"Jesus Speaks, Jesus Acts, Jesus Leaves: Now What?" Ascension Sunday

Jesus Speaks, Acts, Leaves: Now What? Ascension Sunday Psalm 93; Ephesians 1.15-23; Luke 24.44-53

Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender

The dislocation of our perceptions; the mechanics of resurrection; and ultimately, transcendence. This is all I got for you today.

At pastors’ BS 10 days ago, I asked, “What is it about Ascension Sunday that doesn’t really get me excited?” My Lutheran colleagues were appalled; they have a much deeper appreciation for liturgy and the liturgical year then do I. I’ve learned a lot from them! “It’s the fulfillment of the gospel, Tiare. Jesus portrays the whole of Salvation History—the Law of Moses, the prophets, the psalms—is now complete in Jesus’ death and resurrection. The forgiveness of sins is made possible. It is all of Salvation History on this one Sunday! I mean, come on.”

Okay, they’ve got a point. As Jesus is taken up, the disciples fall to the ground, prostrate, like the angels, and the shepherds and the wise men, at the feet of the baby Jesus. They are astonished at what just happened. All they can do is go back to a familiar place, the temple, to offer blessings to God. And to wait, until they are ‘clothed with power from on high’, whatever that means, since it had never happened before. (Pause)

When was the last time you were astonished? Knocked to your knees in praise and blessing when you glimpsed an inkling of God’s glory? When were your eyes opened, no longer blind, to see love, grace and mercy mingling down? It is this dislocation of our perceptions that makes for a bit of a rough road. Our sight lines direct our way, make us the cartographers of our own lives. And then, Ka-boom. Our maps catch fire, and we shake our heads. Now what?

We live in this kind of time. Pandemic, coronavirus, Covid 19, shelter in place, wear masks, stay 6 feet apart, wash your hands 25 times a day, essential business only, bend the disease curve, search for vaccines, non-essential surgeries measured, no public gatherings, no church in the flesh. New words, new rules, new practices, and no end in sight.. Talk about dislocation, oh my.

Yet we are 2,000 years into this disruption of God, the astonishment of Jesus’ resurrection, let alone His ascension, the power of the Holy Spirit hovers on the horizon, soon to be made manifest. Jesus’ ministry is not a one-off, an accident, an anecdote for the dinner party conversation. Rather, He is the magnificent painting we are to gaze at to see, really see, God’s deepest desires for all of creation. He lives into and out of the covenant God made with humanity so long ago and has been enacting ever since. The creation of another Eden. I’ve said this a zillion times, but I’ll say it again: God loves you and names you Beloved; God wants you whole, healed, filled with hope. God wants the universe healed. Look, the cross is empty and so is the tomb. You have been given new life in Christ. So live it! Now What?

It may be a bit presumptuous to use the word ‘mechanics’ when talking about the resurrection of Jesus, and its aftermath, I grant you. I mean no offense. What I am suggesting is the writers of the gospels, try hard to make theological sense of these extraordinary circumstances they find themselves in. Luke begins his gospel with these words: “Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed on to us by those who were eyewitnesses and servants of the Word, I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account...” unquote. Written in 70 AD best historians suggest. 35 or 40 years after Jesus was crucified. A mechanics manual if you will. To tell the truth of what you have been instructed Luke says, to dear Theophilus.

It is this clarity of biology—yes, Mary got pregnant in an extraordinary way, yes, Jesus was born through a birth canal, yes Jesus grew up in the normal way of children, yes He started His ministry and called disciples, then went on to heal the sick, feed the hungry, love the demon-possessed, speak with women, cross the bounds of religious and political rightness, crucified, dead and buried, rose again on the third day, then spent 40 days (that lovely phrase that really means ‘a long time’) connecting God’s over-arching plan of salvation with His own life the disciples had already experienced. Yes. Jesus speaks...Jesus acts... Jesus blesses.

Before He goes away to prepare that beautiful place, He raises his wounded hands, scabs giving way to scars, and speaks unrecorded words that imprint so deeply, the disciples fall to the ground. They are astonished by this inkling of eternity, there is nothing else to do but say thanks be to God. The space/time continuum they have always lived with is now scaffolded in a different way—they live inside the ascension. They are not on the outside looking in, rather they are gifted with the transcendent beauty of the presence of God, just as Jesus promised. Their perception is dislocated forever.

