Jesus prays within the life of God that we all be one – even our own community here at Mount Olive – and in that prayer we find hope in this time apart.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Seventh Sunday of Easter, year A
Texts: Acts 1:6-14; John 17:1-11

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Jesus prayed that “they” all be one, even as he and the Father are one.

Think of that. Jesus, the Incarnate God-with-us, God’s Word in our flesh, the eternal Son of God, prays within the life of the Trinity that we (if we’re part of Jesus’ “they”), that we be one even as God is One within that life of the Trinity.

But who is the “they” Jesus prays about? The Scriptures declare, as we learned last week, that all things, all people, will be drawn up into the life of God in Jesus’ death and resurrection. This is God’s will, and it will be done.

But in this particular prayer, Jesus prays specifically for his followers, those who trust him as God’s Anointed. Here, Jesus prays within God’s life for all Christians to be one, a important and needed prayer.

But in this time we’re apart, we could also take the “they” one step closer to home. Our community of Mount Olive is also dear to the heart of the Triune God, and in this prayer, the Son is also praying that we, the people of God who come together as Mount Olive, might be one, even as the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are One.

But how can we be one when we can’t even be together? That weighs heavily on my heart. In a hymn we love to sing, we pray: “Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days.” That is our deep need, right now.

There’s a joy in the community of believers we hear of today that is hard to see.

In these days between Christ’s Ascension and the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost, the believers gather together. The closest inner group – the remaining eleven, some of the women (Jesus’ mother is named, and we can be sure Mary Magdalene was there), and even Jesus’ brothers – this inner group of leaders gathered in the Upper Room. They devoted themselves to prayer together, Luke says.

Just that simple. They wanted to be together, so they were. They wanted to pray together, so they did.

We can’t even imagine that right now. We worship in our homes, and God blesses that, but we deeply long to be together. Our ministry with our neighbors is sharply limited. We do church business by meeting remotely, but the simplicity and ease of understanding that comes from meeting face to face is kept from us.

This is right and good. Opening ourselves to being a hot spot where the virus can rapidly spread and kill would be irresponsible and sinful. But the oneness of these believers, the ease with which they gather and live in community, is painful to see right now.

We’ve taken for granted how easily we were able to find each other in community.

Around 225 of us gather together on any normal Sunday. There are people you see every week in the pews you always sit in, your regular neighbors. You come, knowing you will likely see them. There are others you see in the greeting of Christ’s peace, others you know you will likely see at coffee hour. Think of how many of this community you might see on any given normal Sunday. And we used to need to do nothing for this except get dressed on a Sunday morning and come to church.

What those in our community who are homebound already knew, we all know now. To come to church whenever you want is an astonishing grace. It means sharing life with whoever is there, whether for worship or community meal or meetings or Bible study or shared ministry. You don’t have to look at a directory and decide who you’ll meet. It just happens. Until you can’t come.

Now our challenge is to learn how to be one, together, while we are apart. When it’s not easy. “Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days.”

The wisdom and courage we need from God is to be intentional and creative in how we can stay together while apart.

Since you can’t just see people randomly, you’ll need to think. Who are your pew neighbors? Have you spoken recently? Whom do you see in the hallway on the way to coffee that you love to catch up with? Could you send them a note? I rejoice to hear of those in the congregation who are calling and writing to each other, just to stay connected. We all need to find that joyful intentionality.

There are other creative things you can do. A group of members who live near each other shared in a recent Olive Branch that they have a virtual dinner regularly. They all eat a shared meal, but all in their own homes, while on a video call. Are there Mount Olive neighbors near you that would want to do this? Are there other “virtual groups” you can start? Some are doing remote cocktail parties or coffee times.

Your leaders at Mount Olive are working on this, too. We already have a group of intentional callers, and could always use more. Now we’re dreaming of other ways we can maintain our community as these months apart stretch on. Perhaps a virtual coffee hour at a certain time on Sunday mornings, or helping organize remote neighborhood gatherings. I’m hoping to get another Bible study written so we can see each other remotely and listen to God’s Word together. There are many things we can do.

We pray, “grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days,” because our lives depend on this community.

We meet and know the Triune God when we are with each other. And to know God is eternal life, Jesus prays today.

