Sunday, May 23, 2010

Out of Sight Out of Mind

Feast of the Ascension
Cycle C


The apostles were all screwed up. They didn’t know what to think. One minute their master was dead, then he just shows up every once in awhile when they least expect it. First he’s here, then he’s there, then he’s over there. What an amazing roller coaster of emotions they must have been on. Was he really not dead? Was he really going to stay this time?

The apostles had been overcome by their grief at Jesus’ death. And it was so hard for them to believe and accept that he had risen. They didn’t even believe their own eyes. Their grief turned to rejoicing, because he was there again. But Jesus knew they couldn’t take it if he left them again like he had before. They thought he was gone forever when they sealed him up in that tomb. But then he appeared again to them, and they had hope. Can you imagine what they would have felt if he simply disappeared from their lives again?

Luke says that he was taken from their sight, hidden in the clouds. Not that he was gone, just hidden from their sight. For now. If he had not ascended, if he had not just been taken from their sight, they would have been crushed forever. If he had just stopped appearing to them they would not have had the hope that he was going to come again, and stay this time.

Their belief in the imminence of the second coming came from his ascension. They believed him when he said he was coming back soon, because he had come back once before. He didn’t seem lost to them anymore. He was not dead to them any more.

It’s like when someone we love goes on a trip. They are taken from our sight by that airplane, but we know they are not gone forever. They will return, and we anticipate their return. We miss them, but we take solace in our hope. My daughter, Kimberly, just got back last night from a two week tour of Ireland with her college choir. Her plane landed at about 10 o’clock, and Nancy and I drove down to pick her up and take her to her apartment, even though her boyfriend lives in Salt Lake and could have done it. Instead, we drove an hour each way down there just to pick her up. On the way down, Nancy commented that we were driving two hours to see Kimi for ten minutes. All I could say was, “But I miss her”. Even though we had talked and texted practically every day she was gone, I still needed to see her. I couldn’t wait another day.

If someone we love dies we do not have that same anticipation. We miss them, but the solace of the resurrection is not the same as if we knew we’d see them next Tuesday. We know that we’ll be reunited in heaven, but that seems so far away.
And so we grieve and call it a loss.

Sometimes we lose Jesus. Jesus is hidden from us all the time. Sometimes he chooses to seem far away in order to force us to do things for ourselves, like he did with the apostles. Other times he is right next to us and we cannot recognize him, as he was with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus on Easter evening. But most of the time we push him from our sight. He is hidden from us by our own sinfulness and unwillingness to bend our will to his. We hide him away in his room, like a crazy uncle, because what he has to say can be offensive to the world. His message is crazy to the world. We’re embarrassed to bring him out into the open, because we’re afraid of what others will say about us. And most of all we’re afraid. We’re afraid that maybe he has left us here on our own. Maybe he’s not coming back. Like the apostles, we’ve been hurt and have felt very alone many many times. It’s hard to trust. So we keep him here, in this church, and we come to see him every once in awhile. Because it’s safe in here.

How many of you remember the movie “Michael” with John Travolta? Remember at the end of the movie, Michael the Archangel dies and is taken up into heaven, after spending a couple weeks carousing here on earth. The two main characters, who had fallen in love, had a falling out and weren’t speaking to each other. One night, the man is walking in downtown Chicago, and he thinks he catches sight of Michael turning a corner, but he isn’t sure. All he sees is a quick glimpse of his back as he hurries through the streets. He pursues the angel, or what he thinks is the angel, until he runs around a corner and bumps right into his lover’s arms. She too had seen glimpses of the angel, and was running after him to catch him. What they found was not the angel but love love. And they lived happily ever after.

Maybe that’s how Jesus likes it. How often do we run after Jesus, only catching glimpses of him, running and running after him until we run smack dab into each other’s arms. We find him in each other.

The apostles did the same thing. They found Jesus in each other. After the ascension they didn’t split up and return to their old ways of life. They didn’t go off by themselves into the hills or take up their old professions. They stuck together, as a community. They did all things in community, shared all things in common. They worked and prayed and hoped in common. They told stories of Jesus to each other. They broke bread together. They lived and died together. It seemed the natural thing to do.

Because it is. And that’s why we also follow Jesus in community. Because we’re all in this together. It is natural for us to get together each week and share Jesus stories, to break bread together. To pray and to hope together. To live and die together. That’s the way Jesus intended it to be, because that’s the way we know he is still with us. Here. Today. Now.