EASTER 6 | ASCENSION | Luke 24:44-53
Fourteen years ago this summer, I was ordained a priest in the
sanctuary of the Episcopal Church of St. John’s-in-Montclair. It
was a joyous event, with many dear friends in attendance, including
Margaret Dana. One of my close friends supporting me that day was a man
named Dan Turner.
Dan was not only one of my best friends, he was my boss at the time. He
was the editor of Creation Spirituality magazine, and I was the
managing editor. Dan had, at one time, been a Roman Catholic priest.
This was during the tumultuous period of the Second Vatican Council,
where the Roman Catholic Church seemed to either be finally moving into
the twentieth century, or coming apart at the seams, depending upon
whether you were a liberal or a conservative in the church. Dan was
unquestioningly one of the former, and not long after the Council, he
left the priesthood and met a woman with a similar story, a former nun
named Elizabeth. They got married and have had lives of the
“happily-ever-after” variety.
At the reception for my ordination, I received many thoughtful gifts,
but the one that really stood out was Dan’s. It was a small
bundle, and when I opened it up I found a tiny book, with the words
ROMAN RITUAL stamped on the spine in gold. Inside, in both Latin and
English, were all of the pastoral services a Catholic priest might be
expected to perform at one time or another.
I was deeply touched, and I still cherish this book. It was not after
all, a practical gift—I neither employ the Roman Catholic rituals
nor pray in Latin. It was, instead, a symbolic gift. It was Dan’s
recognition of my call to ministry being as valid as his own, and the
passing of his Ritual book constituted for he and I, a symbolic passing
of a mantle. It was a symbol I took very seriously, both then and now,
and I pray that I have done my mentor proud.
I was reminded of this when perusing our readings for the week. These
stories are challenging ones, for it is difficult for us today to take
seriously the idea of Jesus soaring under his own power into outer
space.
But we must remember that the universe that the Gospel writers lived in
was very different from ours. For them, there was no outer space. Their
universe had three levels: heaven, earth, and the underworld. I have no
doubt that our Gospel writers meant for us to take this story
literally. He wants us to believe, and may very well have believed
himself, that Jesus rose bodily into heaven. Certainly many Christians
today, who allegedly live in the same universe we do, believe that at
the Rapture, they will do the same. Religion is funny and can move
otherwise sane people to do and believe some pretty crazy things. But I
know I’m preaching to the choir, here.
But even if our Gospel writer meant us to take this story literally, he
also meant for us to take it symbolically, for there is great symbolic
import at play, here. Consider the story where Elijah told his student
Elisha that God was going to take him, from our first reading. Elisha
pleaded with him to allow him to have a double portion of
Elijah’s spirit. Elijah knew such things were beyond his power to
grant, but not beyond God’s, so he put it in God’s hands,
and told his student, “If you see me taken away, you will have a
double portion of my spirit.”
Then, as they were walking, a fiery chariot came down from heaven,
caught up Elijah, and soared back from whence it came, carrying the
prophet bodily into heaven. As he went, he dropped his mantle, his coat
or stole. Elisha put it on, and went forth and did greater things than
his mentor had done before him.
Luke has this story in mind as he writes his account. Like Elisha, the
disciples are anxious about being left alone. Elisha asks for a double
portion of Elijah’s spirit, and though the disciples do not ask
for this, Jesus offers it to them anyway, for he tells them that after
he is gone they will do greater things than he has done. And then, like
Elisha, the disciples are blessed with the sight of Jesus being taken
up into heaven. And because they saw it, the very clear mythological
implication is that his mantle had at that moment passed from him to
them.
The sad thing about that story is that the church has done a very poor
job of carrying on Jesus’ work. The apostles’ descendents
received a double portion of his spirit, the Holy Spirit, that is true.
They received a clear mandate to go forth and preach Good News to all
creatures. That is also true. They received the power to heal to move
mountains, to raise the dead, to do all those things that Jesus himself
did. Okay, that’s arguable, but let’s say that’s
true, too. What did they do with all this power? All this promise? All
this potential?
They used it to build empires upon the backs of the poor. They used it
to gain power for themselves and make others weak. They used the
sacraments as tools to control people’s behavior and thinking.
They took Jesus’ mantle and trampled it under their feet.
