Easter 7B
Category: Sermons
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“Hail the Day That Sees Him Rise” – Feast of the Ascension
Almighty God, your blessed Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, ascended far above all heavens, that he might fill all things. Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the world; through the same your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Today is the Feast of the Ascension. The Ascension (Luke 24:44-53 / Acts 1:1-11) is probably not the best known of the feast days in the Church’s calendar, but it is one that takes on increasing depth and importance the more you think about it and experience it. In this feast, we are drawn into an event that has cosmic significance.
The Ascension is not about gravity, or the physical location of heaven, or any of that. It is about God. In fact, even though it comes toward the end of the season of Easter, the Ascension is most closely related in meaning to Christmas. At Christmas we celebrate the Incarnation, God becoming flesh and living among us.
What was begun at Christmas is brought full circle and proclaimed again in a different way at the Ascension. In the Incarnation, what it means to be God became fully a part of what it means to be a human being. In Jesus, the human and the divine become united in the person and life of one man. In the Ascension, this human being became fully a part of who God is.
It was not the spirit of Jesus, or the essence of Jesus, or the divine nature of Jesus, or the invisible part of Jesus, or the idea of Jesus, or anything like that, that ascended to the Father. It was the resurrected body of Jesus: a body that the disciples had touched, a body that ate and drank with them, a real, physical, but gloriously restored body-bearing the marks of nails and a spear. This humanity has become a living, participating part of Divinity.
The Ascension tells us that it is a good and holy thing to be a human. It is so good and holy a thing that God became human. The fullness of God now includes what it means to be a human being.
So we are able to approach God with confidence and with joy. Because we are not only dealing with the Creator of the universe and the Sovereign of all time and of eternity; we are also drawing near to the One who lived our life, has shared our fate, who knows us, and cares about us.
St. John Chrysostom expressed it in this way: “Through the mystery of the Ascension we, who seemed unworthy of God's earth, are taken up into heaven…Our very nature, against which Cherubim guarded the gates of Paradise, is enthroned today high above all Cherubim.”
Charles Wesley's Hymn for Ascension Day is also quite a beautiful expression of the meaning and implications of the Ascension.
Amen.
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So that your joy may be complete
Jesus said to his disciples, "As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (John 15:9-11).
While reading this passage, which is a portion of Sunday's gospel, I was struck by Jesus emphasis on joy. He wants our joy to be "complete." That led me to theologian Paul Tillich, who reflected on the joy of the Christian life in The New Being:
Blessedness is the eternal element in joy, that which makes it possible for joy to include in itself the sorrow out of which it arises, and which it takes into itself. In the Beatitudes, Jesus calls the poor, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst, those who are persecuted, "blessed." And He says to them: "Rejoice and be glad!" Joy within sorrow is possible to those who are blessed, to those in whom joy has the dimension of the eternal.
Here we must once more reply to those who attack Christianity because they believe that it destroys the joy of life. In view of the Beatitudes they say that Christianity undercuts the joy of this life by pointing to and preparing for another life. They even challenge the blessedness in the promised life as a refined form of seeking for pleasure in the future life. Again we must confess that in many Christians, joy in this way is postponed till after death, and that there are Biblical words which seem to support this answer. Nevertheless, it is wrong. Jesus will give His joy to His disciples now. They shall get it after He has left them, which means in this life. And Paul asks the Philippians to have joy now. This cannot be otherwise, for blessedness is the expression of God’s eternal fulfillment. Blessed are those who participate in this fulfillment here and now. Certainly eternal fulfillment must be seen not only as eternal which is present, but also as eternal which is future. But if it is not seen in the present, it cannot be seen at all.
This joy which has in itself the depth of blessedness is asked for and promised in the Bible. It preserves in itself its opposite, sorrow. It provides the foundation for happiness and pleasure. It is present in all levels of man’s striving for fufillment. It consecrates and directs them. It does not diminish or weaken them. It does not take away the risks and dangers of the joy of life. It makes the joy of life possible in pleasure and pain, in happiness and unhappiness, in ecstasy and sorrow. Where there is joy, there is fulfillment. And where there is fulfillment, there is joy. In fulfillment and joy the inner aim of life, the meaning of creation, and the end of salvation, are attained. (Tillich, Paul, The New Being: Chapter 19, The Meaning of Joy, Chas. Schribner's Sons, 1955)
When our inner joy finds outward expression, it is "complete." When our inner joy finds outward expression, it is contageous. Joy is the essence of our salvation and the fruit of faith-filled living.
The world needs more joyful Christians! Lord, give us an abundance of joy so that we may spread it around liberally enough to change the world.
