Look out, not up

Easter 7 + Ascension Sunday + John 17:20-26 + Pr. Michelle Sevig

My heart has been weary these days. How about you? Three mass shootings in the past 14 days. A grocery store, a church, an elementary school. All places where community is formed and gathered, all afflicted by violence. 

I am angry, sad, overwhelmed, and yet, in many ways just numb to all of it and burned out by compassion fatigue. I find myself wondering, where is God? Where is the hope? Is there any good news to share?

On Wednesday this week, a few of us gathered for the Eucharist, as we do each Wednesday at 9:30. Overcome with grief that morning from the awful event the day before, we decided to do a service of lament. We prayed for the ones who have died due to gun violence in Buffalo, Laguna Woods, Uvalde and Chicago. And we asked God, in the depths of our pain and anger to hear our cries of despair, heed our calls for justice and to not let us lose hope. 

We also sang a newer hymn, unfamiliar to me, titled “Oh God, why are you silent?” Singing hymns together helps to name before God those feelings, thoughts, and beliefs we may not be able to express on our own. Together we sing not only our praise and thanksgiving, but express our sorrows, fears and longings.  This one, number 703 in the ELW, moved me and the others to tears as we cried out our lament, 

O God, why are you silent? 

I cannot hear your voice;

the proud and strong and violent 

      all claim you and rejoice;

You promised you would hold me 

with tenderness and care. 

Draw near, O Love, enfold me,

and ease the pain I bear. 

I am so thankful that our new hymnals include songs and services of lament; ways for us to passionately express our grief or sorrow. Because the Christian life is filled not only with joy and wonder, praise, and thanksgiving, but also sorrow and loss, grief and despair. 

      Typically, on Ascension Sunday we are invited to sing hymns that declare Jesus’ ultimate resurrected divinity; hymns like, “All Hail the Power of Jesus Name”.  The ascension of Christ is one of those moments in Scripture where we are invited to stand in awe of Jesus’ power and glory as the great high priest and redeeming Son of God “whose name is above all names.”

And yet, we know that in spite of the reign of the resurrected and ascended Christ, it is clear that evil is still at work in the world; it actually seems more broken and fallen than ever. In these days of violent loss, we may wonder about the nearness of Christ and stand looking up to the sky as the disciples did, feeling abandoned amidst our loss and grief. 

As the disciples looked upward, they were asked a question, “Why do you stand looking toward heaven?”  Jesus’ final words to them were to look out, not up; to be witnesses to the ends of the earth. Jesus promised the gift of the Holy Spirit to be with them in all circumstances. Jesus empowered the disciples to be his embodied witnesses in the world.

That invitation is not only for the disciples of long ago, but for us as well. Though our tendency might be to look up for God’s glory or promise or reassurance in these trauma filled and troubling times, this story from Acts invites us to not simply look up, but look around. Because God is at work in the world now, just as God has always been.  

Bishop Regina Hassanally wrote in her blog this week, “As I read (the scriptures), I am reminded of the ways God has always been at work in the world. I remember God’s work in Abram, a nomadic leader who was given the promises of blessing and land. I remember God’s work in Exodus. A people enslaved in a foreign land who, through journeys in the wilderness, become the People of God. I remember God’s work through a ragtag group of men and women who became the first followers of Jesus and the first proclaimers of the Good News. What scripture tells me is: God at work in the world is God at work through us. 

We are called to be Christ’s body in the world. writer, Sunday school teacher and armchair theologian, Anne Lamott, wrote this week, “We see Christ crucified in Texas and all we can do for now is not turn away. We look to see who around us most needs help…what was helpful after Sandyhook was that we stuck together in our horror, grief, anxiety and cluelessness. We grieved for families, for whom this will remain the end of their world. We cried or shut down, we blamed, despaired, raged, prayed. I recommend that we do this today. And after an appropriate time of being stunned and in despair, we sigh and help each other back to our feet. We do the next right thing. We register voters and march. We buy or cook a bunch of food for the local homeless. We return phone calls, library books, and smiles. We donate money. We practice radical self-care and say hello gently to everyone, even strange, lonely people who scare us. It can’t be enough, but it will be.”

Look out, not up this Ascension Sunday and always. Seek and find God’s presence in places of pain and suffering, as God works through you. For we are people called to do justice and love mercy. We do not have the luxury of looking to others to fix the problems we abhor. We are called to be people who show up, tell the truth, and point to Christ, so that everyone may live life abundantly.  

And as the 4th verse in the hymn I started with declares, 

May pain draw forth compassion, 

let wisdom rise from loss;

oh, take my heart and fashion

the image of your cross;

then may I know your healing

 through healing that I share,

your grace and love revealing, 

your tenderness and care. 

                        ELW 703, vs 1 and 4