Readings: Isaiah 49:8-21; Luke 24: 50-53; Acts 1: 1-11
Earlier this week, on Thursday, it was the feast of Ascension. We Baptists aren’t great at marking Christian festivals at the best of times. But Ascension is perhaps one of the most easily overlooked. There are some quite practical reasons for this. It falls on a Thursday and nothing religious happens on a Thursday, does it?
It is also quite close to two other festivals which do occur on Sundays – Easter and Pentecost. I suppose many find it easier to see the relevance of the Resurrection and the birth of the church.
It might also be because we no longer have that three tier heaven-earth-hell worldview. Humanity’s been through the clouds to find not heaven but the outside universe. In our modern era can we take seriously the idea of Jesus lifting off vertically into heaven, with his nail scarred feet sticking out of a cloud? I mean where has he gone?
Of course we use the idea of moving up in a different way. We speak of someone ‘moving up’ in the world. They’ve done well for themselves. They’ve moved to a different social class. Fair enough, in Harrow that might involve going to live on the hill. But they may not live in a physically higher location. In the same way of climbing the ladder, on ‘moving upstairs’ in the business world. Again we’re talking about status, rather than physical location.
However we visualise the events of the Ascension, that’s the important thing. It’s about Jesus status, rather than his physical location. Ascension marks the moment of God’s final acceptance of all that Jesus had done. Having completed all that God had sent him to do, Jesus is received back into the Godhead and exalted as Lord of all.
The theologian Tom Wright suggests that when you see it that way it’s not surprising Ascension hasn’t taken off (geddit?). For Ascension makes a statement to those who think they control our world and its destiny that there is one over them, one to whom even they are ultimately accountable. That’s not always the most comfortable thought.
Tied in with Ascension message of the sovereignty of Jesus Christ is the promise of God’s purpose for the world. In Acts, as Jesus ascends we get the promise that he will come again to dwell amongst his people and make his rule complete. From this comes the commission to the church to spread the news of God’s rule and invite others to accept him.
Ascension’s not just a nice, optional add on. For Jesus it’s the ultimate goal of all that went before and without it Pentecost makes no sense.
Yet for those guys stood on the hillside as Jesus is taken from their sight, at Ascension a tension remained. Assured as God’s purposes for the world are, it was the moment when they set out on a journey into an unknown future.
But the Ascension would be formative in turning this bunch of doubting and perhaps misguided disciples into an agent through which God would seek to establish his Kingdom.
Introducing The Stories
All our readings today were about people responding to promises which in one sense were assured yet still involved setting out on a journey with God into the unknown. Those setting out had good reason to feel overwhelmed at the prospect of what lay ahead of them. Yet the reassurances each received were also quite similar.
Isaiah 49
The Isaiah passage was addressed to exiles in Babylon. Israel then Judah had collapsed. Babylon conquered Jerusalem, or Zion. They destroyed the temple. Most of the people were taken captive. Only a rump, not considered worth taking, were left behind. Almost everything that gave this people their identity as a nation was stripped from them.
It would be hard to exaggerate the crisis these events caused in the life of this nation. And as we would they sought answers as to why it had happened.
Some thought that God had lost, or that God had just given up on them or forgotten about them.
Others saw it as a result of their national sins. They were being punished. They asked themselves if there was any way they could put this right. For them it was very difficult. Because there whole way of relating to God was wrapped up in the world of sacrifice and the temple. And the temple was miles away, in ruins. It seemed hopeless.
Against this backdrop the prophet brings words of comfort. He tells them that their sins have been ‘blotted out’ and that they are going to be restored as a nation. Despite their inability to offer sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins, God was going to act of his own free will and restore them. Far from giving up on them, their cities, towns and temple would be rebuilt. Their people would be re-gathered once again in their Holy City.
This message was a shock as well as a comfort to this demoralised people. But it happened – Babylon itself was conquered by Persian king called Cyrus. Cyrus operated in a very different kind of way. For a start he did not force people to live in exile. He released those whom Babylon had taken into captivity. That included the Jewish folk to whom Isaiah was speaking.
As we picked up the story this morning, Babylon has fallen. Freedom to return home has been announced. Just as exile had been viewed as a punishment for the sins of the people, so restoration was proclaimed a sign of restored blessing.
But more than that, the prophet claimed that the return from exile was the sign of a new commission from God. This people, who were at present despised, would be honoured. Kings and princes throughout the world would acknowledge that God had chosen them. With this is mind they were to set out for home where they would rebuild their land. God himself would guide their journey home like a shepherd guiding the sheep
And how do you think they felt?