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An Epiphany From a Muscadine Grape Vine
Jesus said, "Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:4-5).
The powerful imagery of Jesus’ description of the relationship between him and his followers became clear to me one day when I was jogging on the trail beside Buffalo Bayou west of Downtown Houston, Texas. At one place along the trail, there are several pine trees that are completely wrapped up by muscadine grape vines. The last time I had run past this site, the grapes were still green. That day they were ripe and stood out boldly from the vine and its branches.
What wasn’t so easily discernible was where the vine left off and the branch began. I had never really
looked closely enough at vines and branches to notice that. Jesus’ words came to mind. The fruit that is borne by a grape vine comes as a result of the oneness of the vine and its many branches. If you cut off a branch, it will no longer be capable of bearing fruit. Actually, if there are no branches, the vine will not bear fruit until it grows new ones.As followers of Jesus Christ, we are able to bear fruit as long as we are connected to the vine and draw nourishment from it. It may be difficult for anyone to distinguish between Christ’s life and the lives of his followers, just as it is difficult to distinguish the vine from the branches. The fruit Christ wants to give to the world is the result of the mystical union of the vine and its branches – his life and our lives. The more branches there are connected to the vine, the more fruit there is.
During the Easter season, I’m leading a Sunday morning series based on Robert Schnase’s book, Five Practices of Fruitful Congregations. The five practices are Radical Hospitality, Passionate Worship, Intentional Faith Development, Risk-Taking Mission and Service, and Extravagant Generosity. In each case, the desired result is greater fruitfulness. And in each case, that increase in fruitfulness depends upon our connection to Jesus Christ and to one another, a relationship that resembles that of a vine and its branches.
Apart from Christ, the true vine, we can do nothing. Actually, we can do plenty of things. We are amazing and resourceful creatures. But the fruit of Christ comes only from abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in us. It's not always easy to stay connected. But that's the way it works!
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An Epiphany From the Table of the Good Shepherd
Yesterday, I went with Deacon Lois Howard to see how she exercises her ministry with a group of preschool children and a group of adults who have Alzheimer’s. The preschool and the day program for the adults are in the same building in a church in Lexington. Every Wednesday morning for the last five years, Deacon Lois has gone there to minister to them in a very special way.
The Adults had their chairs arranged so that they could see Deacon Lois use the Godly Play elements as she told a story. The children paraded in and took their seats on the floor in front of the adults. Then Deacon Lois did her thing!
She told the story of “The Table of the Good Shepherd.” The story starts out in a sheepfold. Deacon Lois pointed out that each of the sheep is a different color. I think the children had already noticed that because there was glee all around. The Good Shepherd leads the sheep out of their fold and over to alarge table. After they arrive, others are invited to join them. The others, Deacon Lois pointed out as she carefully arranged them all around the table, were all kinds of people. Different from one another, just like the sheep. There were older people and children. There were men and women, boys and girls. There were people from far away and people who looked more familiar to us. She pointed out that everyone is welcome at the Table of the Good Shepherd.
For me, this was a wonderful prelude to the Fourth Sunday of Easter, also known as “Good Shepherd Sunday.” It helped me pay more attention to the flock in the passage from John. The character of the flock reveals something about the one who guides and cares for it. The fact, for example, that there are different kinds of sheep indicates that the shepherd values diversity along with unity.
I’m very grateful that the Good Shepherd values this sort of unity in the midst of diversity, yet I am aware of how difficult it is to achieve and how challenging it is to maintain. We tend to associate with people with whom we share racial, cultural, economic, and religious characteristics and values. At times we may even ridicule those who appear to be different.
The Good Shepherd calls us all, “from every nation, race, people and tongue.” Unlike the societies in which we live, in the Good Shepherd’s flock our differences are to remain as distinctions but not as separations. They enhance the color and texture of the community of believers rather than alienating or marginalizing. There is no dominant or superior group in this flock. We are all God’s people, "one flock, one Shepherd."
It is a paradox of our faith that the Good Shepherd is also the Lamb of God. Of his own accord, he laid down his life for the sheep. He paid for the undisputed right to lead us by the shedding of his blood. If we hear his voice and follow him, he will make it possible for us to live together in peace. If we can do that, as diverse a flock as we are, perhaps the flock of Christ can offer hope to our divided world. This is reason enough to cry out: Alleluia!
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Epiphany Through Doubt
The Reverend Ken Kesselus, a colleague in Texas, tells the following story:
Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”
Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.
Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”
A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy.
I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith.The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.
The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.
The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith and not by sight. And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.
That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”
P.S. Here's an old hymn based on this gospel passage and sung to a new tune by Marty Haugen.