This is our promise too. We are not on the outside looking in. We have been gathered into the Godhead through Jesus and as we know, the power of the Holy Spirit. We are clothed from on high. Like I said last week, second-skinned by Christ in our baptism. Our viewpoint is cast in the light of the deep and abiding mystery of transcendence. All of our life, our pandemic life, our life before, our life after, all of our life, is rooted in the renewed goodness of creation. Jesus speaks...Jesus acts...Jesus leaves...Now What? Amen

May 10: Where Do You Hang Your Heart?

Where do you hang your heart? Easter 5 - Psalm 31; 1 Peter 2.2-10; John 14.1-14 Rev. Tiare L. Mathison, Pastor & Soul-Tender

Good morning, chosen race! How are you royal priesthood? You are a holy nation, God’s own people! Once you were no people, but now, now, you are God’s people. Once, you had no mercy. Now you are full of mercy. Full, right, full. It’s a declarative, it is plural, so it is for all of us who believe Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. And for us who doubt, and question, and remain. It is the reversal of the judgment against Israel, 500 years before, when the prophet/farmer Hosea named his children, Lo-ruhamah and Loammi, which mean not pitied and not my people. Now Israel and we are redeemed.

God’s evaluation is rooted in God’s grace. It’s nothing you’ve done or earned or deserve, for that matter. It is simply this free gift of love, given for your redemption through Jesus Christ. So you can see, really see, that other world. The world beyond the borders of pandemic, the world beyond the systemic evils and principalities of empire, the world of cruelty and rejection and oppression. Look up, Scripture always says. This grace is longer than my arms, it extends way beyond what I can reach or imagine. It is an invitation to let ourselves be built, present participle, into the lasting structure with Jesus Christ as cornerstone. It’s 90* angle is the basis for the whole building; its strength for the long haul and creativity for its beauty. Dear Holy Nation, you are magnificent. It is this mighty fortress that holds us in place, our time in God’s hands. Every day we can pray, Into your hands I commit my spirit, you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

It is the power of this simple notion: God is for you. God is for you. In life and in death, God is four you. Where do you hang your heart? It is an act of humility to put your trust in God. It reverberates against all the culture messages that suggest we can do it all on our own, that we don’t need each other. In this other world, such hubris does not exist. In that place, our interdependence on one another is celebrated as a great joy. One thing the pandemic has exposed is how much we really do need each other. I go so far as to say God made us for relationship with Her and with one another and with the whole of creation and all the creatures big and small. Where do you hang your heart?

Do not let your hearts be troubled, Jesus says. Well, lets take a stop right there, shall we? Tell me, is your heart troubled this morning? With the mute on, you can just nod your head yes or no. My heart gets troubled when I look at the models of illness #’s in this pandemic. 70% of us will get sick, it looks like, 10% of us will die. These figures trouble our hearts as we gaze across the screen at one another, think of our loved ones, frontline workers, the elderly, people of color. We are sickened by the murder of Ahmad Arbery,a young Black man, gunned down by two white men southern Georgia. #Running while black the latest hashtag of fear. Our hearts are very troubled. We are dining at the banquet table of defeat. Where do you hang your heart?

Martin Luther, Reformer, wrote The Large Catechism. His very first question: What does it mean to have a God? His answer: God is what you hang your heart on.

We hang our hearts on The One who has promised eternal life. The One who brought back Jesus Christ from the dead for our salvation. The One who says I will not leave you bereft, but the Paraclete will come and dwell with you, right inside you and your daily life. It is not a distant wind-up God who remains aloof, but The One who gets in the muck and mess, who calls us out to be a royal nation filled with mercy. The One who creates this other world we catch a glimpse of now and then when we hear or read stories of extreme kindness: Tanisha Brunson-Malone, works at Hackensack University Medical Center in New York City, as a forensic technician, a morgue worker. 3 days a week she stops at the Metropolitan Plant and Flower Exchange to buy yellow daffodils, spending about $100/week. She takes them to her work, where 3 semi-trailers are parked, bodies in bags waiting... She walks the aisles of the dead, pausing at each new body bag, places a daffodil on top and moves on. Her flowers are for the dead rather than the living. She says, “I was kind of like their voice, because they were voiceless.” Where do you hang your heart? There is roominess in God, plenty of space for everyone. It is not a location of geography, rather a wide-open vista of time stretched as far as the eye can see and beyond, in this other world. It is the arena beyond the horizon, the mystery of the place of death, a realm not accessible, but where God dwells. The promise of Jesus is to accompany us home. Where do you hang your heart? I’ve chosen to end the sermon by sharing some music called The UK Churches sing The Blessing. I received it from one of my nieces earlier this week. Each and every time I watch it I weep. So those of you who are teary, best have the tissue nearby:) It’s a bit long, but soooo lovely. May you be richly blessed by the presence of Christ as you listen. Amen