Head in the Clouds

May 28^th, 2017        “Head in the Clouds”   Rev. Heather Jepsen

Acts 1:1-14

          This morning we are looking at the Ascension story as told by the author of the gospel of Luke.  Only the Lukan author tells the story of Jesus’ bodily Ascension into heaven and he tells it both at the end of his gospel, and here at the beginning of his book of Acts.

          Church tradition holds that after his resurrection Jesus walked among the disciples for 40 days on the Earth.  He continued to teach them about the Kingdom of God and to try to prepare them for the days of the church without his presence.  After his 40 days were up, tradition holds that he was bodily lifted up into heaven.  This is where we get that line from the Apostles’ Creed.  “He descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sittith on the right hand of God the Father Almighty . . .” This is the telling of that story.

          In the story that the author of Luke tells, the disciples are simply hanging out with Jesus in Jerusalem.  In fact, he has told them to specifically stay there.  It as if he is encouraging them to have this concentrated, focused time together with him and with each other.  He also has a practical reason as he wants them to remain together after he leaves so they are all in one place when the day arrives to receive the Holy Spirit.

          Even though they have followed what I will call the regular Jesus, and now they follow the resurrected Jesus, the disciples are still full of questions.  “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”  They are still waiting for him to be the Messiah that they expected.  They are still hoping his kingdom will be the one they longed for in their hearts.  A kingdom of power and glory, a restoration of the Israeli nation state, a time when they are wealthy and safe and seated in positions of power.  “Lord,” they ask, “will you answer those prayers now?  Will you bring about the Empire now?”

          Jesus once again reminds them that they are asking after the wrong things.  God is in charge of whether or not they rise to Empire power.  In the meantime, Jesus promises a different kind of power and authority.  The power of the Holy Spirit will come upon the group, and they will be given the authority to be witnesses to the message of the gospel.

          When he has finished explaining these things to the disciples, the author tells us that Jesus was lifted up into heaven.  While they were watching a cloud took him out of their sight.  Jesus is leaving and they are left standing there, gazing up toward the sky. 

          I like the way the Lukan author writes this because I can clearly imagine the scene.  The disciples are standing there suddenly surprised as Jesus begins to float away.  Like watching a helium balloon float into the clouds they strain their eyes and crane their necks, trying to catch the very last sight of him.  Even when he is no longer even a speck in the sky, they still are staring and trying to see him.  Their hearts aren’t ready to let him go again.  They long to hold on to him, to capture the time with him, to remain in that place of spiritual ecstasy.

          But he is gone, and God sends a reminder that there is still work to do.  Two unknown men appear among them and ask “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”  Enough of your longing and looking, the time has come to be the church without the physical presence of Jesus.  “He will come back some day,” they seem to say, “but there is work to be done right now.”

          So, they all go back to Jerusalem.  They are all there, the 11 remaining disciples, plus the women who are part of the community.  Even his mother Mary is there.  They gather again in the familiar upper room and begin being the church by devoting themselves to community and to prayer.

          Thousands of years have passed, yet it is easy to find ourselves today in a place that is similar to the disciples’ place in this story.  For one, we are still looking for Jesus to be the Messiah we want.  “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”  I think we are still looking for God to restore the Empire, and for us to have places of power within that Empire structure.  How often are our prayers asking for power, authority, recognition, and wealth?  Our ideas about the kingdom may have changed but we are certainly after the same things.  We don’t want to worship a Messiah who offers humility, meekness, and death.  We want to worship a Messiah who brings power, security, and endless life.  “Lord, when will you be the Messiah we are looking for?”

          Of course, God is never going to give us a kingdom that looks like Empire.  Like the disciples, the power we are offered is the power of the Holy Spirit.  Like the disciples the authority we are offered is the authority to preach the gospel.  These gifts are given specifically to be used against the Empire of our day.  Rather than giving us the power to rule, Jesus offers the community the power to speak against those who are in authority.  And it is something that we can only do together.  Jesus encourages the disciples to remain together to share the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  So too, we are called to remain together as a community that uses the Spirit’s power to speak truth to Empire.

          Of course, we have as difficult a time doing this as the original disciples did.  How often do we find ourselves squinting up at the sky, staring into heaven, looking for something more from God?  We engage in this behavior in countless different ways.  Some of us are busy literally staring at the sky, looking for the signs of Jesus’ eminent return as promised.  We are counting the days of the “end times” and busily preparing to meet our maker and to take our place in the Empire we imagine he will bring.

          Some of us do this when we spend all of our time parsing theological minutia.  Is Jesus 50% human and 50% divine we wonder, or is it more of a 60/40 split?  Or can he somehow be 100% of both?  We parse the language of the gospels and search the early church record in a constant quest to find concrete answers to spiritual mysteries.  We have no time to do the work of the church because we are so busy trying to define every last part of the faith.  Like staring into heaven we are squinting at the Scriptures and pulling them apart with tweezers.

