see with their own eyes that Jesus is gone, but he has gone to be with God. He is alive, so maybe their loved ones are alive. Maybe death does not have the final word. What a miracle that is! What a cause for rejoicing!

The Ascension, as he withdraws from his disciples, as he is carried from them into heaven, marks the end of Jesus' earthly life. Before he makes his final departure from them, he commissions them to continue his earthly work. As witnesses of the resurrection, it is their task to continue his proclamation. It is their responsibility to carry on the work that Jesus began. Jesus lives! Jesus reigns! Yet there is a catch! Jesus has left his disciples holding the bag!

So yes, this feast day is about loss. And we all know from personal experience that is no picnic. If we have ever suffered loss, then we can imagine how the disciples felt. This is a very difficult time in their lives. It is a time between loss and promise. How are they to face the future without their leader? How are they to trust that they will have the resources to carry on and to proclaim the great message of salvation that Jesus has given into their care? How are they to know that they are equal to the task that lies ahead? How are they to overcome the grief and pain that surrounds the loss of one they love?

So before Jesus leaves them he gives them a final blessing. That is, after all, an apt ending to his earthly life, a life wholly focused on blessing and forgiving. He died with forgiveness on his tongue; he rose with blessing upon it. And the disciples did not depart in sorrow, but in rejoicing. They may need to wait for the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise. But they wait knowing that Jesus has made good on every promise and they go out rejoicing in the courage of the Lord.

Part of the commissioning is a promise, the promise of power from on high. They will be “clothed with power”, covered head to toe with the power of the Holy Spirit. That is the promise they take with them. It will comfort them. It will sustain them. They go, not to the Upper Room, a place of protection and nurture, a place of locked doors and fear, but to the temple in Jerusalem. They did exactly what Jesus commissioned them to do. They immediately took their worship public.

We have all faced times of loss in our lives – the death of a loved one, broken relationships, empty nest syndrome, retirement. Even loss of innocence and problems related to addiction are about such in-between times. They are times of fear and confusion as we face change beyond our control. How do we deal with such events in our lives? How do we allow ourselves to know the promise of God to be with us?

We live in an in-between time in the Church's history. We see signs of moral decay in the fiber of society. At the same time we see a decline in attendance in the mainline churches. We see an aging congregation. We hear that the Church has lost its relevance in society. How do we hold on to the promise that God is with us and that we will be witnesses to the ends of the earth? How do we rejoice and witness to the power of the Spirit at work in our lives? In our own church, how do we discern the future that God holds in store for us?

The Scripture suggests a course of action. It suggests some things that the disciples did.
It should not be any surprise that the first thing they did was to gather in prayer. They didn’t know what to do, so they prayed for guidance. They prayed for the fulfillment of the promise that Jesus made to them. They gathered the community together and in solidarity they prayed to God, that God would be with them.

That is an important model for us as the community of the church. You may be saying to yourself, "Well that's pretty obvious. Of course we should pray." Gather the community together and pray. Pray for God's guidance about our future. Pray that God will be present with us. Pray that God will be at work in our lives.

But it is important for us to remember in our own lives as well. It is important for us to remember when we face a time of loss or change in our lives. Pray even when the only prayer you can pray is "God, I can't pray". Because that kind of prayer will help us to look back and remember the times when God has been with us. It will help us to remember the promise that God made to be with us always.

And pray in thanksgiving. We so often neglect to thank God for all of our many blessings. We are so blessed that we come to expect it.

Finally we await the fulfillment of God's promise. We live in hope. There is such an air of expectancy about the disciples during this period of waiting. There is a sense of building urgency. "What next?" they seem to be asking. They are about to embark on a new way without Jesus to guide them. The path ahead is not yet clear. It is a time of testing and discovery. Such times in our lives can be fruitful as we learn to trust our own resilience, our own abilities and our God given talents.

The Ascension is not the end of the story.
"I am risen. I am still with you." That is the message to the disciples. It continues to be the message to the church today. We still encounter the risen Lord. Yet that is a mystery that, not surprisingly, eludes our grasp. Our encounter is rather like trying to view a beautiful painting through a venetian blind. We can see the image, but not clearly enough to understand its beauty and perfection. We get flashes of insight. But to full appreciate its beauty, we would have to view it under the proper conditions, with our view unobstructed, with the proper lighting.

When the risen Lord encounters us, we do, for a moment, fully comprehend. Yet it is difficult to hold on to the image.

If we have eyes to see the mystery of the resurrection, we will glimpse it all around us. We will catch sight of it in nature – the smell of rain, the wildness of a thunderstorm, the beauty of a flower unfolding, the sight of a starry sky. We dream it. The kind of dream you wake up out of without quite remembering what it was about, and yet you feel better for having dreamed it. We meet it through the liturgy, through music, through the world of books. And most of all we meet it in our relationships with other people.

And so it may not be a picnic. But we are not left alone. Jesus parted from the disciples. But he promised the Holy Spirit. That promise is there for us as well. May we too be clothed with power from on high.

Seventh Sunday of Easter, Year B

Between Loss and Promise

Readings: Acts 1:15-17; Psalm 1; 1 John 5:9-13; John 17:6-19

I find as I prepare for preaching on this last Sunday of Easter that there is a piece missing. That is because most of us missed out on a feast day that fills in the gaps. Last Thursday was the Ascension of Our Lord. It is forty days after Easter, so it always lands on a Thursday. It is an important preparation for Pentecost. Fortunately the themes connect to this Sunday between Ascension Day and Pentecost.

