Overhearing Jesus

At the ascension we, like the disciples, are left looking at the sky. But in the High Priestly Prayer (John 17), Jesus brings us back to earth. In the prayer he speaks not only from the perspective of the risen and ascended one, but as the Word of God, now made flesh. The prayer anticipates the accomplishments of this Word, which does not return empty (Isa. 55:11), namely in the fulfillment of the “hour” of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. It is as if Jesus has already ascended “to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (John 20:17), and has returned to tell us something vital.

   

As we overhear Jesus, we learn that God’s character and motive are identical to those of Jesus, who has now, fully and completely, “made God’s name known.” We no longer have to speculate about the nature of God. God’s purposes and love are made known in Jesus. But we also learn about ourselves. Jesus’ prayer frequently mentions the “world”—the world at once hostile to God and God’s anointed, and yet also beloved of God (John 3:16). With Jesus’ commissioning today we have our work to do, to make God known in and through Christ Jesus. The Living One works through us as “words within the world,” who no longer seek meaning among the dead, but are empowered to make known the vibrant, new reality of Easter.

from Sundays & Seasons

Why Do You Stand Looking Up Toward Heaven?

The Ascension

We often cast our eyes upward to look for God. When we are feeling lonely or misunderstood, we raise our hands to ask why, or shake our fists in gestures of prayer, anguish, or praise. While the scriptures promise that God is king of all the earth, sitting on his holy throne (Psalm 47), we need not only look up for God’s action in our lives. Our ascended Lord lives in the heavens, but Jesus does not leave his disciples—or us—to fumble while he naps in the clouds. Before he ascends, Jesus promises that we are clothed with the Holy Spirit’s power, witnesses “to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).

“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” the two men in white robes asked the witnesses remaining after Jesus ascended. Why do we stand still in our lives? Is it that we just saw God (Look! Up there! Did you see?), so we expect God to arrive in the same way again? Can God be that expected and predictable? This story of Jesus ascending to the heavens after his time with us on earth gives us mixed feelings: we know he’s returning to where he belongs—out of this world full of brokenness and sin to holiness and glory. Still, our longing is intense: Lord, we want to see you! How will we know it is you when you come again?

Ascension Day could be explained as the cynical “I’m outta here” of a God weary of us self-centered, broken humans, but that explanation would be short-sighted because it leaves out the important stop on the cross. Instead, Jesus’ departure is accompanied with the promise of the Spirit’s presence remaining among us. We look up to the skies for help, then return our gaze to those among us in need of our care, to the body of Christ and the wind of the Spirit among the baptized, preparing for the time when Jesus comes again to gather us in.

From Sundays & Seasons

Welcomed with Open Arms

Thomas is not the only one missing from the assembly the Sunday after Easter Sunday. We are not told why Thomas is missing, but we do know why plenty of other folks are absent from the assembly: vacations, traveling, spring break for the kids.

   

Thomas is criticized for doubting, but he asks for nothing more than the same experience of the risen Christ the rest of the disciples had. By the grace of God, Jesus returns a second time and offers his body as living proof to Thomas. In the presence of Jesus, Thomas discovers he did not need the proof he demanded. Thomas’ story is our story. We are not always where we need to be. Sometimes we even find ourselves in places we should not be at all. But Jesus comes to us, seeking us out and giving us the gift of faith. Thomas is not criticized, he is not condemned. Instead Jesus loves Thomas back into a relationship and shows the disciples what the words “Peace be with you” mean when lived out.

   

The resurrection promise can be heard through Peter’s powerful preaching in the reading from Acts as well. Jesus will triumph over death. Peter points to Jesus’ death on the cross, but what of the little ways we die? The loss of relationships, the ending of friendships, the pain of being alone and left out, the despair of losing a job, the doubt that comes on the heels of a negative diagnosis. Jesus comes to bring a holy peace and resurrection into the world in these times as well. Now is an opportunity to proclaim the power of the resurrection and the grace of God, who welcomes Thomas with open arms.

     

From Sundays & Seasons

Hidden with Christ

Easter turns the world upside down. It defies our expectations with hiddenness and bluntness: Mary does not recognize the resurrected Jesus (John 20:14), the good news is heralded by an earthquake and terrifying angels and is brought to the women of the church first, rather than to the Twelve (Matt. 28:1-10). The radical reversals prophesied in scripture and revealed in Christ’s life and ministry culminate in the good news we proclaim today: Christ, through death, has triumphed over death. “The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone” (Ps. 118:22).

 

Easter offers the mystical possibility of transformation in every moment. In this season, what is dying and what is being born? For our communities? For our families? For our world? What is breaking open like a seed to die (John 12:24) so that new life might thrive?

 

The theme is framed candidly in Colossians: “You have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3:3). In the season of Easter, we are invited to allow old husks to fall away so that Christ’s new life may emerge. This part of the resurrection story is strange, unsettling. We are invited, after all, to share fully in Christ’s death as well as his resurrection (Rom. 6:5; 2 Cor. 4:10-11). Terrifying, but in the mystery of the Holy Spirit’s work in us, we receive it as hope (1 Peter 1:3).

 

On this Easter day, we are honest about how God is stirring us to transformation, and we may be called to faithfully lament the letting go. Almost simultaneously, as we embody Christ’s resurrection in the present, we celebrate it with great joy (Matt. 28:8). In our desire to be hidden in Christ’s abundant life (John 10:10), we can even name seasons of suffering as Christ’s resurrection emerging (Phil. 3:10).

 

From Sundays & Seasons

It Is Finished

Throughout his ministry Jesus turned things on their heads: the last became first, the poor were blessed, the blind could see. In parable and miracle Jesus brought a dominion that was set against the kingdoms of this world. In the circumstances of his death, he did away with the accepted structures of power and weakness, justice and retribution. Jesus’ crucifixion was the ultimate manifestation of the paradox of the dominion of God: the king who only days before rode triumphantly into the royal city is crucified as a criminal. The Messiah is a suffering servant. The Son of God is willing to die so that we can live.

 

John’s gospel tells the story of how God accomplished, in Jesus, the fulfillment of scriptural prophecy about the one who would bring God’s people into reconciliation with God’s own self. In the story of the passion, Jesus’ inexorable journey toward the cross, which is the culmination of this prophecy, picks up speed. Then, with Jesus’ dying breath, the journey is over. With the words “It is finished,” Jesus’ mission is complete. His passion and his suffering are finished; the centuries-long wait for the Messiah is finished. God’s ultimate disruption of our efforts to save ourselves, and the astounding reversal of human expectations, is accomplished.

 

On Good Friday, we meditate on the consequences of God’s sacrifice, the church proclaims the good news that the cross of Christ is not only necessary, but also sufficient for our salvation. With the command of Maundy Thursday lingering in our ears and hearts, Good Friday reminds us that the freedom to obey Jesus comes as a gift from God through the cross of Christ. At the cross, our old life of captivity to sin is finished, and our new life of discipleship begins.

 

From Sundays & Seasons