Actually, I’m not sure reluctant would be quite the right word, but it comes close. Underwhelm, maybe. The majority of them had been born in exile. They might not have considered Babylon ‘home’ but it was all they knew. Going home meant three months on the road, travelling 500 miles across hazardous terrain.
Their destination was a land which lay in ruins and needed rebuilding. Grand, sweeping visions and promises of triumph and honour were all very well, but they were difficult to grasp amidst the pain and isolation from God which had been part of their collective consciousness for as long as they could remember.
Far from jumping for joy, they responded by arguing ‘The Lord has forsaken us, the Lord has forgotten us.’ How can we set out in faith with a God like that? There were tensions between God and his people and they needed to be resolved if this people were to have the courage to set out on their mission.
God’s response is stark. He hasn’t forgotten them. God, being the God he is, can no more forget his people than a mother can forget the baby suckling at her breast. But it’s the second image God uses which drives the message home. ‘I have engraved you on the palm of my hand’ says God. I have etched you there. Your name is scarred into the palm of my hand.
It’s a potent image. But this was the image of their God which they were to carry with them on that long, arduous desert journey back to their homeland. When they talked about God acting in the world they spoke of him stretching out his hand. Every time God stretched out his hand to act in the world, their name would be before him, constantly reminding him of the promises he was making to them that day.
When they doubted whether God loved them, when they doubted whether God would act for their good, they were to remember a God who carved their name into the palm of his hands.
As they set out their world to all intents and purposes was no different. Troubled times lay ahead but God had not abandoned them. God would not rest until the people were decked out like a bride, settled like a mother with all her children around her, until all Zion’s children had come home and the city was overflowing with them.
The images the prophet uses to describe God’s intentions are a little mixed, but the sense is of God’s love and tireless commitment to them. As they set out on the journey and mission to which they were being called, they were to carry this image before them. With that image in mind, when they set out in faith they could do so knowing they were setting out with a caring God.
New Testament
Just as the Babylonian exiles were setting out on a journey into an unknown future, so were the disciples in our New Testament reading. Forty days had passed since the Resurrection. The intervening six weeks had been a bit of a roller coaster of emotion to say the least. From the last supper, through Gethsemane, their desertion, Christ’s arrest, his trial, his crucifixion and his burial.
Before they had even really had an opportunity to begin grieving, Jesus had risen from the dead and over those forty days, Jesus had gradually explained why events had unfolded as they had. He gave events that had made no sense when Jesus predicted them, or when they unfolded, new meaning.
You might think these should have been exciting times. It was no wonder they should ask if he would now restore the Kingdom to Israel. They’d grown up with a picture of a conquering King sweeping aside all their enemies. That had taken a knock when Jesus was crucified. But now he was risen. Rome had tried to kill him and that didn’t work. They’d done all they could do to Jesus and it wasn’t enough. If Jesus could defeat death what couldn’t he do?
It was clear that Christ’s Resurrection wasn’t the end of his work. God’s purposes were still going on. He told them that the good news that Jesus had preached in Israel, was to be taken to all creation. Yet something was different. The emphasis had shifted. No longer were they to be mere learners, observing what Christ was doing, as they had been over the course of Jesus ministry. They weren’t simply going to be roadies in some kind of ‘Risen Christ Road Show.’
This time the emphasis was on them. Christ was handing the mission to them. ‘As the Father sent me, so I am sending you’ he said. He told them it was they who were to preach repentance for the forgiveness of sins. It was they who were to go and make disciples of all nations. They were to be his witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and the ends of the earth.
That was a daunting prospect. It was one thing to be part of the mission of God when Jesus was standing next to them. But although the ascension meant that through the Holy Spirit Jesus could in one sense be present everywhere, in another, very tangible sense, ascension emphasised his absence. When they looked around them, it looked like they were on their own.
This band of disciples could be forgiven for being worried. Their track record was none too glorious. They had failed once before – very recently in fact. The scene of their collective failure at Gethsemane lay on the slopes of the very mountain on which they stood. They failed when Jesus was with them. What chance had they without him?
Amongst the things that would by now have been making sense were Jesus’ words about persecution, trial, being hated and betrayed, even by those they loved. Whilst Jesus spoke of all authority having been given to him, the authorities that seemed fairly comfortably in control of things around here, and who had killed Jesus were already slandering them, claiming they had stolen Jesus’ body. So the mood wasn’t unqualified euphoria.
When Matthew described this scene he says they worshipped him, but some doubted.
Some doubted!
I must confess when I read that part of me thinks Jesus must have been wondering ‘what more do I have to do?’