Eternal life – something we for centuries have reduced to only life after death – also means knowing the Triune God who comes to us in Christ in this life! Since God is embodied in us, when we’re together as a community, we know God better. We find eternal, abundant life. You and I see the face of God in each other, know the hands and voice of God from each other. This community of faith is a sure sign of God in our lives.

It’s vital that we creatively and intentionally work together to maintain our community in this time apart, lest we lose the abundant life of knowing God now, in each other, that is one of God’s greatest gifts.

We can’t risk each other’s lives, or plan events that risk our safety. We can’t see each other face to face, or hug each other. So, we need to find out how we can be God for each other, in those creative, yet safe ways. “Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the living of these days,” we pray.

And that’s the Good News for today, too. Because we’re not the only ones praying that.

Jesus prayed that “they” all be one, even as he and the Father are one.

The unity of all God’s children is on God’s heart and mind, and part of the Triune God’s inner prayer and love and discussion.

And so is the unity of those who are called together as Mount Olive in this time and place. Our life together matters to God as much as the life of all God’s children matters. The wideness in God’s mercy, as we also love to sing, has room for thousands of worlds such as this. And the love of God can even devote prayer time for our little band of siblings in Christ as we seek to remain one while apart.

And God promises to make this oneness happen, too, that’s what Jesus’ prayer really means. God’s inner prayer is our hope and our life, because the courage and wisdom we need to do this together will be granted, for the living of these days. This is most certainly true.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

The disciples’ joy at Jesus’ ascension comes from a foundation of trust in who Christ is and who they are in Christ. The light of Christ is not extinguished; it’s changed. Now, the disciples are tasked with carrying it out into the world.

Vicar Bristol Reading
The Ascension of Our Lord
Texts: Acts 1:1-11; Luke 24:44-53

Beloved in Christ, grace and peace to you in the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

When Jesus ascends into heaven, right before their very eyes, the disciples are overjoyed!

I have to admit, this reaction surprises me. Joy? Confusion and fear seem to be more their style. Even if we consider only the weeks since Palm Sunday, when the disciples arrived in Jerusalem with Jesus, they have rarely reacted to events with joy. What they have done is misunderstand Jesus’ teachings, get into arguments about who’s the greatest, fall asleep while praying, and deny even knowing Jesus. Not to mention doubting the resurrection, locking themselves away in fear, and failing to recognize the risen Christ. The disciples aren’t especially known for their celebratory responses.

Even at the start of the last conversation before the ascension, the disciples “startled and terrified” when Jesus shows up. They think he’s a ghost! (Luke 24:37) How do they get from startled and terrified at the beginning of the conversation, to overjoyed by the end, especially considering this is their last conversation with Jesus? What does he tell them that causes such a change of heart?

Before his ascension, Jesus shares four things with the disciples: a teaching, a mission, a promise, and a blessing.

Jesus begins, as he did on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:27), with teaching. He teaches the disciples about the law and the prophets. He “opens their minds to understand the scripture.” (Luke 24:44) Jesus wants them to be able to understand his life, death, and resurrection within the wider narrative of God’s relationship with people of faith. And he wants them to understand their own role within that narrative as well.

So he gives them a mission. “You are witnesses,” he tells them. They are being sent out in the world to tell the story of God’s love in Christ. The early church will come back to this mission again and again. Although the word “witness” is only used a handful of times in the Gospels, in the book of Acts, which describes the life of the early church, it’s used more than a dozen times. The leaders of the early church reminded themselves of this vocational calling many times. We are witnesses. We are the ones who tell the story of God’s grace. We are the ones who testify to the power of the Gospel.

To be a witness was not an easy task, and in truth, many of the early Christians suffered because of their witness. Many were killed because of it. The same word that means ‘witness’ becomes synonymous for one who is killed because of their faith: a martyr. To be a witness requires commitment, courage, even self-sacrifice.
So Jesus gives them a promise: the Holy Spirit will empower you for this work. Although this is Jesus’ farewell to his disciples, the on-going presence of God will stay with them. Divine power will be poured out on them, Jesus says, it will clothe them. They will be surrounded, enfolded, covered by the mysterious and transformative power of God’s spirit.

