"Called to Live Courageously." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Luke 19 during Stewardship season.

"Zacchaeus Tree." Sycamore tree in Jericho.

"Called to Live Courageously"

Luke 19:1-10; 1 Timothy 6:17-19; Proverbs 3:5-10

         The story of Zacchaeus is pure gospel.  It's a story of how a person's life was changed by encounter with Jesus the Christ.  It’s a story of transformation. 

            Zacchaeus climbed the sycamore tree because he was trying to see who Jesus was. What he’d heard about Jesus, we don't know.  But somehow, somewhere, he had heard something that caused him to wonder.

            Now, Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector, and a wealthy person.  What he needed, he could get for himself.  What he wanted he could buy.  Zacchaeus was not a needy person-- or so it seemed. 

            Yet, appearances can be deceptive.  Zacchaeus, as a chief tax collector, oversaw an operation by which taxes were collected from his people-- his fellow Jews-- on behalf of the Romans who had conquered and were now occupying the country.  A tax collector paid a certain amount for the franchise and was allowed to collect and keep for himself an amount over above what was owed to the governments.  In the right hands, it was a lucrative racket.

            As you can imagine, tax collectors were not popular.  They were resented, not only for their wealth, but for the way they came by it.  They were considered traitors, both to their country and to their religion.  As a tax collector, Zacchaeus was ostracized as a "sinner,” regarded as one of the lost sheep of Israel.

            Yet on that day, when Jesus walked through the streets of Jericho, Zacchaeus had the courage to step out of his comfort zone, to humble himself to climb a tree so he could see Jesus. 

            When Jesus looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today,” Zacchaeus responded by hurrying down and was happy to welcome Jesus into his home.

            The people who were there started grumbling and saying, “Jesus is going to be the guest of one who is a sinner.”

           

            The story gives us a glimpse of another side to Zacchaeus.  None of his neighbors saw it.  The label they had attached to him-- “sinner"--- kept them from seeing it.  The people who knew Zacchaeus saw him as a "sinner"-- unredeemable...unchangeable.  Maybe Zacchaeus had heard it so often that he thought so too. 

            But there was something-- some kind of inner discontent...  a yearning, perhaps, that made him curious about Jesus, and ultimately, vulnerable to change.

            Most people who looked at Zacchaeus missed it.  But not Jesus.  He looked past the "sinner" label and caught sight of a "son of Abraham."  

            Jesus looked at Zacchaeus through the eyes of love, and, beneath the layers of greed and selfishness, he saw a glimmer of God's image. He saw a spark that could light a fire.

            Something inside of Zacchaeus had urged him to get to where he could see Jesus.  Maybe he had heard that Jesus had a different attitude toward "sinners" than most people.  But, by climbing that tree, Zacchaeus may well have been seeking more than a good view.  It may have been his way of reaching out to something or someone who might help him change whatever needed changing in his life.  So it was that Jesus spied Zacchaeus and called him down-- not just from the tree-- but into a new life.

            The story of Zacchaeus reminds us that human beings have more capacity for transformation than we are apt to think.  And the story goes on to suggest that what transforms people is love.   

            Think about it.  Can you think of anything else that can bring about lasting change in human beings?

            I'm convinced of this:  you can't change another person or yourself by demanding it.  You can't coerce someone into a new way of life.  It takes something else-- something we can see in the case of Zacchaeus.

            The transformation that took place in Zacchaeus started when Jesus looked at him through the eyes of love and spoke to him as if he counted for something.  Jesus looked up at him in the tree and said, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today."

            It's GRACE-- love and acceptance that Zacchaeus had done nothing to deserve.

            Zacchaeus met someone who looked at him through the eyes of love...  who gave him a taste of the love of God.  And that changed him.  

            If that's going to happen today, if some of the "lost causes" you know are going to experience that kind of love-- it needs to happen through you.  God's love can become real to them if they experience it in the way you relate to them.   

            The point of the story of Zacchaeus is what the whole of the New Testament wants us to know:  only love can save us.  There is no love so strong and powerful as the love of Christ. 

            But many people today will never experience that love, unless they know it through you… through us.   

