JESUS ASCENDED, WHATEVER THAT MEANS

 

A sermon by the Rev. Dr. Marie Sheldon

Harundale Presbyterian Church

Glen Burnie, Maryland

 

June 1, 2003

 

Text:  “While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.”  (Luke 24:51)

 

Scripture Passage:  Luke 24: 44-53

 

Those of you who attended last summer’s “Questions of Faith” video series will remember that one of the renowned theologians and writers featured was a grandmotherly woman named Madeleine L’Engle.  In her book entitled The Irrational Season, this is what she had to say about the ascension of Jesus:

 

          Jesus of Nazareth was wholly man as well as wholly God.  He did die.

          For our sakes he suffered everything we suffer, even doubt.  And then

          he broke the powers of death and returned briefly to quite a few

          people – not to everybody, but enough so that his presence was noted –

          though he was never recognized on sight.  And then after a time he

          ascended, whatever that means.  (page 113)

 

          Madeleine L’Engle does a good job capturing our twenty-first-century discomfort with the ascension of Jesus Christ.  His ascension is the culmination of a story that is a mixed bag for most of us.  We can understand Jesus’ life and ministry.  He was kind, compassionate and obviously charismatic.  If he weren’t, the crowds wouldn’t have followed him.  We can understand Jesus’ passion and death.  He was a political anomaly – a thorn in the side of both traditional religious leaders and the Roman government.  Jesus’ demise was inevitable, and he didn’t run away from it.  His suffering, I believe, continues to be made real for us.  We can relate to his pain, his dejection and his death.  But at this point the Jesus story gets tough for us.  First, we have to grapple with the idea of resurrection – a phenomenon none of us has ever witnessed ourselves.  One minute the resurrected Jesus is in Jerusalem doing a little Bible study with the disciples, urging them to stay in the city until God clothes them with power.  The next minute Jesus is leading them to Bethany, what we might call a suburb of Jerusalem.  He blesses them and was suddenly carried up to heaven.  It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?  We say it in the Apostles’ Creed:  “He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty.”  Jesus ascended, whatever that means.

 

          Well, the ascension has several meanings behind it.  One was for those first-century disciples.  It was time for them to grow up – to move on.  For three years Jesus had taught them and nurtured them through his word and through his example.  Jesus had completed his mission on this planet.  It was also time for him to move on, and it was time for the disciples to assume leadership responsibilities in what would become the newborn Christian church.  It was time for goodbyes, and goodbyes are never easy for people who care about each other.  Maybe that’s why Jesus blessed his friends before he left them.

 

          It’s important for us to remember, however, that when Jesus left this earth, he did not desert the people who lived and continue to live on it.  In the Creed, when we say that Jesus “sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty,” we ought not picture a stagnant Jesus lounging in a heavenly throne.  Jesus continues to be our intermediary in heaven.  We pray in his name.  We minister in his name.  He is enthroned in heaven, but he is enthroned in each of our hearts as well.

 

          There was a renowned professor of English at Harvard University.  His name was Charles Townsend Copeland, and much of his scholarly work was centered on translations of the great classics of literature.  He loved to work by himself in a couple of small, cramped rooms on the top floor of Hollis Hall at Harvard.  On many occasions, the university administration offered to let Copeland use other more comfortable and accessible accommodations to do his work.  But the professor’s response was always the same.  He wanted to stay where he was.  In Copeland’s own words:  “It’s the only place in Cambridge where God alone is above me.  He’s busy – but he’s quiet.”

 

          This little story captures some of the theology behind the ascension.  It reminds us that in spite of our quest for creature comforts that never satisfy – in spite of all the turmoil that surrounds us in our personal and corporate lives as members of the human race, our Savior, who “sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty” continues to intercede on our behalf, busily and quietly.

 

          Along with that intercession, Jesus asks for a partnership.  One of the things he said to his disciples after teaching them about repentance and forgiveness was that they, as witnesses to him, were to proclaim the message of repentance and forgiveness beginning from Jerusalem and going to all nations after that.  The disciples were a motley band.  They got the Christian message started, but it was only a beginning.  Repentance and forgiveness are just as important today as they were two thousand years ago.

 

          Each of us has wronged other people.  Why, then, is it so difficult for us to say those two words, “I’m sorry?”  Why is it easier for us to make excuses for our unacceptable behavior, blaming it on fatigue, overwork or whatever?  Each of us has the opportunity to offer forgiveness as well as to repent.  So often we expect perfection in others. Even while we fall short of it ourselves.  Jesus taught by word and example.  If we truly want to call  ourselves his followers, his witnesses, we must teach repentance and forgiveness in the way we treat each other.

 

          Jesus ascended, whatever that means.  It means he’s still there for us when we need him.  It also means we ought to be there for him when he needs us.  Maybe the ascension isn’t so hard to understand after all.