And if those three gifts weren’t enough– the scriptural teaching, the call to be witnesses, the promise of the Holy Spirit– Jesus leaves them with a final blessing. The text says that while he is still speaking this blessing over them, that Jesus is drawn away into heaven (Luke 24:51). The very final words they heard him speak are ones of blessing and sending. There’s no more conversation; Jesus is gone, right before their very eyes.

And the disciples are overjoyed!

They leave eager to worship, committed to one another and to the Gospel. Perhaps Jesus’ parting gifts– teaching, calling, promise, and blessing– perhaps these helped the disciples bear the pain of this separation. It seems likely they still had questions, doubts, fears. They were still shocked and grieving. Likely they got into more arguments, made more mistakes, continued to be the same people who were masterful at missing the point. And yet, these disciples step into the next chapter of their lives with confidence and joy because they trust who Christ is and who Christ has called them to be.

They trust who Christ is. When Jesus told them that he would not leave them orphaned, they believed him. When Jesus told them that his body was given for them, they took him seriously. When Jesus told them that the gift of the Holy Spirit would be poured out on them, they knew it would be so.

And they trust who they are in Christ. Their identities are rooted in the truth and freedom of the Gospel. Jesus has made them witnesses, and they know that being called and sent by Christ changes everything. Their role is to go out and proclaim forgiveness in Chris’s name. Who wouldn’t be joyful at the task of inviting others into the life-giving, heart-opening, grace-filled way of Christ!

It’s not as powerful as having Jesus speak it to you, but I want you to know that this is your vocation as well.

And the gifts that Jesus gave the disciples are also yours: the teaching of scripture, that speaks the Word of God to you; the mission to witness to the redemptive love of God for the world; the promise that God’s powerful spirit is poured out on you; and the everlasting blessing of the holy and Triune God. These are also for you.

The Ascension story isn’t about Jesus absence it’s about Christ’s presence – in you!

It’s a story we tell our children every week in Godly Play. Every Godly Play classroom has a Christ candle that gets lit as children gather, a reminder that the light of Christ is with us. When it’s time to leave and put the candle out, we say, “Watch carefully, the light is going to change.” The light was all in one place, but it can be in many places at once. Like the smoke rising from the wick, God’s presence fills the room in a different way. We tell the children the Christ light still shines in each of you, and you will carry it out into the world. That’s what the story of Ascension is about, and that’s why it’s a story of joy.

After Jesus ascended to heaven, just in case the disciples missed that point (like I said, they did have a track record) some mysterious robed messengers show up to remind them (Acts 1:9-10). “Why do you stand looking up to heaven?” they ask the disciples. In other words: What are you looking at? The light isn’t up there. The light has changed. You’re carrying it. You know who you are. You’re witnesses. So you’d better get going out into the world and shine that light.

Amen.

All people: God is the God of all, and has made all creatures to search for God. As we know God in Christ, we, with “gentleness and reverence,” invite people to know the God who made and loves them.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixth Sunday of Easter, year A
Texts: Acts 17:22-31; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Pandemic.

It’s a word we’re sick of, it gives us fear and anxiety and grief and anger.

It’s Greek. “Pan-demos.” Meaning, “all people”. When the World Health Organization recognizes that a significant number of the world’s countries and population are at risk of a particular disease, they declare it a pandemic. “All people” are at risk of suffering. “All people” should take care.

“All people” divides our national response to this crisis. Our national government has a significant number of leaders, including the president, who don’t care about “all people” in the U.S., let alone the world. Many decisions made at the highest level intend to help only a small group of people, disregarding “all people,” the people who will actually get sick, suffer, and potentially die because of those selfish decisions.

But the word pandemic isn’t by itself a bad word. It’s an adjective, it describes something else. A pandemic disease is terrible, a horror we pray will be brought under control, and soon. But even saying “all people” are suffering from this crisis claims we are all together in this as one on this planet. That’s a really good thing.

And what if we modify other words and thoughts with the word “pandemic”? Learn a “pandemic” way of thinking and being that always begins with “all people,” not with our own personal wants, or our own country’s wants? A pandemic lens for thinking and being would see all people as our siblings, all people as ones who matter, no people as our enemies. This would be a huge blessing.

The honest truth, though, is we Christians often lead the call for an exclusive lens of thinking and being, not one that embraces all people.

