"Rise"

Sermon Text: Acts 1:6-11

June 1, 2014: Ascension

First Congregational UCC – Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

The author of the Book of Acts wastes no time getting to the good stuff. Nine short verses in and Jesus is flying through the air on a cloud (I imagine, Superman-style) leaving his friends behind, speechless.

For the early followers of Jesus, the story of his Ascension was handy in several ways: First, on a very practical note, the early Church needed some way to explain what happened to Jesus after the Resurrection. Since there were stories about Jesus’s once-dead-now-alive body being sighted after his crucifixion, the early followers had to have some way of explaining what happened to that resurrected body….because he wasn’t around any more. Second, in a more metaphorical sense, the story of Christ’s Ascension tells an important truth about who the early followers of the Way found him to be….their Lord, Ruler, Supreme Authority, Leader. By telling the story of Christ’s ascent into the Heavens over and over again, Jesus’s early followers were clearly communicating that they experienced the Risen Christ as their Ruler – one with authority. It’s no accident that Jesus ascended into the sky just as Elijah did before him.

So since we’re talking about a guy who was previously dead flying up into the sky on a cloud, now might be a good time to pause and talk a bit about difficult texts in the Bible. When we start talking about miraculous stories in the Bible…things that defy our understanding of how the world is supposed to work on a regular basis, there are lots of different ways to deal with our discomfort. Many modern people have said, “Okay, that’s ridiculous, Jesus didn’t fly up in a cloud. This is a silly religion,” and have checked out. That’s probably not you or me because we’re still here, listening to these stories and finding meaning within them.

Some folks REALLY need to find a way to make the miracle possible. So they jump through all kinds of hoops seeking to find a way to explain the miracle. Other folks just say, “Well, the Bible says it, so it happened. It’s a miracle, after all. It’s not meant to be explained.” Other people don’t feel like they need to have an answer. They think, “I wasn’t there. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter to me.”

I am not here to pass judgment on whatever way you make peace with the miraculous stories in our holy texts. I think there are probably lots of good ways to deal with them. But deal with them we must because our tradition is full of them.

The general method that is working for me these days is to ask myself, “What truth is being taught in this story?”

When I start to wonder, “Did this REALLY happen?” I remind myself that something doesn’t have to have literally taken place to be true. There are deep truths contained within many stories that did not literally take place. Marcus Borg often writes about this way of looking at things. His fancy word for it is post-critical naïveté.  It is the ability to re-encounter our Christian stories as deeply true without needing them to be factually true.

So the question for me is always, “What truth is being communicated through this story?”

As Jesus ascends into the clouds, I see several truths. I see a group of people left behind, startled and probably feeling a little nervous and discombobulated. I see that Jesus has left the building, so to speak, and his followers are trying to figure out what happens next. I also see that the author of Acts has already given us clues about what is supposed to happen next. We are told that the disciples will have the job of being witnesses…to Jerusalem, to Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth. And we are told that God sends messengers to the disciples to tell them, “Hey. Stop staring up at the sky. Don’t worry. Jesus isn’t gone for long.”

What does it mean to follow the Ascended One? What does it mean to say that we experience Christ as Elevated in that way? The early followers of Jesus thought he’d be back right away…but he wasn’t. At least not in the ways they anticipated. Do we, 21^st Century Christians, experience Christ as Elevated, Ascended in some way?

I’ve been thinking a lot about elevation lately. I’ve been getting a feel for the hills in Manhattan on my bike. We bought a house about 4.5 miles away from the church and when I rode in the first time I thought, “Hmmm…there are a lot of ups and downs here, but I generally feel like I am going down to come into town.” Sure enough, when it was time to get home, the overall trend was upwards. People think Kansas is flat, but we all know that is not the case in this part of the state. There’s nothing quite like climbing up to the Radio Tower Hill at the Konza Prairie to remind you that this area is not flat at all. It’s a view to be savored.

