The Ascension of Our Lord

Richard Davenport May 26, 2022 - Ascension Day Acts 1:1-11 There are many places in the Gospels where you get a pretty good idea what's going on in the minds of the disciples. Sometimes you hear the disciples working through something, whether it's a parable or a miracle, and you hear Jesus explain things and you feel like you understand why the disciples are confused or upset or whatever the case may be. Here, as Jesus stands on the mountaintop with his disciples, I feel like when we put the different accounts together we see confusion, uncertainty, and even a bit of fear are the order of the day. I say that because in Matthew's account, he tells us that Jesus leads them up the mountain and the disciples worshiped him, but some doubted. Luke's account in Acts shows the confusion, "Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?" We also know how the disciples reacted after the crucifixion, terror and isolation. Seeing Jesus alive again in the flesh brought joy, but their time with him seems to have been pretty intermittent and it certainly didn't clear up all of the confusion and uncertainty they had. As I think about it, the disciples are getting a bit of a raw deal. "Strike the shepherd and the sheep will scatter," Jesus recalls, knowing the statement was looking ahead to his arrest and crucifixion. The disciples had been following Jesus for a couple of years now and he had been their teacher, but also their protector. Jesus made himself the focus for all hostility and aggression. He took it all on himself so none of it spilled over on them. When Jesus was arrested, the disciples suddenly had no one to protect them and they sought any shelter they could find. They had lost their protector and defender and now the world was a scary place. Now, you can argue that things are completely different now that Jesus has risen from the dead, and that's true and it's not. Yes, Jesus has triumphed over death, but that isn't much comfort if you don't understand what that means and it doesn't help your fears when that triumph isn't coming to mind. We know that persecution is already a problem for the fledgling church. The Jewish authorities have been after Jesus for some time and they're eager to stamp out the Gospel message. Only a few chapters later in the book of Acts we hear about the stoning of Stephen and the Pharisee Saul who comes on stage to begin his work of rooting out Christians. If Jesus, in his newly revealed power and glory, were still here, maybe he could do something about that. But he's leaving. It reminds me of a military cadence my wife and I heard recently. If you aren't familiar with the term, you've probably still heard them without realizing it. They're typically used during military drills and marches and such to set the cadence and bring the group together as a unit. This one in particular has the recruits recounting how their wives and children cry as they watch daddy leave, thinking this may be the last time they see him. It isn't just the loss of a loved one they mourn. As daddy joins the Army to protect the country from threats, he leaves the homestead and now mother and son have to fend for themselves. They love him, but they can't stop him from leaving. All they can do is stand there and watch him go. It's very similar to that experience we have as little kids. You're out shopping with mom. You're engrossed at looking at some fun new toys and when you finally turn around to ask mom if you can have one, she's gone. The panic may not set in immediately, but mom doesn't appear after a minute of searching, the anxiety will quickly ramp up. Why? Because the one person who makes the world not so scary is suddenly gone. The person who makes the world makes sense has disappeared. She was here, but now she's not and you've been left alone. Who is going to protect you? Who is going to defend you? The church, barely begun as it is, already is under attack. If we follow the traditional history given about those 11 disciples, 12 once Matthias is added to their number, all of them died a martyr's death. All except John. They all died under attack, under torture, under brutal circumstances brought about because those outside the faith wanted to slaughter them. Why is their protector leaving them here on a mountaintop all alone? Hearing the scene from Matthew's perspective we find Jesus leaving the disciples with the promise, "Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age." Just before leaving them. Now we look around. Where is Jesus? Yeah, I know, he's with us because he said so. But is he really? I mean, where? If you're a little kid having a nightmare, waking up in the darkness and silence with your heart racing, pulling out your little note that says, "I'm always with you - Mommy," isn't going to do a whole lot. It isn't going to turn the lights on and show you there are no monsters. What you need is someone to pick you up and give you a big hug. What you need is someone to tell the monsters of the world, real or imagined, who's boss. What you need is someone who isn't just around out there somewhere, but right here. The way we talk about God, how we pray, how we act, is that we don't really think he meant what he said, at least not in the way we'd like. He's around, sure. Pray to him. We know he listens. We know he cares. But it's the kind of care you get when you call up your parents who live 3 states away. The commiserate with your plight. They offer advice. They make helpful suggestions. But, at the end of the day, they're way over there and you're here. How can he be involved in your life when he isn't around at all? He can't be much of a protector, much of a comforter, much of a personal, loving God when he's all the way out there. Now, when we think about God, where he is and what he does, we probably aren't thinking about Christ's ascension specifically. We just look around and go, "Well, he's not here," and we act accordingly. We treat him accordingly. We don't expect any more from him than we'd expect from family living several states away. At least we expect to see those relatives every once in a while for big family get togethers. But Jesus? No, he's just out there somewhere. We talk about him coming back. We look forward to his return and the big celebration that will be accompany that return. But the day-to-day life we all lead? No, he's not really around. He's not any more a part of our lives than the security guard who watches the store through a camera. It's unfortunate we treat him that way, because that's not what he intends at all. He means precisely what he says. Everything God has been doing since Genesis 3 has been in an effort to rebuild the shattered relationship he had with his people. Not a relationship built around long distance communication, like getting a phone call from your uncle once a year on your birthday. No, an intimate, personal relationship that means actually being where his people are. Not just hovering overhead like a fog cloud, but being here, being here with you. A few months back, while we were studying Communion at our Sunday morning Bible study, I asked the group, "Who here has seen God?" My wife has been around me long enough to know what I was after and raised her hand. My mom gave one of those sheepish, "I think I'm supposed to raise my hand but I don't really know." Everyone else just looked confused. Understandable, the people who see and talk to God are often the same people who talk to Elvis and President Nixon. Even if you were one of those people, you probably weren't going to admit it. So I'll ask you, who here has seen God? I've seen God. I see him at least once a week, if not more. Back in the latter days of the Reformation when Luther was having a major debate with John Calvin, one of the points of contention was over Communion. In Calvin's estimation, Christ has ascended and is now seated at the right hand of the Father. Therefore, he cannot possibly be present in the bread and wine. Luther countered by pointing at the Bible and Christ's very plain words that said, "This is my body." It really couldn't be any simpler. Calvin wanted to make it into a big, complicated thing, but for Jesus it wasn't a problem at all. This bread that I give you is my body. This cup of wine I give you is my blood. It's not some spiritual-sounding code for me being around and in the general vicinity. I am here with you. I am not just a God who is far off but a God who is close at hand. When he says, "Behold I am with you always, to the end of the age," he means precisely what he says. God doesn't do all of this work in sending Christ and dying for your sins just to take a step backward, but to move even closer, to be with you even more. The Gospels tell of Jesus and his years on earth, his ministry that lasted around 3 years and touched many lives through his teaching, consolation, and healing. Still, it was a very few people who had that privilege. In ascending, he doesn't leave us behind. He joins us in a new way. Now he can be with his people around the world and he can do it as often as those people gather to celebrate his victory, his triumph over sin and death. Our protector has not left us behind. We are not lost or abandoned. Quite the contrary, he's here, right here and now, right there on the altar and he is here for you. So, let's get ready to meet him.