          Some of us do this when we argue amongst ourselves as a church.  Did God call women and men to ministry or are men the only ones with authority?  What about gay people, do they have a place in the church?  Just how big should a Session be and what are their exact responsibilities?  How many make a quorum of Presbytery and what are the rules surrounding property disputes?  Like staring into heaven we are staring at the church, seeking after that same quest for Empire power as we strive to build the perfect mini-empire in the perfect ecclesiology.

          All of us are called to ask ourselves this morning just what it is we are so busy looking at that we struggle to be the church Jesus calls us to be.  What aspect of our faith has consumed our attention in such a way that we are distracted by other things?  Where is our focus, where is our hunger, and where is our energy?  Are we still craving the Empire?  Are we trying to build our own empires?  Like the disciples, are we looking in all the wrong places?  Is our head in the clouds?

          As they watch Jesus retreat to a pin prick in the sky, the community is called back to its senses.  “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?  Jesus will come back.”  And in that confidence of Jesus’ return, they return to themselves.  They come to their senses, and come once again to the place of community, the upper room.

          I imagine that in this short period of time, between the Ascension and the Pentecost, the Jesus community begins to realize that Jesus has come among them once again.  He has come among them, in the presence of each other.  Jesus is there, when they are all there together.  Jesus is there, when they recognize him in the face of each other.  Jesus is there, when they are in community.  Even before they receive the Holy Spirit, they have each other, constantly devoting themselves to prayer.

          So too, if we want to see Jesus, we must pull our heads out of the clouds.  Jesus is right here, if we are willing to find him in each other, if we are willing to find him in community.  We need to stop craving Empire as people have done for generations, and start using the gifts we have been given to speak truth to the powers in our lives.  We need to devote ourselves to prayer and to work to live in the community together.

          In the story that the Lukan author tells, Jesus spends 40 extra days teaching the disciples who he was, and who he was calling them to be.  They continued to long for earthly power and prestige, and he continued to offer them something else, the power of the community of faith.  As he was bodily carried away from the earth, they were reminded to get their own heads out of the clouds.  The lessons they received ring true for us today: Look around and do the work of the church now.  Devote yourselves to prayer and building a life together.  Jesus will return among you, but only when you are willing to find him in each other.  Let go of Empire dreams and embrace the power of faith instead.  May God help us to continue to learn these lessons today and every day.  Amen.     

         

         

Asking Questions

May 14^th, 2017        “Asking Questions”     Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 14:1-14

          This morning is one of those thick Sundays in the gospel of John.  Like last week, Jesus is speaking with the disciples and his language seems convoluted.  Unlike the straight talking Jesus in Mark’s gospel, Jesus often speaks this way in the gospel of John; in many sentences that are layered with imagery.  It is no wonder that everyone around him is struggling to understand.  It can be difficult to tease apart the meaning of the text, let alone a word for us today.

          The setting is that last Passover dinner.  Jesus has gathered the disciples and washed their feet.  He has shared a meal with them, and Judas has left the group to do “what he is going to do.”  After Judas departs, Jesus begins to speak of his own eminent departure in what has come to be known as the final discourse in the Gospel of John.

          “Little children, I am with you only a little longer . . . where I am going you cannot come.”  Everyone is naturally disturbed at this news and struggles to understand.  Peter asks the question, “Lord, where are you going . . . why can I not follow you now?” 

          It is from this point that Jesus offers the portion of the discourse that we are examining today.  He offers a word of encouragement to his followers, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  He goes on to make promises; promises about the presence of God.  “I go to prepare a place for you.”  The implication is that there is always a place for the disciples to be with their Lord. 

          The desire to follow is strong, and Thomas again begins to question.  “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?”  In one of the most famous lines of the gospel, Jesus implies that the only way forward lies with him.  “I am the way, the truth, the life.”  It is no wonder that the disciples are mystified.  Can you imagine asking someone for directions and having them simply reply, “I am the directions”? 

          Phillip wishes things were easier, clearer.  “Lord show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”  Give us a clear answer, give us something to hold on to, and we will be OK.  Jesus replies that the disciples have seen the Father, because they have seen Jesus himself.  He implies that he is the manifestation of God on Earth, and so he has shown them all that they need to see.  He then tells them that they too, can do the works of God, if they ask in the name of Jesus.  From here the speech continues for several chapters as Jesus offers his prolonged goodbyes and lessons to his followers and friends.

