It is not easy to be a literalist when it comes to Christianity. Especially for those folks who tend to elevate the bible above Jesus. (That, by the way, is called bibliolatry.) And, it has never seemed to me an easy idolatry. For folks who seem to prefer the surety of simple answers . . . .  literalism is not an easy path.  Our text for today is a perfect example, for the festival of the Ascension is fraught with problems and defies simple ‘explanations.’

You can actually see my point when you look at the art that has tried to depict this event. Neil MacGregor summed up the problem:  ( in the book, Seeing Salvation: Images of Christ in Art)

“Christ’s last appearance on earth posed an almost insoluble problem for the artist. For the important thing about this appearance was the fact of disappearance, and . . . absence is hard to paint interestingly . .. And since movement is as difficult to paint as absence, most artists continued to show the Ascension as a static scene. . . “

The presenting problem is the, on the one hand, the disposal of the body of Jesus or  ‘What happened to Jesus after Easter?

For literalists, this is an issue.

But for those of us who are open to reading scripture as metaphor, we can be open to the wonder and wildness of what those early Christians were trying to communicate.

Of course, that is not the only issue, and certainly not the largest. For the more pressing concern is what happens to this little band of folks, this bud of church, when Jesus is no longer present. The real issue in this narrative is much more a church question than a Jesus question.

So, what these early writers have done is utilize the presenting issue (what about Jesus’ body?) for the larger story (what do we do now that Jesus is no longer with us?)

Try not to get hung up on Jesus floating out of sight into the clouds --there is real mystery in these texts: it is found in what happens to this fearful, waiting community which is anxious and bewildered, and has no power of its own. Made up of mostly outcasts and fringe types, it possesses no power and can not sum up power for itself. It has no claim and no cause for self-congratulation. And yet, oddly, power is given to this fragile little community, which gives energy, courage, imagination and resources completely disproportionate to its size. That is the mystery. When movements lose their leaders, they usually fall apart. But this one didn’t. It grew and it survived and here we are, descendents of that rag-tag band two thousand years later . . . How can one speak about this changed situation that can only be attributed to the amazing and inscrutable generosity of God? How is it that this church with no claim becomes a powerful force in the larger scheme of life?

What we are reading today won’t make sense to us if we try to read it literally. But if we try to appreciate it as a people looking back, trying to explain the birth of the movement that was changing lives and changing the world as they knew it . . . then we can see in wonderment glimpses and hints . . . but not much more.  What God is doing and plans to do is beyond our grasp. It may not seem logical to us. When we are in the midst of the transformation, we may simply be caught up in the joy and excitement of being a part of something larger than we are. .  And later, as we look back, we can see only the residue of God at work and the effect it had on a transformed community. .  (A little like finding confetti lurking in the carpet and between the cushions reminding us of a grand celebration long after the music has died down.)

The church has no language to describe what has happened, because they aren’t sure what has happened. But they know enough to claim their identity as connected to Jesus in a mysterious way. Connected to one who is no longer physically present to them.

This is the beginning of the birth narrative for the early church.

Birth stories matter. They have the power of myth about them. Anyone with children knows how many times they will ask to have their own birth stories related to them. One of my own grandchildren told me why the word ‘birthday’ begins with the letter ‘b.’ “Because,” he said, “that’s when I started to be!”

Organizations have their own birth stories and life cycles. I am sure most of you are familiar with the life cycles of organizations:

From birth to growth and maturity to decline and death and bankruptcy.

The church is an organization, and the same cycle happens with faith organizations. They begin with a person who has a vision . .  which becomes a movement. From the movement, an organization is born, and grows and matures. And faith organizations can also die. They can lose their vision, or depart from the founding vision. They can become museums, on their way to being monuments. Death and bankruptcy.

I am sure we have all visited some dead churches at times: elegant monuments to a glorious day long gone by, with little gold plaques all over the place honoring long dead saints.  But those churches feel hollow because there is little new or exciting or visionary going on in them. They love to talk about the past; they have little or nothing to say about the present and no vision of the future. There may actually be programs and activity . . . but the focus is yesterday, not tomorrow.

            And I am just as sure that you have been in touch with faith organizations that are alive and filled with joy and inspiration for all those who touch its life. In our day and time, to be amongst a people with vision fills one with hope. I have been overwhelmed with hope in places like Washington, DC and Istanbul, Turkey.

            It has been my experience of those hope-filled faith communities  that before they entered the museum mode, they went through a form of renewal.

They started over. They got radical. That is, to say, they returned to their roots. They went back to the touchstone and reclaimed to vision of the one who founded the movement in the first place.

            Which is why we study this birth narrative of our movement, and why we study scripture and the teachings of Jesus. It is the most radical thing we can do. It is why we are participating in the ‘Living the Questions’ bible study. It is why the work of the Jesus seminar is important for a church seeking renewal  (and also why it is threatening to a church that is not seeking renewal, but is comfortable with the status quo.)

            Jesus was a leader in a renewal movement within the Jewish faith, as well. My Jewish friends point out that Jesus’ teachings were at the heart of Judaism -- not a parting from it.

            Some of the religious leaders of the day had for the most part, forgotten the path they were to take. Just like other prophets sent to God’s people to help them return to their founding vision --  Jesus teachings were radical. 

            The message of Jesus, like the message of the prophets before him was “remember!’ Remember who you are. Remember what you are about. Remember what your purpose as God’s people is.