            Jesus corrects the disciples' mistaken assumption about faith-- that faith is something we can measure...  something we possess or acquire. Faith is a matter of our relationship with God, that begins as a response to God's gift.  Faith is a matter of trust and confidence in the freeing power of God's love for us and the power of God to fulfill God's promises. 

            Faith means freedom-- the freedom to give up the anxious and impossible task of keeping ourselves from falling.  Faith means freedom to stop thinking of ourselves as the source of our own life and hope, freedom to give up the struggle to control everything by our own power.  It means freedom to be at home in the presence of a loving God.^[1]

            Faith means trusting that God has not given us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.  Faith means relying on the power of God who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to God's own purpose and grace.^[2]

            The membership of the Littlefield congregation has been in decline for decades, since the demographics in the surrounding neighborhoods began to change and then changes in society that have resulted in fewer and fewer people affiliating with faith communities.

            The people of Littlefield Church could have given up, saying “we’re too small to make a difference.” 

            But that isn’t what happened.  Over the years, Littlefield has reached out to the community and witnessed for peace and justice in a variety of ways.   Our summer Peace Camp has touched the lives of hundreds of young people who have learned how to be peace builders. 

            Over the years, Littlefield Church has provided a place where people can come together to hear the voices of peacemakers.  And we have brought people from different faith traditions together to learn about one another and to find ways to pray and work together.

We live in a world which gives us every reason to hunker down… to say we can’t do anything about all the injustice and violence in the world.  We live in a world that encourages us to define ourselves according to how different we are from others – from other cultures, other countries, other faiths, other tribes.   We live in a world that prompts us to be full of fear-- to hold on, and to close down, rather than to let go and open up.  We live in a world that feels like it’s tottering on the brink-- a world very like the world of first century Palestine into which walked an itinerant Jewish teacher who changed history forever.


As I was looking through some of my study notes this week, I was reminded that 7 or 8 years ago we hosted Jewish activist Mark Braverman.  Mark told us that we are living in prophetic times, and that the church is called.[3]    He quoted Jim Wallis: “when politics fail, broad social movements emerge to change the political wind.  Look at the movement to end Jim Crow in America.  Look at the global movement to end apartheid in South Africa.  Where were they born, who were the leaders?  The church in the U.S. is poised to fulfill this historic calling, as it has done before in recent history.”

This is no time for us to live small, safe lives, constricted by our fears that we don’t have enough, that we’re too small or inadequate to make a difference.

The words of Martin Luther King, writing from the Birmingham jail fifty-five years ago, speak to us with an uncanny resonance today, in the twenty-first century:

The judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.

            Twenty-first century North American culture is presenting unprecedented challenges for the church and a new sense of what it means to practice our faith courageously. This includes our understanding of the spiritual discipline of stewardship and how we live that out through our generosity. We are called to trust in God’s goodness and abundance…to think generously… to practice generosity… and to do so courageously.

            It takes courage to follow Jesus and live a life trusting in God, especially if we’re seeking to be good stewards, or managers, of all God has entrusted to us-- including our own lives and the Good News itself.

            When people have courage, they usually show mental or moral strength to overcome their fears and to keep moving forward.   In the midst of troubling times, it takes courage to reaffirm God’s presence, power and love as the only foundation on which we can stand.

            Psalm 31:24 says, “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord.”

            We can live courageously when we learn to recognize ourselves as God’s beloved daughters and sons, despite our weaknesses and whatever frightening things might be going on around us.

            We can learn to live courageously when we trust in the LORD with all our heart. When we honor God with our substance and with the first fruits of our lives, we will taste God’s abundance.[4]  When we set our hopes on God, rather than the uncertainty of wealth, we can be freed to be rich in good works, to be generous, and willing to share…and we can take hold of the life that is real.[5]

            We can trust that “God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power and of love and a sound mind.”[6]

            Thanks be to God!

       

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

October 21, 2018

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^[1] Craig Dykstra, Growing in the Life of Faith (Geneva Press, 1999), p. 19.

^[2]2 Timothy 1:7 - 9.

