May 4, 2008
(Seventh Sunday of Easter)
Why Are You Looking Up?
By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
Acts 1:6-14 • Psalm 68:1-10,
33-36 • 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11
• John 17:1-11
(From
The Lectionary Page)
In a homily for this Sunday, Deacon Susan Riis writes:
Recently I had an opportunity to see Shakespeare’s Tempest. One of the major characters in the play is a spirit, Ariel, who for a number of years has been bound to the ruler of the island, the magician, Prospero. Ariel’s real home and the home of his fellow spirits, is in the air. But in order to fulfill the terms of their work for Prospero and to earn their freedom, they must walk on the ground.
Near the end of the play, they are released from their service. To indicate their approaching freedom, thanks to modern theatre technology, the spirits hover midway between stage and ceiling. As Prospero speaks the words of their emancipation, they rise cart-wheeling and dancing into the theatrical sky.
We in the audience are sad to see them leave; they are good and kindly spirits – much more so than those belonging to the majority of human characters in the play. Yet we are happy that they at last are restored to their rightful home – where they can be truly themselves, not contingent on human whim or will. Nevertheless, we feel a bit empty, a bit hollow without them. (The Rev. Susan Riis, a homily for Easter 7, 2002.)
As the Risen Lord ascended into heaven and out of sight, the disciples must have felt empty and hollow without their Lord and friend’s physical presence. Just before the leaving taking, there is final question about whether the occupying Roman army will now be expelled so that the land of Israel might be made right again.
Apart from the actual question, the scene here is one you and I have experienced in some fashion. Your child is beginning his or her freshmen year in college. One or two cars full of stuff have traveled some distance. You have emptied the car and filled the dorm room. Now the parent orientation is over and it is time to depart. There is that final walk to the car and pause before getting in. So many things to share: how proud you are, how much you love you daughter or son, how happy you are for this next beginning of life. And instead you ask a question like, “Honey, do you have enough toothpaste?”
The question is rather irrelevant. It is the moment itself which is of great importance. This moment incarnates your love and unending relationship, which will be different from this point on, but just as strong and love-filled as before. As you drive away and glance in the rear-view mirror, you get a glimpse of Ariel and his fellow spirits being released into new life.
At the Ascension, the Risen Christ’s relationship to his disciples became something different, but remained just as strong and love-filled as before. To us who have been made his disciples in baptism, as the post-Ascension Church, we have been released to live a new life. In the Resurrection, we have been set free from the bondage of sin and death. Repeatedly the Risen Christ has said to us, “Be not afraid. Peace be with you.” With each promise and pronouncement, we grow stronger in faith, knowing that our fears have been conquered by the Lord Jesus.
And just as children learn to crawl then walk, to ride a bicycle then drive, study and learn and then live out a particular vocation – so we, too, in our faith and throughout our lives, are called to grow, and stretch, and be emancipated to live differently, more fully, into the grace and love and life of Jesus Christ.
Back to that question in Acts. "Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" Some scholars believe that this question is really asking: Is it over now? Is God’s plan of salvation completed? Is your ascension to the Father the signal that the end of time has come, and therefore, there is no more work to do?
And the author of Acts has Jesus respond most clearly: the restoration of the kingdom will come when it comes. Now, right now, there is an extensive mission before you and all who believe. The Holy Spirit equips you and all believers for this work. The kingdom is universal, citizenship belongs to all of Abraham’s children including the Gentiles.
And like the spirits in Shakespeare’s Tempest, the disciples are set free for a mighty purpose, to testify to the love of God as seen in Christ Jesus. And though the disciples’ feet remain firmly planted in this nitty-gritty world, their souls and minds and hearts ascend to a place where sin and arrogance, greed and hate, suspicion and the thirst for power have no place.
The scene is completed with two messengers, dressed and sounding a lot like angels, having a bit of holy fun: What? You are still looking up? Men of Galilee, didn’t you hear the man? You have a mission – get to it.
As Anglican Christians, it seems that through the ages our tradition has called us to seek a healthy balance between heaven and earth. We should not be so heavenly minded that we are no earthly good. And yet caution in the other direction is just as important: we are in this world, but not of this world. We are to seek those things that are above, where Christ is.
We are forever united to the Ascended Lord in baptism, fed with Bread from heaven in this Holy Meal, and our hearts burn with his presence as we break open the Word of Life. And even as we look heavenward to offer our thanks, we must also look around us. We have been emancipated from lesser preoccupations. We are freed to be servants, the highest calling in God’s kingdom. To seek and serve the Ascended Lord in all people, loving our neighbors as ourselves. There is peace to make in our neighborhoods, hungry people to be fed, hope to be restored, compassion to share, a planet to care for. By his Ascension, Jesus has freed us to make his heavenly will carried out on earth.
Oh people of Kansas City, why are you looking up? There is work to do.