            (Ray Matlock asked me last night if I was going to be preaching a Memorial Day sermon. And I was a little stunned, because in one sense – yes!  it is all about memory. .  Of course, it is not just about the fallen in wars . . . though at some level  it is about that, too. Because just as we are called to revisit the roots of our faith, so, too, are we as a country called to revisit the roots of the founding of this nation . . . as we remember those who have given their lives to defend this country, we need also remember what it was they believed they were defending. As others continue to lose their lives we need to remember what our founding vision as a nation was. . . and not only mourn the great loss of life, but we need to mourn the loss of the soul of this once great nation and recommit our selves to the renewal of our country.

            But Memorial Day is a national holiday, and I am not a part of the First Church of America, as many others are.

            The call for renewal in the church today is powerful because of that First Church of America mindset. But it is even deeper than that. The church is called to speak to the state, but it will only do that, it can only do that if it is truly being the church.)

The church universal has, off and on, lost its way . . . and then revisited that question, returned to its roots, and been renewed. Many progressive churches are doing the same thing these days. As the title of Marcus Borg’s books indicates, they are ‘meeting Jesus again for the first time’ and discovering the ‘God they never knew.’

            In the case of the church at the beginning, it was the death of Jesus that sparked the need for these questions and this struggle. It takes a death for the church to seek life.

            And, here, at Mt. Auburn, whether you are willing to name it or not– there was a death.

            It’s okay to say it. Death is nothing to fear. It is not the end. Only the end of things as we knew them.

            But those of you who were here then know that there was a kind of death here a few years ago. Mt Auburn as you had come to know it died. For whatever reason, it is no longer the same church it once was and it wont’ be that again. Life does not go backward.  

            But let’s claim the renewal story, as well. You had to define yourselves. You stayed in the city. Wounded, anxious, bewildered, and fearful. Powerless. You stayed in the city. Just as Jesus’ followers stayed together, for the most part. The ones who stayed in the city, at any rate, became the ones who experienced the joy and excitement of this beginning movement.

            You kept coming to this place to praise God and even if your faith seemed small and unassured, it was enough. You were empowered enough to redefine who you are, and what you want to say and be in Christ’s name.

You did your work. You stayed together in the city. Even though there had been hurt feelings and miscommunications and residual pain and confusion. You have stayed here, and something new has been born where the old once was. Something new.

            We need to remember that we are a new people. We are babes again. That can be confusing for those who find this infant worshipping community in the midst of this grand old building. ..  but it is true. And everything is up for grabs in this new way of being church. We are going to have to learn how to let go of ‘this is the way we have always done it.” That is museum language, not renewal language.

            We are going to have to begin asking tough questions. Really tough questions. Like ‘why’ we do things, and we have to ask if the things we have always done are really working for us. We have to start over. And over.

            The toughest questions of all are ‘why are we here?’ ‘What does God want us to do? What is our mission in the world?

            We are going to have to embrace those questions, and be willing to stay in the city and wait for God to make the next move.

            This is the hardest thing of all for us to do. Because we are addicted to activity. We are addicted to quick fixes and easy answers. We are addicted to being busy and we have swallowed the belief that if we are busy, we are important. It is a part of our consumer myth.

            And we believe that where action is – life is.

            Now, I know I am a city girl. But I’ve spent some time on farms and ranches. And I have actually seen a chicken with its head cut off.

            It does run around and around in circles. It cannot have a plan. It is actually dead. But it’s really busy. That chicken is not getting anywhere, and (excuse the dreadful pun) it certainly isn’t going to get ahead.

            Dead churches can be very busy. Busy-ness is not the measure of life. Life exists only where the Spirit moves in and out and among the people.

            That was what the early church was asked to do: “Stay in the city and wait for the Spirit . .  when they will be clothed with the Spirit from on high.

            Austin Farraer has said that in order to find Jesus, “we must start with Jesus and fan out from there until we find ourselves.”

            As we explore these questions let me point out some of the language from this prayer in Ephesians to those early Christians. Paul writes, praying that God give them ‘wisdom, revelation, enlightenment, so they may know hope in God’s power.’

            Wisdom, revelation, enlightenment and hope in God’s power.

            When I read the teachings of Jesus, and the messages of the prophets, I find that the role of the people of God is to be a conduit of God’s grace in the world.

            That is our primary reason for being.

            We are called to BE the people of God. To BE a people of faith, trusting in God at all times. That is not an activity. It is a way of life. It is a way of existing. It is the way of wisdom, revelation, enlightenment and hope in God’s power.

            It is not primarily about what we DO. It is primarily about BEING.

            You see, there are all kinds of organizations doing all kinds of good and meaningful and important things.

            But only faith organizations are conduits for God’s grace in the world. This is our uniqueness. This is our call.

            That is why Jesus told the disciples to wait in the city for the Spirit.

Not that there wasn’t anything else they could be doing. Healings, and feedings, and casting out demons. There was a lot to do.

            But the primary thing – the most radical thing – was to wait, to pray, to worship – to receive the power of God in order that they could BE the people of God in the world today. . The hope to which God has called us.

            We are called to be those who hope. Not in our own power or abilities, but in God. Anything we do, everything we do, is to be done out of that center. . .   can be done only because of that hope. It is that center, that wisdom, revelation, enlightenment and hope in God’s power which enables us to be in the world in faith rather than fear.

            While we wait for God’s next word to us, let us join our ancestors in the faith . . . let us follow their lead in this birthing process. . .

            we are told “they returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.”

            Let’s stay here in the city until we, too, have been clothed with power from on high just as the Holy One has promised.

            For that power that is God’s love.