When I was growing up, I went to a Private Girls' School run by a religious order. We had some unusual holidays. Ascension Day was one of the more memorable ones. We began the day by trekking down to the local church affectionately known as “Smokey Tom’s” for Eucharist, and then we piled on buses, and the whole school went to Toronto Island for a picnic. It was a day of celebration and fun. It marked the beginning of the end of the school year. We ate and played and raced and generally had a good time.

I have to say that it influenced my thoughts greatly. Indeed it still comes as a surprise to me to discover that the Ascension and the Sunday that follows is not about a picnic. Indeed, it is anything but a picnic.

During this Easter season, we have been discovering that Jesus in his full humanity has been given new life in the resurrection. The Ascension, as he withdraws from his disciples, as he is carried from them into heaven, marks the end of Jesus' time on earth. Like the other post Easter experiences, it is clearly an encounter with the risen Lord. Jesus has appeared to the disciples bringing peace into their midst. Then he commissions them, as witnesses of the resurrection, to continue his proclamation. It becomes their responsibility to carry on the work that Jesus began. "Jesus lives! Jesus reigns! Jesus has left his disciples holding the bag!"

I can well imagine what it must have been like for them to discover that the risen Lord was not going to stay with them. Their sense of loss must have been profound. They must have felt that they were being left on their own. But it truly is not the end of the story; it is only the beginning. Jesus and the disciples are entering into a new relationship. What Jesus began in his earthly ministry he now expects the disciples to continue. But fortunately for all of us, we do not have to do it alone.

“I am risen. I am still with you.” That is the message to the disciples. It is clearly the message to each one of us on this Sunday between loss and promise.

All of the readings are about that sense of loss and promise. In the account from the Acts of the Apostles Peter faces a difficult task. Judas, the betrayer, is to be replaced. The community has been fractured by the betrayal. But the time has come for them to make a choice that will help them to move on. They pray, they cast lots, and God shows them that Matthias is the one who is to continue the God’s work. It is a wonderful reminder that Jesus is the Lord of our failures as well as our successes.

Are there similar situations in the life of a congregation? There are always things that fracture a community. They are not as shattering as Judas’ betrayal, but they are difficult to deal with just the same. Life is full of losses. We learn early in life to mourn our losses – loss of innocence, loss of friendship, loss of status, and the loss that comes with death. This is a community in transition. Transition periods are difficult. They are times of loss, of change, and we do resist change. As a priest retires and Interim clergy come and go, and as you await the appointment of permanent leadership it can be a difficult time in congregational life. The sense of loss can be profound.

And yet John’s letter attests to the faithfulness of God at such times in our lives. He reminds the community that their daily experience is a testimony to their faith. That is an important learning for us. During times of loss how do we sense God’s presence with us? When have we been empowered to overcome some terrible situation in our lives, or to respond to something which seemed beyond our capabilities? When has the ordinary been transformed for you or for me or for this congregation? The signs of resurrection in our lives bear rich testimony. They make our lives full and rich with meaning. Our lives are different because Jesus lives in us. And if our lives are not different, then we need to ask ourselves if we are really know Jesus.

And finally there is the heartfelt prayer of Jesus as he prepares to take leave of the disciples. It is a wonderful prayer, particularly when you consider that it is the prayer of a person who knows that death is imminent. He is thinking of those he is about to leave behind. He is praying for them, and he is praying for the world and the state it is in. Is he thinking about structures of racism, competition, exploitation, violence, discrimination, greed, neglect? Is he praying for the poor, the wretched, the leper, the orphan, the spiritually impoverished? He is certainly praying for his followers, for those who dream his dream, for those who put everything on the line to enhance the coming of the kingdom.

Are we in his prayer? Do we pray his prayer, for this could well be our prayer in a fragmented and argumentative age? We need to be reminded that what we do as a worshipping community we do in Jesus’ name. Sometimes truly it is easier to have faith in God without seeking commitment to the church. Churches can be fractured places. In this church this morning there are many different ideas about how to do things and about who should be doing the doing. There are no doubt opposite hopes and plans. But I hope and pray that there is unity in agreeing that it will be accomplished in carrying out our Lord’s will.
Our work as a congregation during the time of transition is to come together in prayer. It is to ask for grace to deal with one day at a time. We pray to be able to offer our struggle and pain and anxiety to a loving God. The prayer of Jesus gives such a sense of mutual belonging and caring for each other. It is something that we need to experience as a congregation. How can we strengthen that understanding of ourselves as church? What are the values of the faith community that we show to the world? How do we discover in this time between loss and promise that we are not alone after all?

“I am risen! I am ascended! I am glorified! I am still with you!” That is the message to the disciples. It continues to be the message to the church today. We still encounter the risen Lord. Yet it is a mystery which, not surprisingly eludes our grasp. Our encounter is rather like trying to view a beautiful painting through the slats of a venetian blind. We can see the image, but not clearly enough to understand its beauty and perfection. We get flashes of insight, but to fully appreciate its beauty we must view it under the proper conditions. Our view must be unobstructed. There must be proper lighting.

When we are encountered by the risen Lord, we do, for a moment fully comprehend. But we find it impossible to hold on to the image. Yet if we have eyes to see the mystery of the resurrection we will glimpse it all around us. We will see it in nature; the smell of the rain, the wildness of a thunderstorm, the beauty of a flower unfolding, the sight of a starry sky. We will dream it; the kind of dream you wake up out of without quite remembering what it was about, and yet you feel better for having dreamed it. We will experience it through the liturgy as we break bread together, as we sing hymns of praise, as we pray. We will experience it through the world of books. We will experience it through other people. By God’s grace we will know the resurrected Christ at work in our lives.

Living between loss and promise is no picnic. We may be left holding the bag, but we are far from alone. Jesus promised the Holy Spirit to help the disciples, to guide them, to keep them, to protect them. That promise is there for us as well. May we live by that same life giving Spirit!