But another part takes heart from it. For Jesus doesn’t have a go at them from doubting. Despite their doubts Jesus makes room for them in the Great Commission…
… But he doesn’t let them duck out of it.
As Jesus looked out upon the disciples I’m sure he could sense the trepidation in their faces. He knew that they didn’t think they could do it without him. He knew they were right. So not only does he reassure them of his promise of the Holy Spirit but he told them to wait for it to arrive. He assures them that God has a purpose for his world and they are part of it. Only when that happened could they step out in faith on the mission knowing he was with them.
Then it was time for Jesus to go, but there was one last thing to do. One last image to leave them with. Luke’s Gospel tells us what it is. Jesus raised his hands and bless them. And as he blessed them he was taken from their sight.
He raised his hands.
And as he did so they saw it.
His raised hands were the parting image with which he left them. Hands etched with the marks of Christ’s love. Hands with scars which showed he had gone through death yet not even that could prevent God fulfilling his purposes for them and their world. This was the image they were to carry before them as they stepped out into their future, fulfilling their commission. Leaving them with the image of the scars of love etched into his hands Jesus ascended into heaven. As he departed, their journey began but that image was to remind them like the exiles before them they were setting out with a caring God.
Down below them Jerusalem probably didn’t notice. Their world may have seemed unchanged. Whilst they quickly came to see that this moment confirmed Jesus as Lord of the Cosmos, their future contained troubled times as much as blessing. Ten of the eleven remaining disciples would be martyred. Yet they travelled with an image of a God who would not abandon them, who would not rest until his purposes were complete. They journeyed remembering that the marks of the love that their God had for them, scarred into the hands of Christ. The God who could keep a promise by overcoming death was capable of fulfilling his purposes. He was surely capable of his keeping his promise of the Holy Spirit to guide them in fulfilling their mission would come to pass.
So far from setting off back down the mountain, depressed that the one they had followed was gone from them, they carried this image down the mountain and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, praising God.
Conclusions
We are the inheritors of that blessing and that commissioning. We share that invitation to set out on a journey of faith with a caring God. And, as for them, the ascension plays a vital role in the belief that setting out with him is either possible worth it. If what we read is to be believed our world spirals for catastrophe. If global warming doesn’t get us, nuclear proliferation, international terrorism and the battle for increasingly scarce food, water and natural resources will.
The world seems to go on as it always has. We can question whether Easter has made any real difference to the world. We’re told our world is collapsing around us and we might even admit that humanity’s at least part of the problem. In clearer moments we may question whether humanity, certainly if it maintains its current mindset, is even part of the solution.
Yet the message of the ascension is that this destruction is not inevitable. Because of all Jesus has done, he has been exalted as Lord of all. God still has a plan to renew his broken world. He’s begun it in the resurrection of Jesus. And Jesus is just the beginning. What God has begun in Jesus he will do for his whole creation.
He invites us to join him. To allow him to make us part of that new creation and to invite others to join in. It’s not about hiding from, overlooking, or denying darkness, pain and brokenness in the world. The early disciples who first proclaimed Jesus Christ is Lord were every bit as much aware of that as we are today. We too live in the tension of a promise that’s assured but not yet complete.
When we set out to follow Christ in our world, we too are still setting out into an unknown. For each of us in some way, in different ways, it involves a re-orienting our lives from the way the world tells us make sense, to the way God designed us to be. For all of us it involves fixing our eyes on what we can’t yet see, trusting that what is unseen is eternal.
As plans go, the church might not seem the brightest idea, if God’s ultimate purpose is the renewing of creation. To many it’s history has been stained with Anti-Semitism, Crusades, Inquisition, empire and apartheid and slavery. Like the exiles in Babylon, if we don’t have a sense of collective failure, those who oppose the church will only be too happy to remind us of it.
Or perhaps, like the disciples on the Mount of Olives our sense of failure is much more personal. We’ve set out to follow but let God down – many, many times. Even if God does have a purpose for his world can that really have anything to do with us?
Yet it was to a bunch of faltering, doubtful disciples, who to be honest still didn’t really grasp what God was doing in Christ, that Jesus left his mission to be a community that reflects his rule and to encourage others to be part of it. It was a bunch of faltering, doubtful disciples whom he included in God’s future. But they would only find out what that entailed as they set out on the journey with him. And we’re just the latest bunch of faltering disciples, a mix of good and bad, faith and doubt, with all our foibles to be part of this. But we’re very bit as welcome to be part of it as they were.
As he sends us he stretches out his hands to bless us and promises to be with us to the end. As he sends us he promises never to forsake us. How can he forget us? His love for us is ever before him, scarred into palm of his hands.