[3] Mark Braverman, “A New Thing Springs Forth.”  Sermon preached at Wyoming Presbyerian Church, Milburn, NJ March 21, 2010.  www.markbraverman.org

[4] Proverbs 3:5-10

[5] 1 Timothy  6:17-19/

[6] 2 Timothy 1:7.

A Meditation on the 50th Anniversary of the Assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King

            April 4, 1968.   For those of us who are old enough to remember, that day is indelibly etched in our memories. I was a sophomore in college, at West Chester State, near Philadelphia--  a kid from rural Pennsylvania. We didn’t have the internet, and I didn’t even have a TV at school, so we didn’t have the amount of information available to us that we take for granted today.

            But I remember exactly where I was when I heard that Dr. King had been killed. A friend showed up at my part-time job at a community center and told me, and he offered me a ride back to campus.  I have vivid memories of being part of an ecumenical community memorial service a few days later. I had been inspired by what I knew about Dr. King, and I remember the despair I felt when he was assassinated.

            For a long time, a lot of people have had a tendency to freeze the memory of Martin Luther King in August of 1963, at the time of his “I have a dream speech.”  A lot of people have appropriated-- or misappropriated his words to promote their own agendas.

            If we are to honor Dr. King’s legacy, we need to recognize how the events of the last few years of his life had impacted him. On Christmas Eve 1967, a few months before he died, he told his congregation at Ebenezer Baptist Church that the first time he saw the dream turn into a nightmare was just a few weeks after the March on Washington, in September of 1963, “when four beautiful, unoffending, innocent Negro girls were murdered in a church in Birmingham, Alabama.” He went on, “ I watched that dream turn into a nightmare as I moved through the ghettos of the nation and saw my black brothers and sisters perishing on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity, and saw the nation doing nothing to grapple with the Negroes’ problem of poverty. I saw that dream turn into a nightmare as I watched my black brothers and sisters in the midst of anger and understandable outrage, in the midst of their hurt, in the midst of their disappointment, turn to misguided riots to try to solve that problem. I saw that dream turn into a nightmare as I watched the war in Vietnam escalating, and as I saw so-called military advisers, 16,000 strong, turn into fighting soldiers until today over 500,000 American boys are fighting on Asian soil.”[1]

Dr. King comforted the families of those little girls and preached their funerals, and struggled with the fact that the church was bombed partly because it had been a focal point for Birmingham’s community in the struggle he had led just months before.[3]

Dr. King was going through a rapid transformation from a civil rights leader to a human rights activist. He came to see himself as an advocate for the poor and oppressed wherever they were.  He began working to bring together people of all races and parts of the country, anyone who was impacted by poverty and injustice.  His focus had broadened to social and economic justice for all and demanding workers’ rights, environmental justice, antiwar activism.

In December 1967, Dr. King announced a Poor People’s March on Washington he was organizing to demand better jobs, better homes, better education--better lives than the ones they were living.

During this time, in the eyes of many, Dr. King was seen as a “communist dupe,” “troublemaker,” ‘traitor,” or “naïve, because he was challenging the status quo and opposing the Vietnam War and speaking out against the triple evils of materialism and systemic poverty, of militarism, and racism.  He had become unpopular and discouraged. Even some people close to him were telling him that it was wrong for him to take on economic injustice.

A few months before his death, Dr. King said, “the movement for social change has entered a time of temptation to despair.  He had his struggles and was tempted to walk away. But he stayed steadfast in his commitment to work to confront the power structure and injustice.[2]

I have to admit that off and on I struggle with discouragement.   It’s hard to stay energized and focused over the years.  

Soon after I moved to Detroit, our Detroit Presbytery formed an Anti-Racism Team, and a diverse group of around 20 of us began the hard work of becoming a team and learning and strategizing together to address systemic racism. Some of our members were old enough and engaged enough that they had marched with Dr. King. In one of our early sessions, one of the laments we heard expressed was: “Back in the sixties, we thought we would have made more progress by now!”

That was twenty years ago. Since then, we’ve gone through a time when a lot of people were talking for a while about how we were living in a post-racial society. But it’s obvious that’s not where we are. The work is not done.

This fiftieth anniversary year is bringing people together to re-focus and re-group. This is not a time for us to be satisfied with talk about being kind to one another-- although I’m certainly in favor of kindness.

