Left Behind
Today is Ascension Sunday, the day in the liturgical year when we remember when Christ left his disciples for the second time. The past couple of weeks, we have been hearing passages from the gospel of John that have all been part of what’s known as the farewell discourse. This is the section of John’s gospel that contains all the things that Jesus wanted to make sure to say to his disciples before his death. This week, we have the opportunity to take a break from this long, drawn-out goodbye and look, instead, at what Luke’s gospel has to say about Jesus leaving the disciples after his resurrection. By this point in the story, Jesus has appeared post-resurrection. First, to Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary, mother of James. Then, to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Now, he shows up for the rest of the disciples, making sure that everyone who needs to know about the resurrection knows before he leaves.
Each interaction is pretty brief, and none of them leaves much time for asking questions or a big emotional reunion or any sort of processing of the grief and trauma that Jesus and his friends had shared. Jesus was gone. He had been killed. He had assured his friends that his death would mean something, that some change would come about as a result. And here he was, appearing to them as a group, resurrected, just as he had promised them he would be. “This is it,” they thought. “Jesus is back, and he’s going to set us free. He’s going to put up and show us that he was serious about all that Kingdom of God shtuff. Then they’ll all see that we were right this whole time.” Then, Jesus starts talking like he’s going to be heading out, so the disciples seize their chance and ask “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?” But they don’t get the answer they’re hoping for, though it might have been the answer they expected. “Wait,” Jesus says. “And do the things I’m telling you to do.”
The Ascension story can seem like one big anti-climactic disappointment. Jesus gets the disciples most of the way there, even comes back from the dead. It seems like the perfect time to get the upper hand on Rome—ghost Jesus leading an army of fishermen who have had their land and resources stolen to feed an imperial war machine. And then he just leaves…again. Perhaps we feel that sting still, in a world that refuses to change, that seems stuck in patterns of violence and bigotry. It can be easy to feel abandoned, let down, as if God has decided to leave us to figure things out on our own but we weren’t ready for such a responsibility. We can look around and wonder “where has our hope gotten us? What has our faith led us to? When can we expect the payout for our dedication, our commitment, our following?” The Ascension is hard, because it seems like a let-down. What happened to the Jesus who blessed the poor, who talked about the baptism by fire, who said he came not to bring peace, but a sword? Is this simply a story to explain why nothing had happened yet, to pacify us with the “everything happens in God’s time” platitude? Or does being left behind mean something?
Luke’s gospel isn’t the only one of the four that includes a story about Jesus ascending, though it is the only gospel that has always included this story. Mark’s gospel originally ended with the women finding the empty tomb and not telling anyone about it because they were terrified. Later on, there was a verse added about Jesus being taken up to Heaven to sit at God’s right hand. But that wasn’t always there. John’s gospel ends with a conversation between Peter and Jesus, with Jesus granting some sort of special status to the beloved disciple, who the writers of John’s gospel would probably say is John Matthew’s version of the story ends with the Great Commission, to go and make disciples of all the nations. While that might sound similar to what we hear from Luke, that’s where Matthew ends—with Jesus sending the disciples out. So, Luke’s gospel is set apart in this sense. No one else has Jesus ascending. Matthew and John specifically end with Jesus interacting with the disciples, still very much present among them.
So why would Luke do that? Why would Luke send Jesus away, take him out of the story? To get the full picture, it’s important to know that the author of Luke didn’t stop with the ascension. Rather, the book of Acts is a continuation of the gospel of Luke—not its own story. The very beginning of Acts, which is the first scripture we heard this morning, picks up right where Luke leaves off, and even gives us a recap of the closing scene of Luke’s gospel. And it’s the perfect way to open the second part of the story, because it shifts the focus from Jesus—the teacher and messiah who taught and led and raised up leaders—to the disciples, those whom Jesus entrusted to carry on what he began. This shift makes it clear, perhaps clearer than any of the other gospels, that the movement of the spirit and the revolutionary change that Jesus preached did not end with the death of Jesus or with the resurrection. The resurrection was only the beginning. The story continues with those who follow Jesus, who continue to preach and do the good works that he practiced in his ministry.
The ascension, then, isn’t the end of the story. It’s not the anti-climax. We’re just reading it wrong, because someone decided to put John in the middle of Luke’s really long gospel. And so the ascension, whether you believe it happened just like that or not, shouldn’t be a stumbling block. Rather, it ought to remind us that our call as the church is to continue the revolutionary, counter-cultural, life-altering work that Jesus began. It ought to remind us that Jesus' ministry did not end when he was murdered by the state, nor did it end when he was no longer physically present among the disciples. It ought to remind us that we are called to continue this ministry, and it ought to be a challenge to us not to get caught up in the disappointment that God hasn’t fixed everything, not to get caught up in the idea that God will do it for us, not to get caught up in the idea that we are somehow less responsible for living out this call to ministry than we would have been had Jesus hung around.
May we be called, this Ascension Sunday, to continue the story. May we be called not to complacency, but to share the Good News in word and deed with all people and in all places and with all of Creation. God still has work for us to do. The resurrection is only the beginning. May we live into this call, and do the work which Christ began to make this world whole. Amen.