Witnesses to Joy
Whenever Ascension Sunday comes along, I remember one line from a sermon by Bishop John
Shelby Spong in which he told us that if the ascension had really happened the way the Bible tells it,
according to the laws of science, Jesus would still be in orbit around the earth. I don’t remember the
rest of that sermon, but I think the point was that the how of the ascension is not really the question, so
much as what does it mean to us who are left behind.
After the resurrection, Jesus’ followers had received Jesus with great joy and hope and
amazement. They celebrated his presence with them: on the shore of the Sea of Galilee where he cooks
breakfast for them; in a house where he came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you,”
and showed them his hands and feet and ate a piece of broiled fish; on the road to Emmaus and
afterward in the breaking of the bread.
The promises had come true. It was “Mission Accomplished.”
If I had been one of the ones who were there, I would have wanted the celebration to go on
forever. And I would have expected Jesus to stay around for a while, no matter what he might have told
me about what the scriptures said about being a witness and preaching repentance and forgiveness of
sins in his name to all nations. And - like the disciples back then - I would have wanted his assurance
that everything would be what I had hoped for.
No wonder. I would have been through a lot with Jesus, and been through a lot after the
crucifixion.
I would have remembered many things: the days when the crowds had followed Jesus in such
large numbers and stayed for hours just to hear his every word - and how he would insist on feeding
them before they went home. I would have remembered all the people whose lives had been touched by
his wonderful ministry - the man who had been possessed by many demons until Jesus cast them out;
the woman who had been bent over for eighteen years - until Jesus invited her to stand up; and
Zaccheus the crooked tax collector who became a saint when Jesus called him down from the
sycamore tree.
I would have remembered our excitement when he commissioned us and sent us out two by
two in his name and how we returned with joy, talking about how even the demons submitted to us in
the name of Jesus.
And I would have remembered how, after the crucifixion, we had scattered in all directions,
scared to death that we would die the same way, and all our confidence that we could go forth and
accomplish the mission he had given us - all that gone. Without Jesus, we were lost.
Of course I would have celebrated to know he was alive! And so when, as the story from Acts
goes, “While staying with them, Jesus ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the
promise of the Father. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water,
but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now,” - well, I would have been the
first to ask the question: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel? Can we
count on you, Jesus, to make it right before you go?”
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