I agree with the Rev. Jim Wallis, founder of Sojourners, who often has challenging words for white people and said earlier today, “Without confession of the sin of white racism, white supremacy, white privilege, people who call themselves white Christians will never be free.” He said that white Christians must confess the sins of colonialism and racism, “including in the highest levels of power….”  “Confession must lead to action….[because] racism is more than individual behavior, and repentance is more than saying ‘you’re sorry.’”[3]

It gives me hope that religious activists from a wide range of faith communities have came together today in our nation’s capital and Memphis and other cities to re-commit themselves to carry on the work of dismantling systemic racism.

It gives me hope that a growing number of people from faith communities, organized labor and other activists are coming together to be part of a new Poor People’s Campaign, beginning on the day after Mother’s Day.

As the Rev. William Barber II, one of the directors of the Poor People’s Campaign, said earlier today: “We cannot be those who merely love the tombs of the prophets. We do not celebrate assassinations and killings of our prophets. We find the place they fell. We reach down in the blood. We pick up the baton, and carry it forward. And we must.”[4]

            Dr. Martin Luther King continues to inspire us today.  In his last sermon, in Memphis, on the night before he was killed, Dr. King said, “We’ve got to say to the nation: We know how it’s coming out. For when people get caught up with that which is right and they are willing to sacrifice for it, there is no stopping point short of victory.

            So let us be caught up with that which is right. Let us be willing to sacrifice for it, and work together for a moral renewal in our nation!  Let us pick up the baton and carry it forward!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

April 4, 2018

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[1] http://www.beaconbroadside.com/broadside/2017/12/martin-luther-king-jrs-christmas-sermon-peace-still-prophetic-50-years-later.html

[2] https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/king-was-unpopular-and-demoralized-before-he-died-he-pressed-on-anyway/2018/04/03/06f9f1d0-345b-11e8-8bdd-cdb33a5eef83_story.html?utm_term=.07a76718439e

[3] https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/04/04/on-the-anniversary-of-martin-luther-kings-death-faith-groups-sharpen-their-focus-on-systemic-racism/?utm_term=.cfb0a8c24d0f

[4] https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/04/04/on-the-anniversary-of-martin-luther-kings-death-faith-groups-sharpen-their-focus-on-systemic-racism/?utm_term=.cfb0a8c24d0f

"Take Heart". A sermon on Matthew 14:22-33 on the Sunday after Charlottesville.

"Alt-right" members protest the removal of the Robert E. Lee Statue in Charlottesville, Virginia.

            What a week this has been! Earlier in the week, I was reminded that on August 9, 1945 the United States dropped a nuclear bomb on Nagasaki, Japan, killing tens of thousands of people. Three days before that, the United States dropped a nuclear bomb on Hiroshima. That week, more than 100,000 people died instantly, and tens of thousands more in the following days and weeks.

            Then we heard that our president responded to North Korea’s nuclear tests by threatening them with “fire and fury like the world has never seen”--on the day before Nagasaki Day.

            Of the roughly 15,000 nuclear bombs in the world, about half of them are owned by the U.S. We have bombs that are 80 times stronger than the Hiroshima bomb.  Cumulatively, the firepower of our nuclear arsenal is equivalent to 50,000 Hiroshima bombs. It only takes 100 nuclear bombs to make the world uninhabitable — and we have an estimated 7,000.  Lord, have mercy!

            Also, this week, we heard that the Dar Al Farooq mosque near Minneapolis was bombed while worshipers were gathered for morning prayers, in an “act of terrorism.”

            Through the week, as we heard about North Korea and nuclear threats, I thought that was where this sermon was headed. But now many of us are lamenting what's been happening in Charlottesville, Virginia. I think a lot of sermons got re-written yesterday.

            In any case, I think a lot of us can relate to the fearful disciples in the boat, as they were tossed about on a stormy sea.

            In the fourteenth chapter of Matthew, Jesus and the disciples have, in the face of apparent scarcity, miraculously fed a crowd of more than 5,000 people and discovered that there was enough for everyone. Then Jesus sends the disciples back across the lake and stays to pray on the mountain.