Since I started running and cycling, I’ve learned a few things about elevation. I never used to think about hills much when I drove everywhere. It’s amazing how I can drive the same route every day for a year and never notice a hill, but as soon as I’m on my bike or on foot the hill is quite obvious. When I first started cycling and running, I tried to avoid hills if I could. I would re-route myself to sneak out of having to deal with them. Of course, I quickly learned that there really is no way to avoid a hill. If you have to get from Point A to Point B and Point B is higher than Point A, you are going to have to climb at some point in time. You get to choose the route, but you’ll be climbing either way.

I’ve learned that my equipment is my best friend. I invested a few years ago in a quality bike and learned how to use all those gears…and that made all the difference in the world. The other day I got a flat tire on the way home from work and, boy, was that a good reminder of just how important my equipment really is.

So it is as we seek to follow the Ways of Christ: the equipment matters. If we try to go it alone we will find that we are ill-prepared. But if we surround ourselves with community for the journey….if we bring along people who can uplift and support us, we find that the work is made easier. That’s why I come to church. I need this community to travel with me. I can’t do it on my own.

Of course, there are times on any journey where you feel like you’re alone. Your community may be far away. Your equipment may fail. In those moments, I have found myself digging deep as I struggle to continue the climb. I remind myself of those opening words to that wonderful creed from the Church of Canada that we often say here, “We are not alone. We live in God’s world.”

We are not alone. God is always there with us. The disciples were not left alone when Jesus ascended into heaven. There is no place we can go to get away from God. When we are in the midst of a particularly brutal part of our journey, sometimes we just have to gut it out and remind ourselves, “I am not alone. I am not alone.”

I once knew a woman who was in the midst of transitioning from male to female and she felt totally alone. Her family had completely abandoned her. She was jobless and homeless. Pretty much all she had in the way of love and support was her church. One day she posted on Facebook about how difficult life was and one of her friends from church responded and said something like, “I wish there was a way to fix all of this, but there’s not. In times like these, sometimes you just have to grab ahold of Jesus and hold on as tight as you can. Just keep holding on.”

I thought to myself: truer words have never been said.

In the midst of the deepest crises of our lives, sometimes the only thing we can do is find Jesus and hold on tight. Tight, tight, tight.

And the One who descended into the deepest depths of Hell that can be experienced on Earth, the One who was betrayed, murdered, and ridiculed….well, he’ll just hold right on to us, too.

Because if Christ has been to the darkest depths of Hell-on-Earth and also ascended to the highest heights of Heaven, then I do believe Christ can go with us anywhere we find ourselves.

We are not alone. We live in God’s world.

As I pondered elevation and Christ’s Ascension this week, I couldn’t help, of course, but think of Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still I Rise.” If you aren’t familiar with it, I urge you to find it later, but the opening stanza is this:

You may write me down in history


With your bitter, twisted lies,


You may tread me in the very dirt


But still, like dust, I'll rise.

“Like dust, I’ll rise.” If that isn’t the voice of the Resurrected and Ascended Christ, I don’t know what is.

Like Jesus, Angelou spoke with the authority of one who has been marginalized and dismissed, yet still keenly understood her worth. In the face of a world that constantly told her “No, no, no,” because she was a Black woman, Angelou kept saying “Yes, yes, yes,” pedaling and moving forward. She understood her worth as a Beloved Child of God and inspired countless others to do the same. Our worth does not come to us because of our race or our gender or our wealth or our abilities or our health or anything else…our worth is secured because we are Beloved Children of God. Period.

As we sit in the reality of the final week of the Great Easter Season, it seems to me that Angelou’s poem is a Great Easter Hymn.

We are the ones called to witness to the Great Love of Jesus and to be Christ in the world. We may lose our way from time to time, but still, we rise.

We are the ones urged and cheered on as we work day after day to ascend to the heights Christ calls us to reach. And we are the ones comforted and consoled when we find ourselves in the depths of destruction. Like Christ, we die. Like Christ, we rise.

As we gather at the table today to remember the Life, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ – still, we rise. Thanks be to God.