(NB: This sermon is by Deacon Tracy LeBlanc)
On the surface Ascension is an odd feast. Have you ever wondered why we celebrate? If I had been a disciple I would have been devastated. First death, scary, painful death, then back with us for only forty days. We still don’t have all the answers – and poof, there you go again, Jesus –riding off in the clouds like Elijah! I really would have liked it if you had just stuck around! But there is something profound, something very necessary about this odd way of leaving. Still, I would have liked it more spelled out, something in a poetic kind of hymn would have been nice…
Something like: In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the word was God…and the word became flesh and dwelt among us… and the word, full of grace and truth took on humanity, experienced joyous friendships and painful betrayal, the pleasure of anointing oil and the pain of death, and the word, full of humanity, full of God, ascended into heaven and that word was with God and that word was God.
We aren’t offered a glorious hymn for the ascension such as is offered for the incarnation though– still I wish we were, because I think in many ways the ascension of Christ is the completion of the incarnation. In the incarnation God became human and in so doing declared the stuff of humanity holy, God becomes a part of who we are. At the ascension the person Jesus – the one who has lived and laughed and suffered, the body whose hands and feet bear scars from crucifixion – all of that humanity becomes for eternity part of who God is.
Fr. James Liggett says “The Ascension, along with the Incarnation, is here to tell us that it is a good thing to be a human being; indeed it is a wonderful and an important and holy thing to be a human being. It is such an important thing that God did it. Even more, the fullness of God now includes what it means to be a human being. The experience, the reality, and the stuff of being a person is so valuable that God has made it a part of God’s life.”
See, Jesus could not slip off with a quiet death so we might think his spirit drifted up to God while his humanity stayed behind. He left -wounded body, fully person so that when you and I are sobbing in our loneliness, are despairing in our pain we might know a God who has taken those things to himself, and know that holiness is in the midst of that struggle. I love the names of God in today’s psalm: “Father of orphans, protector of widows, the one who gives the desolate a home, provider to the needy”. God is in the midst of struggle. The Ascension is one more way God powerfully illustrates connection to the deepest needs of our hearts.
Like a master weaver God has woven himself into the tapestry of humanity and woven humanity into the tapestry of God such that no threads can be removed without unraveling the full picture of truth.
He is in us and we are in him…the language starts to sound circular a Celtic knot of words strikingly familiar to our Gospel text. The first time I read this text I remember coming away with something like “mine, yours, me, you, them, me yours theirs, me, you, them ONE – with a blur of words in between. This is a rich prayer, one could preach five weeks on the questions and themes found here. But the overriding sense of the prayer is that of relationship. Jesus and the Father share all things, are connected in all things are in every sense one. Jesus’ glory is to share all of his Father with humanity – to include them in that oneness.
In fact, the definition of eternal life here is striking. “and this is eternal life, that they may know you…and that they may know me”. The word for know here isn’t about head knowledge, about having the right answers – it is that “marriage” sense of the word know, a deep intimate connection with the Holy that has created your being – that is eternal life.
But this whole knotting, binding, weaving together thing isn’t only about the connection within the Godhead, or the connection between each of us and God it is also very much about our life with one another.
In Acts the disciples stand, awe struck, gawking up into the sky as Jesus disappears. It takes an Angel to get their attention to bring them back to earth, “Hey, what are you looking up into the sky for???” In our Gospel Jesus has waxed poetic about his connection with the Father and about the Father’s hope for a deep connection with us as well –we have gotten lost in looking toward heaven and then Jesus does it too –inserts the pull back to the humans that surround us “And Father I pray that they may be one”.
As God is bound together, has bound himself to us so it is God’s hope that we be bound to one another. One…what would that look like? I have a hunch that it isn’t much about agreeing with one another on all things, about liking the same kind of food or even the same kind of worship. I doubt it means we would all become introverted, intuitive, process oriented people or spunky, “get it done”, energetic church members. But what would it be like if we said to each other, even to those most different from ourselves ‘you belong to me, I belong to you, and we together belong to God’, ‘Your pains, your hopes, your worries, your joys – they matter to me too”? What would that mean for how we relate with one another, what would that mean for our time, our pocket books, our worship – what would our community look like? How would this affect the way we experience God. What kind of witness would this be to the world?
The beauty of this Celtic knot kind of oneness can take on as many forms as there are beautiful works of art. But I’d like to share two short examples of places I have seen the need or power of oneness.
As a chaplain intern I had the opportunity to spend some of each day in the adult mental health ward. One day I met Carlos, who was admitted for the first time to the hospital after a heroine crash, a habit he had picked up to try to make sense of/deal with/ block out the voices that were constantly in his head. He heard voices constantly calling his name. He was an intense, bright man. He sat with me for a very long time telling his story and then in a pained tone asked, “
This week I had an opportunity to see an example of the power of oneness. My mother belongs to a women’s group that over time has included the spouses so much that a tight community has formed among the families. In one of these families the husband has terminal cancer. The medical co-pays have become tremendous. This man, Brad, is expected to live about one more month. So this group of families put together a huge party. They invited everyone that knew Brad and his wife – about 125 people came. They found bands and spent days preparing food, skits and decorations and rounded up donations for a silent auction. They rented a hall. And Friday night they brought Brad and his wife to the hall, surrounded by people who knew them. They played Brad’s favorite tunes, told funny stories about his life until people were in tears. They ate a last meal with Brad, laughed with him, for many it was a chance to say goodbye. And in the midst of this they raised thousands of dollars to help defray medical costs and hopefully to help Brad’s wife keep her house. They said to Brad – all of your life, it matters to us, we want to hear your stories told. All of your struggles – they matter to us. We will not leave you to figure out financial stress on your own – your struggles, they are ours too. And your death, that matters to us too. We will not let you pass without letting you know how deeply you are a part of who we are.
What will it mean for us to live more into the oneness to which we are called? What will change in the way we approach God as we become more aware of the holiness that permeates who we are and the humanity that permeates God? What will it mean for our community as we take more risks to be one with one another?
May God give us courage and hope and bundles of grace as we work to live more into this call we have been given.
Amen
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