            As the disciples are crossing the lake, a storm comes along.  The disciples find themselves struggling against the wind.  The waves are battering against the side of the boat and soaking them.  They’re a long way from the safety of the shore.  They feel alone and helpless... and afraid. Their fear would have had a lot to do with how people in ancient times perceived the sea—as a place of chaos and danger.

            As the disciples anxiously scan the horizon, they see something coming closer and closer to them on top of the water.  What could this strange apparition be?  They’re terrified!  They holler at each other in fear above the roar of the storm:  “What is it?  It must be a ghost!”

            But then they hear a familiar voice speaking to them, saying, "Take heart.  It is I.  Don't be afraid."

             

            “Don’t be afraid” is a word of divine assurance in the midst of danger or fear, when there is cause to be afraid. There definitely was reason to be afraid out on the Sea of Galilee.  Jesus doesn't calm the wind when he's walking out to his disciples in the boat. He stands in the middle of danger, on the water, with the wind blowing and commands his disciples: “Take courage. I am. Don’t be afraid.”

            Apparently, Peter takes Jesus at his word. He steps out of the boat to walk on water toward Jesus. He discovers quickly that Jesus’ words of assurance didn’t mean the dangerous wind and waves had subsided.

            Jesus doesn't calm the wind when he commands Peter to come to him.  He doesn't calm the wind when he saves Peter from drowning.
            As biblical scholar Margaret Aymer wrote yesterday on Facebook, “In the face of the storms of white supremacy and racism, the church is commanded to walk on water, crying out for rescue when we need it. In the face of “make nice” culture and fear of offending, we are still required to face into the winds with the truth that racism is sin….”
            Friday night, white supremacists assembled in Charlottesville, Virginia for a public demonstration of hate. They held torches and chanted phrases such as “You will not replace us!” “Jews will not replace us!”  “White lives matter!”
            Yesterday morning, there was a clear contrast between white supremacists who chanted “Blood and soil!” and faith groups gathering in churches and then walking quietly to Emancipation Park and gathering there, singing with arms locked together, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine….”  [The congregation spontaneously joined with me in singing a verse of the song.]
           
            I know that the term “white supremacy” is unpopular, and that a lot of people are really uncomfortable talking about racism. A lot of people think it only refers to racists who wear hoods and burn crosses. They think it’s too harsh to apply to them, the people they know, or the church. But, as Jemar Tisby wrote yesterday in the Washington Post, “we can’t change the white supremacist status quo unless we name it and confront it.”[1]
            It isn’t easy. And we worry about offending or alienating people.
            Some of us have been having conversations and reading books together, books that inform and challenge us to talk honestly with one another about tough topics.  It’s hard but necessary work for those of us who are committed to working for a just and peaceful world.

            More than 50 years have passed since Martin Luther King gave his “I have a dream” speech.   Have we made progress since that time? Undoubtedly. But we need to be honest with ourselves about where we the people of the United States are and about our history.
            In the Gospel according to John, we hear Jesus saying, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”[6]
            I believe the gospel has the power to set us free-- as individuals, as a community, as a society-- if we have ears to hear the good news… if we have faith to trust in God’s power to transform us and bind us together in Beloved Community….if we trust in the gospel’s truth to bring us through the storms…
            I appreciate the way Jim Wallis talks about the power of the truth in his latest book:[7]
            “To become more free because of the truth.  To become more honest because of the truth.  To become more responsible because of the truth.  To become better neighbors because of the truth.   To become more productive and contributing citizens because of the truth.  To become better Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, people of other faiths, or people of conscience with no religion—all better because of the truth.  To become a better and freer country for all of us because of the truth.  To become better and freer human beings because of the truth.[8]
            I agree with Jim when he says, “We can no longer be afraid of the truth about race in this country—past, present, and future—because our fears will keep us captive to all kinds of untruths.
            Our faith teaches us that there is only one race: the human race. The other “races” are things that people have made up to justify dehumanizing other human beings and using and oppressing them. Our faith teaches us that every human being is created in the image of God and is precious in God’s sight. Our faith teaches us that we are required to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God.
            In the Christian view, racism is a sin. We will always have sin in this world, on this side of eternity. But we are called to “speak the truth in love” and to fight against sin in all its forms.  As long as the Church is in this world, God’s Holy Spirit will be working in and among us, leading and guiding and encouraging us, reminding us that goodness is stronger than evil and that love is stronger than hate. As long as we have breath, the Church--when the Church is truly being the Church--will not stop fighting for good.
            There’s great resistance to this holy work. When a black pastor in the largest Protestant denomination in the country brought a resolution condemning the alt-right and white supremacy, a small group of mostly white pastors dismissed it out of hand, and it was initially defeated.  It took the protests of other pastors, as well as backlash on social media, for the Southern Baptist Convention to pass a resolution condemning the alt-right and white supremacy at its annual meeting last June.
           
