Acts 1-12

September 29, 2002

(The Ascension)

Coventry

A Longing Goodbye

When I was a child, my very favorite person in the whole world was my maternal grandmother.  We lived in Worcester, Massachusetts, and my grandparents lived in Illinois.  Now I was a child a long time ago, in the Middle Ages. Jet planes were not in commercial use yet, and people simply didn’t fly around the country then the way they do today.   In the old days, long distance telephone calls were very expensive, and little kids didn’t talk on the telephone, even to grandparents.  As a matter of fact, most people didn’t even drive as far as Illinois for their vacations.  And, of course, e-mail hadn’t even been dreamed of.  So when my grandparents came to visit every few years, it was a BIG DEAL and a very special treat.  Rules were relaxed, and I basked in my grandmother’s love and patience.

When the week was over, after the suitcases were all packed and the car was loaded, we all went out to the car together and hugged and kissed and cried our goodbyes, and promised to write.  Then, finally, the car backed out of the driveway and we followed along, waving madly calling “GOOD BYE!  GOODBYE!”  The car accelerated down the road and my parents and brother went back into the house.  But I stayed out in the street waving and calling out, “Good bye! Good bye!”  The car went to the end of the street and disappeared   around the corner. 

And I remember still standing in the empty street, tears streaming down my face, waving to the emptiness, still saying ,”Good Bye...Good Bye...Good Bye.”  Did you ever have someone like that?  Someone who loved you so well that you never wanted to say goodbye?

In retrospect, I realize I wasn’t saying “Good bye” at all.  I was saying, DON’T GO!!!”

*     *     *


In this morning’s scripture reading from the book of Acts, the disciples come together and talk with Jesus one last time.  He has said he’s leaving, and they are filled with memories of their time with him - how he taught them things no one else ever had, how he trusted them even when they weren’t trustworthy. They remember the times he’d partied with them and joined them for meals........How he loved them.........And then, as they watched, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. And they were standing there, gazing into heaven.  They were reaching after him, mute with sorrow, gazing into heaven.....  I think we can imagine how the disciples were feeling that day in Jerusalem, that day when Jesus left forever. 

Then with a typical Biblical twist, while the disciples are looking toward heaven, aching with grief, two men in white robes stood by them.  Well, we know that when men in white robes show up in the New Testament, we’re talking about angels.  Now when the angels show up, I always think some great and holy mystery is about to be revealed.  After all, angels are messengers from God, and they don’t deal in mundane gossip. I think of the angels who ministered to Jesus during his 40 days in the desert, and I imagine angels to be caring.  But these angels are strictly business.  Without so much as a sympathetic murmur, the angels scold the disciples, “Why do you stand there looking into heaven?  That’s not where you’re going to find Jesus.”  The disciples sigh. These grown men who are fishermen and carpenters and tax men, strong men, REAL men:  they don’t dare look at one another lest they burst into tears. Silently, they turn and head back into the city, hardly able to see where they are walking, hardly caring.

*    *    *

I recently read a book by Douglas Coupland.  He writes about his experience as a member of Generation X: his book is called, interestingly, Life After God.  The title caught my attention because I remember the Cover of Time magazine, many years ago, proclaiming that God was dead.  I have two children of Generation X, one at the very beginning and one at the very end, and I wondered what things look like from their perspective.  I’d like to share some excerpts from Coupland’s book:


As suburban children, we floated at night in swimming pools the temperature of blood; pools the color of Earth as seen from outer space.  (M)y friends and me–hip-chick Stacy with her long yellow hair and Malibu Barbie body; Mark, our silent strongman; Kristy, our omni-freckled joke machine; voice-of-reason Julie, with her “statistically average” body; honey-bronze ski bum Dana, with his ... suspiciously large amounts of cash; and Todd, the prude....We would float...–pretending to be embryos, pretending to be fetuses–all of us silent save for the hum of the pool filter.  Our minds would be blank and our eyes closed as we floated in the warm waters, the distinction between our bodies and brains reduced to nothing–bathed in chlorine and lit by pure blue lights installed underneath diving boards.