          I have to admit that sometimes I love the gospel of John and sometimes I don’t.  Sometimes I am put off by the high Christology in John’s gospel.  What I mean by that is that Jesus is so much like God, so other-worldly, so holy, that he can be hard to relate to.  He is also very hard to understand.  The way that John’s Jesus talks is so complex and thick that I always end up feeling like I have been spun around in a circle too many times and I struggle to find my bearings.

          That leads me to what I love about John’s gospel, and that is the role of the disciples.  That is the place where I can easily find myself.  They are so earnest, they are trying so hard, and yet they are so confused.  “Lord, where are you going?”  “Lord, why can I not follow you now?”  “Lord, how can we know the way?”  “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”  These are all statements that I can totally relate to in my own searching life of faith.

          Of course, Jesus offers me the same answers he offered his friends that night.  “Lord, where are you going?”  “Where I am going, you cannot follow me now, but you will follow afterward.”  Jesus has gone ahead to a place I cannot reach now, but a place I will reach in the future. 

          In what has become a very popular text for funerals, Jesus offers this comfort:  “I go to prepare a place for you.  In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.”  As readers, we know the end of the gospel.  We know that Jesus goes on into the place death.  As a believer I know that I cannot follow Jesus there now, but I will follow him there later.  And when I am there, there will be a place for me and a place for others.  Not mansions in the sky, where we are all living separate lives like we do here on Earth.  No, the more proper translation is room.  Where Jesus is going, where I am going, is a place where there is room.  Not even a room in a house, but room meaning space; room for everybody.

          “Lord, how can we know the way?”  “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  When we ask what the path is, Jesus tells us that he is the path.  If we look to Jesus, if we study the life he lived, if we read his words and know his stories, then we will know the way.  Follow the path that Jesus sets before you.  Then you will know the way; then you will have life.

          “Lord, show us the Father.”  Like Philip, we are a people who long to see God.  If only things were clearer on the path that Jesus offers.  Philip asks for a sign, for proof in the existence of the divine, for certainty that he is on the right path.  “Lord, show us the Father and we will be satisfied.”  I want to see God, not just read about it.  I want to know God, not just take things on faith.  “Lord, show us more.” 

          Jesus replies that he has shown them enough.  They have seen enough.  And so, by comparison, have we.  Jesus tells the disciples that the words he speaks are from God.  That to have seen him, to have seen Jesus; is to have seen God.  To know him, to follow him, to believe in him; is to know, follow, and believe in God.  It is enough.  It is all that we need.

          In the final section for today, Jesus looks to the future.  “Those who believe in me, can do my works . . . Those who pray in my name, will have their prayers answered.”  The disciples will become those people.  And so will we.  We have the opportunity each day to do the work of Christ in our world.  Think of all the things that believers have done in the name of Jesus since his physical life on earth ended.  When we add all of those acts of faith up in our minds, those people who have changed the world one person at a time, Jesus’ words ring true; “They will do greater works than these.”

          When I was thinking about all these questions and answers this week, I kept coming back to one statement.  “If you know me, you will know my Father.”  The point that Jesus is making in this portion of the discourse, and the point that the writer of the Gospel of John is making throughout the gospel as a whole, is really quite simple.  To know Jesus is to know God.  This has become the heart of the Christian tradition.  Jesus is the one who shows us who God is.

          I was challenged this week to ask this question in turn of myself.  “To see me is to see . . . what?”  “To know Heather, is to know . . . what?”  In my life of faith, I am motivated by a desire to show Jesus to the world.  Not the definitive Jesus, not all there is to know, not a manifestation that equals Christ’s manifestation of the Lord.  But a simple glimmer of Jesus, a shadow of Jesus, a little spark of Jesus, in the way that I live.  If I am following the way, the truth, the life; shouldn’t that show in my own life?

          Part of my daily prayer and meditation time includes a pondering of this statement by the great spiritual writer Thomas Keating.  He says “We all have the innate capacity to manifest God, because we already are that image by virtue of being created.”  Listen again, “We all have the innate capacity to manifest God, because we already are that image by virtue of being created.”  I love this statement, for we know that we are made in the image of God, so therefore it logically follows that we ought to be able to project that image to the world.  So every day I ask myself, what have I done to manifest God, to follow the way of Jesus Christ, in my world today?

          The gospel of John is full of questions, so too are our own individual lives of faith.  “Lord, where are you going?”  “Lord, how can we know the way?”  “Lord, show us the Father.”  In the gospel of John Jesus offers answers to the disciples and to us.  “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  “Those who know me, know the Father.”  “Believe in me, and do the works I do.”   “Ask in my name, and I will do it.”

          May God continue to be with us as we ask questions on this journey of faith.  And may we continue to follow the way that Jesus sets before us, trying to manifest the image of God, the image in which we were created, in our broken world today.  Amen.