            More than 50 years ago, the Rev. Martin Luther King wrote a response to white pastors after they sent a message urging restraint and gradualism in the civil rights movement. 

            In his “Letter From a Birmingham Jail,” Dr. King said, “I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be some of our strongest allies. Instead, some few have been outright opponents, refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leaders; all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.”

            So, here we are, in 2017. Dr. King’s words resonate prophetically today.  But in the midst of the storms of life, we are still fearful. We may be afraid that there is not enough for everyone-- that if those who are different or other have equity, there won’t be enough for us. We may fear losing the privileges we have always taken for granted. We may be afraid that the arc of the universe doesn’t bend toward justice. We may fear being uncomfortable. We may fear change. We may fear offending or alienating people we care about.
            As followers of Jesus, we need to speak the truth in love. We need to be very clear that racism, domestic terrorism, religious extremism, bigotry, and blind hatred don’t represent America.  They don’t speak for the majority of white Americans.  They do real harm to people who are our neighbors. But much more importantly, they are counter to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
            There are times when we may feel overwhelmed with various kinds of problems or with the evil we see in our world, times when we may feel like we’re drowning. We might feel weak, broken, or vulnerable, or afraid of real dangers.
            But the good news is that there is help and hope.  During the storms of life, we hear Christ’s voice, calling to us, inviting us to step out in faith...  to trust in God’s grace and power. When we do, we can accomplish what we thought was impossible--with God’s help. 
            We can hear Christ calling us, through prophetic voices, challenging us, as individuals and as the Christian church, to “take heart… and to not be afraid.”
            Jesus is with us, in the midst of the storm, reaching out to us, ready to pull us out of the depths if our fears overcome us and we start to sink.
            Thanks be to God!
            Amen!

The Rev. Fran Hayes                                                                                 

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

August 13, 2017

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[1] Jemar Tisby, “After Charlottesville, will white pastors finally take racism seriously?” in the Washngton Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/08/12/after-charlottesville-will-white-pastors-finally-take-racism-seriously/?hpid=hp_hp-top-table-main_trumpreaction421pm%3Ahomepage%2Fstory&utm_term=.9e9820461cec

"Waiting for the Power": A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Acts 1:1-14.

"Waiting for the Power"

Luke 24:44-53; Acts 1:1-14

In churches that follow the liturgical calendar, we’re coming to the end of Eastertide, the season when we focus on celebrating the Resurrection.  The third major festival of the Christian year, the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, comes next Sunday.   Before we get to Pentecost, we celebrate the Ascension, and we hear the part of the story that Luke/Acts places between Easter and Pentecost. 

            One part of the story is that Jesus has ascended to glory with God.  The glory of the risen and ascended Christ is good news-- something to celebrate.

            But the other themes in the story invite us to look at the Ascension from a very human perspective, the disciples’ point of view, which is where we stand.   

            Up until now, Jesus has been the chief actor in the gospel drama.      From his birth to his death, it’s Jesus who keeps the story moving. 

In the forty days following the resurrection, the risen Jesus appeared to his followers a number of times and continued to teach them about the kingdom of God. 

            But they were still living under Roman occupation. There were still people who were poor and hungry and marginalized. Things were still not right in the world.  So, when Jesus told his followers to wait in Jerusalem, where they would be baptized by the Holy Spirit, they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom?”

             Jesus answered, “It isn’t for you to know these things. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” Then they saw Jesus lifted up, and a cloud, which the Bible uses as a symbol of God’s presence--lifted Jesus out of their sight.  And now he’s gone from their sight.

When Jesus was carried up into heaven, the reality they were facing was that Jesus was no longer a part of their daily life, in the same way he had been before. 

             

            Now what?  What are Jesus’ followers supposed to do?        It would have been hard not to feel anxious and impatient—just as it can be for us.

            There’s so much bad news in the world-- so much fear and anxiety and hatred. Since earlier this past week, our hearts are heavy with the news of precious lives lost: mostly young concert-goers in Manchester, England and a promising young college graduate in Maryland, stabbed to death by a white supremacist.

            In the 24-hour news cycle, we haven’t been hearing much about refugees in the past few months, but a few days ago we heard that more than 30 perished when an overcrowded boat listed while trying to reach Europe from North Africa, and that most of the bodies recovered were toddlers.

            An 18-year-old former neo-Nazi / white supremacist converted to Islam and murdered two of his white supremacist roommates and told the police he killed them because they didn’t respect his Muslim faith.

            We heard about an attack on a caravan of Coptic Christian pilgrims heading to a monastery in Minya, Egypt that killed 28 people.  Friday two men were killed and another injured when they stepped in to protect 2 women from a man who was shouting ethnic and anti-Muslim slurs at them.  This man, too, turned out to be a white supremacist.

            In our nation’s South, there are conflicts over removing statues that celebrate leaders of the Confederacy. Closer to home, we have a controversy over what place a statue of former Dearborn mayor Orville Hubbard should have.

            Concerns have been raised in local cities about justice and due process in detentions deportations of undocumented immigrants and the impact of current policies on their families.

            In our nation’s capital, politicians are debating matters that include who deserves to have enough to eat and adequate, affordable medical coverage, how we will care for the environment, and much more. The litany of losses and pain and struggle is long.

            Do you want to just shout, “How long, Lord?”  “Is this the time you’re going to make things right in the world?  We want to know what the plan is. We want to know now.

            Lord, is this the time?

            Hear what Jesus says: “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set byfor some time for reflection, whether at home or away. It can be an opportunity for us to renew our sense of gratitude for those who have served their country and for the freedoms we enjoy because of that service and sacrifice. It can also be a time for us to renew our sense of commitment to wohis own authority.”    It is not for us to know all the details of the big plan.

            Christ’s charge to them comes with a promise: “You will be baptized with the Holy Spirit...  You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

            Luke tells us that the disciples worshipped the risen and ascended Christ.  They returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple blessing God.

            In the verses following the passage we read in Acts, Luke tells how the disciples returned to Jerusalem and went to the upper room where they were staying, where they and certain women were constantly devoting themselves to prayer.  On the day of Pentecost, disciples were gathered together in one place when the power of the Holy Spirit came upon them from on high. 

            The first disciples were called to wait during times of transition--with trust and hope…with eagerness and expectancy.

            This Memorial Day long weekend will bring a variety of parades and other celebrations and

rking for a world that is more just and peaceful.

           

            When the first disciples couldn’t see where the future would lead them, when they couldn’t see where the future would lead them, they remained focused on the drama of God’s salvation story, and worshiped God with great joy.  Their joyful worship as they waited helped to center themselves in God’s gracious, powerful promises

            Do we believe God can use us to transform the world?   Do we believe that we can do all things, through Christ, who strengthens us?      How many of us want to believe these things?       

            I believe God has the power to work miracles, and that God wants to use us to change people’s lives.  But it is not in God’s nature to coerce us.  We have choices.                

           

            In his book, God’s Politics, which a group of us read together some years ago, Jim Wallis talks about “The Critical Choice:  Hope Versus Cynicism.”[1] 

            Wallis says that one of the big struggles of our times is the fundamental choice between cynicism and hope.  The prophets always begin in judgment, in a social critique of the status quo, but they end in hope—that these realities can and will be changed.  This choice between cynicism and hope is ultimately a spiritual choice—one that has enormous political consequences.  He argues for a better religion--  a prophetic faith—the religion of Jesus and the prophets.