We take words like Jesus’ in today’s Gospel and turn them from encouragement for his disciples into words excluding anyone who doesn’t believe as we do. The Church as the exclusive place of those God loves has been a tremendously sinful idea for much of our history. It’s led to much destruction and death, often at our hands.

But if we were to really understand Jesus, we’d see the risen Christ’s desire is that not a single creature be left orphaned, alone, not just us. Yes, here he says his followers will encounter a world which doesn’t see the Spirit of truth at work, doesn’t trust Jesus is the Christ. That’s helpful awareness.

But throughout his preaching and teaching, Jesus is clear that God’s love in Christ is for “all people,” a pandemic love, a love even for the whole cosmos. All things will be drawn into God as Jesus is lifted up on the cross. None of God’s children will be left orphaned. All people will be brought into the abundant life God has made in the world in Christ.

Listen to what we prayed at the start of worship today: “Almighty and ever-living God, you hold together all things in heaven and on earth. In your great mercy receive the prayers of all your children, and give to all the world the Spirit of your truth and peace, through Jesus Christ.”

We have made it clear to the Holy and Triune God today that we recognize God is a pandemic God, God for all people. Now, how will we live in a way consistent with our prayer?

The apostle Paul, on the Areopagus in Athens, declares a beautiful vision of such a pandemic God.

A few verses earlier, Paul is distressed when walking around Athens and seeing all the temples to idols. But when the Athenians invite Paul to speak, he does something remarkable.

He speaks graciously about the Athenians’ religiosity, that they clearly care about faith and prayer, to have all those temples. Then he speaks of their temple “to an unknown God” and proclaims a welcoming vision of God’s love for them and for all.

God is not confined to these temples and shrines we build, Paul says. This God the Athenians call “unknown” is actually the God of the universe, maker of all things and all creatures. Every human being derives from the creation of this God, Paul says. And remarkably, this unknown God of whom Paul speaks actually wants all people to search for and find God. To grope until they touch God.

God, in this pandemic love, longs to live inside each of God’s children. All are God’s offspring, even these Athenians, all are loved by the God Paul proclaims, who raised Jesus from the dead.

This is the heart of Jesus’ teaching, that God has come in Christ for all, and Paul invites the Athenians to know that God, too.

Today Peter says, “Always be ready to make an explanation to those who ask for an accounting of the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence.” Here, Paul’s speech is a direct result of the Athenians asking Paul to say more about what he believes, what he hopes.

And Paul’s speech models the gentleness and reverence Peter asks for, too. Paul listens to and observes the Athenians, their culture, their faith. He walks around the city and gets a feel for who they are. Then, when asked, he proclaims the good news of God in Christ in a way that opens God’s love for all people.

Peter and Paul show us our path of living faithfully in trust of our pandemic God.

First, your life will be visibly different enough that people actually demand from you an explanation of your hope, your faith. Does your love of others witness to your world? Can people see your hope in God’s love for all people enough that they might dare to ask you about it? Even in this time apart, each of us have opportunities to witness by our kindness, our love, our hope, our politics, that God is a pandemic God who loves and heals all.

Imagine what our country and world would be like if everyone who belonged to Christ were beacons of hope and love to their families and friends, acted as if all people matter to God and to them, and showed this in public, and on social media, so much so that people asked, “where do you find that?”

And when you engage others who don’t believe as you, when you’re talking about the hope that is in you, follow Paul and listen first. Observe their lives, their faithfulness. Even if it distresses you, like Paul, set that aside and pay attention. Then, when you do speak from your hope, the gentleness and reverence will naturally be there. It will come out graciously and will invite people to know the God who made them and desires to be touched by them. To live in them.

It is the Triune God’s deep desire that all God’s children find home and abundant life in God here.

None of God’s children can be left orphaned, alone, with no one and no God to love them. In Christ’s death and resurrection, God’s life and love have begun the transformation of this world, for all people, pan demos.

It sounds simple, that you could live with this hope and actually witness by your life and your reverent, gentle words, that all people are a part of God’s love. But it is how God’s love for all people will finally get to all people. It’s how God’s healing can even start changing our society and world to be one where all people are always considered and cared for.

Because our pandemic God wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen