Methodist people are pretty hopeless at marking Ascension Day. We just go from the Easter stories to Whit Sunday. But if we do that we miss out a major bit of christology. It’d be rather like getting a book out of the library and discovering a crucial chapter has been torn out so the next chapter doesn’t make sense. Or it’s like sleeping through an episode of a box set and waking up half way through the next one not having a clue where you are in the story.
Today we join the disciples on the mountain and we look up with them. We gather for worship and then we are summoned to work. The disciples had an experience of divine power which left them stunned. We will come to that later. They worshipped because there was nothing else first to do.
We went to Newport Cathedral in South Wales on Palm Sunday. We know the new Dean there, Ian Black. I’ve enjoyed receiving worship. In Newport, I was deeply moved by the rood of the crucified Christ above us. I couldn’t stop looking at it through the service. It reminded me that we are never alone. The broken, crucified and risen Jesus is above us and before us every day. On this Sunday, what will worship here do to you? What will you looking up to a power beyond you do because you’ve gathered here together today?
In his excellent book Disciples Together: Discipleship, formation and small groups Roger Walton points out that: ‘Worship is a transitive verb. Worship always has an object. We do not worship; rather we worship God.”
To borrow a phrase from Charles Wesley, the disciples in our story in a bit are ‘lost in wonder, love and praise’. Let’s hope we are today too. It will lead to all sorts of things.
What must it have been like to be at the mountain with Jesus that day? Those poor disciples must have had brain ache. He dies, he rises, he appears, he disappears and now he gathers them for a momentous moment and none of them could really have expected what happened next. Look at the picture on the screen. We went to York Minster and this ceiling boss was pointed out to us. At first look I thought it was a depiction of the last supper but it isn’t. It shows the feet of Jesus disappearing upwards into heaven, surrounded by the apostles who were witnesses to the event. You’d be left a bit stunned if you’d been there wouldn’t you? Jesus surprises you right to the end. No wonder you stare at the sky for a bit. Maybe good theophanies should do that. We rush from worship to coffee. We rush from worship to fellowship. I had a church once which was obsessed with raising money from hiring out every space including the worship space. My property steward used to take about five seconds before he started moving chairs. Worship was over. Pilates was in there next morning!
I’ll share with you if you come and hear about sabbatical my times of awe in sacred spaces I found which were hard to leave quickly. One was soon after the Russian invasion of Ukraine when we were at Elvet Methodist Church in Durham. I had sat through the most powerful and radical sermon on the state of the world I’ve heard in years. The preacher was fabulous, every hymn he chose, every prayer he prayed helped that congregation find God in the context of madness that March morning. Another was Good Friday when we gathered in St Mary’s on Holy Island. The vicar, Sarah told us we wouldn’t be getting a sermon but we would watch a film of the stations of the cross for Ukraine. It was half an hour of images of suffering with each station ending with “ help us never to look away.” We were wrung out after the service and no one moved or spoke for ages.
I think I want to say to you first this morning that worship, a bit of intentional staring should matter more. We are quick to say what we like and dislike about services, and we don’t like it going on too long! Let’s be honest about it.
But those disciples are challenged not to stand there for ever…
“They were looking intently into the sky as He was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. “Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen Him go into heaven.”
Luke has two versions of this story it’s so important to him. I’m inviting the Circuit tonight to a service at Kirkby Malzeard at 6.30 when I’ll be thinking about the other version of it at the end of his Gospel. I really feel for those disciples. Walking away from the mountain, bemused by angels rocking up as so often happens in the Gospels, they must have asked each other “what do we do now?” And what was this power from on high they were told to wait for? And how might Jesus return?
My friends, not only do we not do Ascension, we don’t really think about Jesus’ coming back. Do we!? We say in our creed: “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. His kingdom will never end.” If you read some of the New Testament letters, the earliest writings after Jesus time on earth, then you will feel a sense of urgency in those infant churches. That judgment stated in the Nicene Creed might be soon and how your life was, mattered. We’ve all got a bit complacent and we don’t expect him to come. Raising money for the boiler matters more than fleeing from the wrath to come!
John Wesley you know was once asked what he would do if he knew this was his last day on earth. He replied, “At 4 o’clock I would have some tea. At 6 I would visit Mrs. Brown in the hospital. Then at 7:30 I would conduct a mid-week prayer service. At 10 I would go to bed and would wake up in glory.”
In college I remember being taught about the scholar Conzelmann who called where we are now, between Jesus returning to heaven and his second coming, the era of the Church. One day, Jesus will come back but for now we look after his work and help anticipate his Kingdom. How’s this for a quote I found?
“Our world is in a terrible condition, some say. But Jesus is coming, and soon. Sin and death dominate, but Jesus is coming, and sin and death can’t prevent Him from coming.
When I think about the difficulties of life, the suffering I’ve seen in the lives of those I love, of my own struggle and problems and weaknesses, I am ultimately comforted only by one truth: Jesus is coming again, and all of those things will end.”
Those disciples were told not to keep staring at the sky but to start being the church. For ten days they reflected on all they had been caught up in, and they went to worship and at Pentecost, in the buzz and excitement of a party in Jerusalem, they were empowered to start being the Church. I guess we need to get on with it. We are entrusted with Jesus story and values until we don’t need the Church anymore. It’s easier to stand and stare for ever. When you are not the Superintendent of the Circuit, some Methodist news doesn’t get to you. I didn’t realise this last week they held a service in Methodist Church House in London to mark the end of the Church in that vast nine floor building. We are apparently sharing Church House in Westminster with the Anglicans for a bit before our new HQ in Tavistock Place is built. Don’t start me on that when little rural chapels in my care are struggling to pay the bills.
I worked in that building for five years from 1986 to 1991 when it was the Overseas Division. I was a shy thing when I started there. My boss was the splitting image of Captain Mainwaring. His name was Victor Edgson. When I stood staring, he’d bark at me “stop following me around like a lap dog. Get on with your work!” I needed telling. There is work to do, urgent work, work to tell people the story, to remind them of God, to feed the hungry, shelter the homeless and heal the sick.
All will be well, the angels almost tell us. Bedale and District folk I’m sure you don’t faff about here. I won’t name the church but I sat in a meeting this week where we again talked about getting new outside notice boards. We’ve been talking about getting new outside notice boards for a year and a half. We’ve had meetings where we’ve been outside and stared at our awful current ones. We cannot make a decision. This week I was tempted to say “just go and buy a new board!” But no, it will be on the agenda in July when we meet again. Sometimes we just need to get on with stuff!
A time to worship and stare, a reminder this is the era of the Church and a call to be confident that we still have a task and can make a difference.
Sometimes things have to die in order for there to be new life. Luke’s two accounts of the Ascension underline this.
The Ascension as the ending of Jesus’ physical presence on earth must have been a bittersweet moment. Goodbyes are hard.
The Ascension as the beginning of the mission of the church anticipates Pentecost which we celebrate next Sunday along with the Jubilee. I hope our worship next Sunday might be a real celebration. Jesus’ ministry of setting the captive free and preaching good news to the poor is about to be released in a very needy, hungry world. And until he comes, we must continue this ministry, the ministry he has begun in us. We should take God to others and share the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus and that God loves us. And we should be ready to be surprised a bit…
Let me end this morning with a story. A minister was seeking a new focus for the church he worked with. The church had a lovely congregation but they needed something that might enable them to try and grow their church. One Sunday evening, while cooking dinner in the manse kitchen, the minister spotted on social media a message from the town Lions Club they were looking for a space to open a community larder. The minister immediately e mailed some of the folk in the church as there was a room that hadn’t been used for years that might work. The Church Council met and unanimously agreed they would donate the room just asking for donations for heat and light. Several planning meetings were held with the Church working with the Lions, a community care group and the local supermarket community champion who had lots of food to give away. The larder opened eight weeks ago, having recruited volunteers and the room transformed with a good paint and old benches removed and a new floor laid and fridges and shelving installed all donated by the community. Every Wednesday a steady queue of folk started to come.
This last week some of the church decided to try and serve refreshments before the larder opened. They weren’t expecting very many people. They were amazed what happened. For an hour and a half, the church hall was full of folk enjoying being together, and a lot of families. The minister was there and made all sorts of contacts and even arranged a baptism, which will be the first in that church for several years. The ladies who served the refreshments kept saying “isn’t this amazing?“ and this all happened because different groups all wanting to make life better for people. That church is now buzzing with excitement. Where’s that church? Boroughbridge! And it’s just really exciting.
I read this sentence in a book Keith Phipps lent me on Friday:
“ The future is guaranteed by the outlandishness of a God who does impossible things with improbable people.”
So what do we do now? We’ve worshiped, we’ve looked up to heaven, we’ve seen feet disappear, we’ve been challenged by angels, we’ve been told there is work to do before he comes again. We are not alone. We have enough to be the Church so let’s not be downhearted… and let’s get on with it…
I’ll end with this benediction I love:
Life is short and we do not have too much time
to gladden the hearts of those who walk with us.
So be ready to love and unhesitating in kindness.
And may the blessing of the deep mystery we name God –
Source of life, love and hope,
Word of life,
and ever-present Spirit of grace
be with us this day and all our days. Amen.
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