            As Wallis says, cynicism can protect you from seeming foolish to believe that things could and will change.  It protects you from disappointment.  It protects you from insecurity, because now you are free to pursue your own security instead of sacrificing it for a social engagement, if you decide that it won’t work anyway. 

            Ultimately, cynicism protects you from commitment.  If things aren’t really going to change, why try so hard to make a difference?... Why take the risks, make the sacrifices, open yourself to the vulnerabilities?  Cynics are finally free just to look after themselves… and pursue their own agendas.

            According to Wallis, the difference between the cynics and the saints is the presence, power, and possibility of hope.  And that is indeed a spiritual and faith issue.  More than just a moral issue, hope is a spiritual and even a religious choice. 

            I agree with Wallis when he says that hope is not a feeling.  It is a decision.  And the decision for hope is based on what you believe at the deepest levels—what your most basic convictions about the world and what the future holds--  all based on your faith.

            We can choose hope, not as a naive wish, but as a choice, with your eyes wide open to the reality of the world.  I believe this hope is grounded in faith…and nurtured in our worship life.

            The Civil Rights movement in the United States grew out of the African-American church… and then others joined in—people who chose to hope in a society in which there is justice for all. We’re still waiting and hoping for the fulfillment of that dream. 

            During the days of Apartheid in South Africa, Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu used to say, “We are prisoners of hope.”  

            I know I’ve shared this story with you before, but it’s powerful and inspiring.  During Apartheid, the South African Security Police came  into the Cathedral of St. George’s during Tutu’s sermon at an ecumenical service.

            Tutu stopped preaching and just looked at the intruders as they lined the walls of the cathedral, wielding writing pads and tape recorders to record whatever he said   and thereby threatening him with consequences for any bold prophetic utterances.

            They had already arrested Tutu and other church leaders just a few weeks before and kept them in jail for several days to make a statement and a point:  religious leaders who take on leadership roles in the struggle against apartheid would be treated like any other opponents of the Pretoria regime.

            After meeting their eyes with his in a steely gaze, Tutu acknowledged their power, saying, “You are powerful,  very powerful.”  But then he reminded them that he served a higher power greater than their political authority:  “I serve a God who cannot be mocked!”

            Then in an extraordinary challenge to political tyranny, Archbishop Desmond Tutu told the representatives of South African apartheid, “Since you have already lost, I invite you today to come and join the winning side!”  He said it with a smile on his face and enticing warmth in his invitation, but with a clarity and a boldness that took everyone’s breath away. 

            The congregation’s response was electric.  The crowd was literally transformed by the bishop’s challenge to power.  The heavily armed security forces that surrounded the cathedral and greatly outnumbered the band of worshipers.  Yet the congregation was moved—empowered—to literally leap to their feet, shouting the praises of God.            They began dancing.  They danced out of the cathedral to meet the awaiting police and military forces of apartheid, who hardly expected a confrontation with dancing worshipers.  Not knowing what else to do, they backed up to provide the space for the people of faith to dance for freedom in the streets of South Africa.

           

            Some time later, a few days before Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as President of South Africa, Wallis remembers wondering, “Who would have ever believed?  And that’s just the point, he says.  We have to believe.

            I know…   I know…   What we see going on in our nation and in the world seems overwhelming.

            And yet, we are called.  Christ has given us a Great Commission:   You shall be my witnesses.

            We have Christ’s promise:  You will receive power…

             

            Like the first disciples, we have the promises of God to cling to, even in times of sorrow and anxiety.   These promises are ours, even at times when it seems that Christ has vanished and the Holy Spirit is not breathing down our necks or in our lives.^[2][1]  

            So let us cling to God’s promises and rejoice in them. There will be accomplishments and setbacks, joys and sorrows. In the midst of it, we can trust that God is with us, comforting, celebrating with us, accompanying and strengthening us, even when we can’t see it. We can give thanks that God is preparing us to live with less fear and more generosity, preparing us to look out for the rights of others, and to work for a more merciful and just world.

            Thanks be to God!

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[1] Jim Wallis, God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It.”  HarperSanFrancisco, 2006.

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^[1]I am grateful to Marjorie Menaul for this phrase, which really resonated with me.