Acts 1: 6-14
Grace and peace on this Seventh Easter Sunday, the Sunday after
Ascension Thursday, the Sunday before Whitsunday and Pentecost--and center
stage this morning the scene as described in the 24th chapter of St.
Luke’s gospel and then again in the first chapter of the Book of the Acts of
the Apostles. The risen Christ appears
to his gathered disciples at the top of the mountain. He teaches them, gives them a missionary
charge, raises his hand in a final blessing, and then is lifted up out of their
sight. One beat, two beats: time seems to stand still. And then
two men in white. “Men of Galilee, why
do you stand looking up toward heaven?
This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come again
in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”
What seemed for a moment like the end of the story, not the end at
all. It seemed like he was leaving
us. But all at once we understand that
he hasn’t in fact gone anywhere. Not a
departure, but a grand liturgy of investiture and inauguration. He has been exalted to his heavenly throne,
to extend the royal metaphor, ruling all things in heaven and earth, King of
Kings, Lord of Lords, for ever and ever.
That the quiet mystery of the Baby born in Bethlehem and set down in
swaddling clothes to sleep in a manger bed as the angels sang their quiet
carols through the night is now
perfectly revealed in power and majesty, a crescendo, that the course of
history turns in a new direction, all towards heaven, to the fulfillment of the
promise, all creation made new, healed, restored. And for those who are in Christ, a new
citizenship, a new Temple, a Royal Priesthood.
The priesthood of Christ, into which we as we trust in him and place our
lives in his care are now incorporated, into the full power of God’s mercy and
grace and love.
Why stand here looking up into heaven?
As if you are bereft. Jesus
hasn’t gone anywhere. All around
you. Continuing present tense in the
life of his church. And coming again, in
power and glory. In Word and Sacrament. Manifest when Word and Sacrament are put into
action. Present in faithful and obedient
lives. Present in the spirit of his
gospel. In lives shaped and reformed by
him to share humility and grace and forgiveness. To join the festive procession, into all
nations, teaching everything that he commanded, generation by generation
proclaiming to his people, being penitent, the absolution and remission of
their sins, equipping and inspiring. New
marching orders as the King takes his position at the head of the column.
He will return. The assurance of
the angelic messengers to those standing on the mountaintop. No question about it. Not a language of symbol, but the foundation
of a new reality. He will return. So certainly, that it is in this reality
already taking place. The door swinging
open. As Paul says in First
Thessalonians, “the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of
command, with the archangel’s call, and with the sound of the trumpet of
God.” To find not a world of strangers,
but that his own rich and continuing life in us, in our lives, will rise up to
greet him. To find a Kingdom claimed for
him, his possession.
The chorus sings an Ascension anthem. The whole Ascension festival is music and
poetry, overflowing words of praise. Echoing the hymn of praise that King David
sang at the coronation of his son Solomon as king:
“Thine O Lord is the greatness and the power and the glory and the victory and
the majesty; for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine; thine is
the Kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all.”
Not the end of Easter season, but the perfect expression of Easter, its
fulfillment. For us this morning.
I’ve told the story before and most of you have heard how one day back
I think in the middle ‘70’s I was in the reading room of St. Mark’s Church in
Berkeley and saw someone reading a magazine called “Acts 29.” I was curious, so that evening I looked it up
in my Bible, only to find that the Book of Acts ends at Chapter 28. Then the light bulb went on. How Acts 1-28 was the story of the first
disciples, how they heard Jesus call them to be his agents, to go on before to
the places where he was going, to prepare the way, to be the advance party, to preach the good news of sins forgiven and
life renewed, to show forth in their lives the power of the Cross and the
promise of the Empty Tomb, and to open doors and to live lives of faith--of
holiness and righteousness, humility, grace, mercy, and love. That was their great story, chapters
1-28. And Chapter 29, that’s our
story. The continuing adventures, the
Acts of the Holy Spirit in the lives of his saints. Generation by generation, and of course then
you and me here this morning, and as we pray after Communion: “Send us out into the world in peace, to love
and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart, through Christ our Lord.”
Don’t just stand there looking up into the sky, Men of Galilee, as if
the story has come to an end. Jesus
hasn’t gone anywhere. His story is just
beginning, and the best part is beginning right here, right now.
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