Ours was a life lived in paradise, and thus it rendered any discussion of transcendental ideas pointless.  Politics, we supposed, existed elsewhere in a televised non-paradise; death was something similar to recycling.  Life was charmed but without politics or religion.  It was the life of the children of children of the pioneers–life after God--a life of earthly salvation on the edge of heaven...I think there was a trade-off somewhere along the line.  I think the price we paid for our golden life was an inability to fully believe in love; instead we gained an irony that scorched everything it touched.  And I wonder if this irony is the price we paid for the loss of God.

 

Then Coupland adds something that reached so deeply inside of me I held my breath.  He says:


Some facts about me: I think I am a broken person...Sometimes I look back into my life and am surprised at the lack of kind things I have done.  Sometimes I just feel that there must be another road that am be walked...Now—here is my secret: I tell it to you with the openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words.  My secret is that I need God–that I am sick and can no longer make it alone.  I need God to help me because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.[1]

*    *    *

Me as a little girl gazing down the empty street.  The disciples gazing into the empty heaven.  Douglas Coupland gazing into the emptiness of his own soul.  What does this passage say to our longing, to our emptiness?  When I first read the passage, I “heard” the angels chastising the disciples: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand there looking into heaven?”  As if they ought to be doing something better with their time - spreading the good news, though God knows losing Jesus was hardly good news, or feeding the poor, though God knows they hadn’t yet learned how to multiply fishes and loaves, or healing the sick, though they themselves were sick with grief. 

*     *     *

A few years ago when I was working with the confirmation class, I was dismayed to discover the depth of the teens’ belief that the world is so filled with pain and trouble–with war and starvation and fear and burglary and alcoholism and drug addiction and murder and kidnaping and natural catastrophes–the trouble in the world so overwhelming  that they believed there is no hope, that there is nothing one person, or even a whole church can do that will make a difference in the world.  It occurs to me that they are a generation that was brought up starting their day in school with a moment of silence instead of a prayer, a generation brought up with television technology that brings not just the news of war and reports of personal devastation, but actual life footage of children dying of starvation, of bombs blowing people to bits, of families standing frozen in shock as they look at the wreckage of their homes following a storm or flood.  Our kids live in a world where it is all too easy to believe that even God doesn’t have a chance.  Even God can’t begin to make a difference in our world. 


Sometimes - sometimes I know how they feel.  Sometimes I myself am so overwhelmed by the bad news that I lose sight of the good news.  Don’t you feel that way sometimes?  Do you ever watch the news onTV at night and wonder what is happening to our world?  To our planet? To our neighborhood?  But the nightly news is LESS THAN HALF THE NEWS.  All the horror we see on television is only a SMALL part of what’s going on in our world.  There are billions of people - Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists - believers of all kinds who donate money, clothing, and time to help those who are suffering.  Believers lift their hearts to the Almighty and pray trillions of prayers every day.  If there are millions of robberies, there are an infinite number of free gifts given between friends and strangers, from a smile or a quarter put in an expired parking meter to a life given in mission or in heroic effort.  Heifer Project saves hundreds of families--one chicken at a time.  Project Hope heals the sick–one pill at a time.  Americares feeds the starving--one bowl of rice at a time. 

So it occurs to me that maybe the angels in the passage this morning were not telling the disciples that they should not look up to heaven.  Maybe the angels were encouraging them to keep their eyes turned upward.  They need to look to heaven to remember there is one who WILL help them  Maybe the angels were saying, “Remember WHY you are gazing into heaven.”  The disciples, having just lost Jesus, need to look into heaven to remember that loss is not all there is.  That hidden in the clouds there is One who is all knowing, all powerful, and always–ALWAYS–present and working with us, and in us to spread the Good News, feed the hungry, and heal the sick. Hidden in the clouds is One who comes to us with love and forgiveness, with guidance and strength, with wisdom and tenderness.  When we feel empty or broken, when we feel overwhelmed by the demands of a sick child or a financial crisis, when we feel hurt by betrayal or a broken dream, the angels remind us: Look up! Look into the heavens! Because it is in the heavens that we will find–not just more than half the news.  We will find the Good news.  And when we look up, we will discover that the Good news is the only news there is.        The Good News is the ONLY news there is.                                                                                               AMEN

 

                                                                             



[1]Douglas Coupland, Life After God (Simon & Schuster, 1995)excerpts from  pp.271-273, 301-359.