Those icky people in the past! Shame on them! But what about those of
us that call ourselves Christians today? Think of the percentage of the
American people that profess to be followers of Jesus. If everyone that
called him- or herself a Christian in this nation today took Jesus
seriously, what could we do? If we wanted to, we could end hunger in
one generation. If we wanted to, we could end poverty on a global
scale. If we wanted to, we could make sure that every person alive had
access to inoculations and basic medical care. If we wanted to.
But apparently we don’t. There are Xboxes and SUVs and flat-panel
TVs to buy. There is plastic surgery that needs having and parties that
must be attended. And if the rabble have no bread, let them eat
tortillas.
You want to know the one Christian I know of that is really making a
difference, who is actually taking Jesus at his word and trying to wear
that mantle? It isn’t Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell or Billy
Graham or Robert Schuller. It’s Bono, lead singer of U2, whose
Christian faith impels him to stand nose-to-nose with polititians in
every first-world country and challenges them to do something about the
suffering in this world. What if we all did that? What if we, like the
Buddha’s disciples, actually took his admonition seriously when
he told them to “Recognize that all that lives is subject to
suffering, and strive from today that it shall be thus no more!”
It isn’t just Jesus we American Christians are letting down, of
course, but all the Veterans of this great nation that we memorialize
tomorrow. Like Jesus, they paid the ultimate sacrifice for the ideals
we profess as a nation: justice for all, liberty in body, and freedom
of thought. How do we properly honor their memory? With a day off from
work, or by striving with everything that is in us to make the ideals
they died for reality, not just for us, but for everyone?
The Good News is that God doesn’t hold our sins against us. Not
now, not ever. No matter how badly we have screwed up, God says,
“Okay, so we start here.” God is saying that to us, today.
Our ancestors did a pretty pitiful job of assuming Jesus’ mantle.
And Buddha’s followers have not done much better. Neither have
Mohommad’s, nor Krishna’s. But as the Buddha taught us, the
past is an illusion, and all that is really real is the here and now.
We can’t change the past, and except for books and our memories,
the past doesn’t even really exist. What we do have is today. And
today, Jesus’ mantle has been passed to US. To you. To me. What
are WE going to do with it. How are WE going to be Jesus to each other?
How are WE going to carry on the work that he has given us to do? How
are WE going to honor the legacy of Jesus, of Buddha, of Mohommad, of
Krishna, of the countless men and women who died in the cause of
freedom?
When Dan gave me his Roman Ritual, I understood it to be the passing of
a mantle from him to me. It is a physical reminder of the
responsibility with which I have been charged, of the mission that I am
on. As a church we have inherited this building. It, too, is a physical
reminder to create the kind of Community that Jesus wants the whole
world to be: a place where no one is an outsider, where none are
hungry, where none want for any necessary thing. For it is by learning
how to build this Community here that we can build it OUT THERE. I
think we’ve done a good job on the local level, but how do we
take this idea of Community to the world? For this is what Mohommad was
trying to build, the Ummah, the Just Society.
I don’t know the answer to this question. I do know that if every
person of faith in this nation cared to, we could move mountains. We
could end hunger, poverty, and disease. But most American Christians
can’t really be bothered.
Let’s bother. For this is the mantle that has been laid upon us.
Let’s show that we can carry it better than our ancestors did.
Let’s get behind St. Bono, and hold our political leaders
accountable to the ideals they pay lip service to. And let’s
create a community of love and grace here that will inspire others to
create them in their own neighborhoods. Let’s work for peace and
justice so that the freedom our Veterans fought and died for will not
be in vain. Let’s give of our excess money and time to make sure
others HAVE some money and leisure. Let us live simply so that others
can simply live.
This isn’t just a good idea. It’s not just a bumper
sticker. It’s what being a people of faith is all about. This is
what we are HERE FOR.
Let us pray…
I saw another bumper sticker recently that said,
“Jesus is Coming—everyone look busy!”
The problem is we are all too busy.
Jesus, help us to prioritize our busy lives
so that we can effectively be your presence in this world.
Help us to enjoy our lives while at the same time
extending sufficient compassion and care that others can enjoy theirs, as well. For this is the work you have given us.
Help us to find the time, and the will, and the means,
and the double portion of your Spirit that we need to do it well. Amen.