We don’t look up to the skies for God to save all things; we look around at each other, filled with God’s Spirit, and see God bringing healing and hope to all through us.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Ascension of Our Lord
Texts: Acts 1:1-11; Luke 24:44-53, plus John 16:7

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

“Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away.” (John 16:7)

Much of what Jesus says in John’s Gospel on the night of his betrayal is words of encouragement to these women and men who follow him. He tells them he’s leaving them, but they’ll be alright. The Spirit will be with them, they will be one with the Father and the Son, they will not be orphaned.

But in the midst of that encouragement are these strange words, that Jesus leaving them is to their advantage. Not just “you’ll be OK when I’m gone,” but, “you need me to go.”

And that’s hard for us to understand, much less to trust. It was hard for this group of followers, too. In fact, angels feel compelled to appear and ask them just why they’re standing there, gazing up to heaven. They’re looking where Jesus disappeared because they don’t understand it yet.

We’re not that different from the disciples, or anyone expecting help from God.

Don’t we look up to the heavens – if not literally then spiritually – when things go wrong, wondering where God is, why God allowed this or that, what God intends to do to make things right? Like most humans throughout history, we tend to hope for magic more than relationship from God. Prayer is a way to get God to do what we want.

Some of the Jewish people expected a Messiah who’d restore Israel, end oppression, kick out Rome, and Jesus didn’t do any of that. But we who follow the risen Christ didn’t really learn from that.

Even after they faced the reality of Jesus’ death, once he is raised, Luke says, the disciples ask, “Now will you restore the kingdom to Israel?” It’s as if they’re saying, “OK, we missed that part where you were going to die. That’s our bad. But now that you’re alive again, we’re back to you fixing all our problems, right?

Little wonder they gaped at the sky when he left.

But we should answer the angels’ question, too.

Why would we stand idly in the world wondering why God isn’t fixing all the oppression and suffering, ending the rise of authoritarianism and fascism, bringing all peoples together as one? Wondering when God’s Son will return to fix things? Jesus says leaving us to deal with this ourselves is to our advantage.

This is the heart of Luke’s theology of today. He ends his Gospel with this story, and begins the sequel, Acts, with this story again.

Because in the Gospel, he tells of God’s Son, who, filled with the Holy Spirit, did amazing wonders, taught of God’s love and unlimited grace, sacrificed himself in love and rose to new life. The world began to be changed in this Spirit-filled Son of God.

And in Acts, Luke says we’re the same as Jesus. We’re promised the gift of the Holy Spirit and become, like Jesus, like the first believers, Spirit-filled children of God who change the world. Who do wonders in Christ’s name. Who love the world with vulnerability and so transform death into life, make God’s reign happen here. All with the power of God’s Spirit.

Jesus had to return into the life of the Trinity, or we’d just keep looking in his direction every time something needed doing.

After all, he’s the Son of God. He’s got all the power and ability.

But tonight it becomes clear: God’s transformation of the world will happen in the same way Jesus began, continued in us, through self-giving love, through re-creating relationships between the people of the world and God. As more and more of God’s children are transformed in that love, all the broken things, the oppressive things, the evil things, all that work against God, will crumble and fall. Unless we all just keep looking up at the sky.

It’s not terribly efficient, but the means are as important as the end to God. Forcing the world to love each other and God wouldn’t be worth anything. Jesus showed the power of God in his sacrificial love. And now for us in the world, the only way to show God’s power is by our sacrificial love. By the Spirit making us new from within so that we can love others, because in that love everything can be changed.

Tonight Jesus says, “tag – you’re it.” Or, “keep up the good work I started.”

Jesus promises that if we trust in him, if we abide in him and so in the life of the Triune God he’s opened up for us, we’ll do even more amazing things than he did. Because spread throughout all God’s children, the Holy Spirit can be working in every corner, every crack, every broken place in this world, bearing God’s redeeming, vulnerable love for the healing of all.

Because Christ has ascended, we don’t look up for God to fix everything. We look at each other, filled with God’s Spirit, the power of God, and say, “What can the Triune God do through us, now that we are Christ, now that we are called, now that we are sent?”

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

God’s people share one heart, have one home now and always in God – and that includes you, includes all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: John 14:1-14 (plus 13:36-38)

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

Peter must have nearly collapsed in despair.

Jesus struck at the heart of his bold loyalty. “Why can’t I follow you now?” Peter asked. “I would give my life for you.” “No,” Jesus said, “the truth is, tonight, before morning breaks, you will betray me by denying you even know me. And not just once. Three times.” It’s heartbreaking.

And it’s not the first time. Some weeks before, Peter also boldly declared his faith that Jesus was the Messiah, only to be called Satan for trying to stop Jesus from heading to his suffering and death. And just that evening, they had that little argument over the footwashing. So this last weight came on top of Peter’s already fragile sense of his own faithfulness.

The others had to be shaken, too. Maybe the footwashing conversation felt a bit amusing, typical blustery Peter getting it wrong. But Jesus had said at supper that one of them would betray him, and no one knew who. Now they must have thought: Peter? Our leader, the brave and foolish one, is the betrayer? How could their hearts stand it?

That’s why Jesus’ next words have to be heard in this proper context.

His very next words are, “Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in God. Trust in me.”

He says, “Yes, you will betray me tonight, deny me, run away. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust God. Trust me.” He says, “Yes, you have failed me, misunderstood my mission, tried to stop me from my path. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in me. Trust in God.”

I imagine Jesus touching Peter’s face, maybe embracing him to comfort him as he says these words: Yes, my dear, you will do badly tonight, and on more days and nights to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust me. Trust God. Into the heartbreaking reality of Peter’s coming failure, Jesus speaks words that still give us hope.

But here’s what you didn’t hear, couldn’t see.

Jesus isn’t just talking to Peter.

Jesus actually says, “All of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Our English pronouns are impoverished, as we’re learning in so many human and divine contexts these days. But John’s Greek readers would have understood this from the first: everyone is included in Jesus’ comfort and encouragement. The various Marys, and Thomas. Joanna, Matthew, and Mary Magdalene. Andrew and Salome. Susanna and Philip. And yes, Peter. Jesus knew all their hearts were breaking at this coming betrayal, and would break even more in the next days. So he spoke courage into them all.

And every “you” in today’s Gospel reading is plural, except that brief interchange with Philip. This promise of a place prepared, of the way, the truth, and the life, none of this is a promise to an individual.

Jesus is preparing a place in his Father’s house for the whole community, everyone, all brought in together by Christ. The healing grace of God in Christ isn’t something you can have or lose as an individual, even if you betray Christ, deny Christ with your life. You are in God’s community in Christ in baptism and Christ will bring the whole community into the life of God now and in a life to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust Jesus. Trust your God.

And in this community, failures, faithfulness, all are held and carried in Christ.

Because there’s something else to notice: Jesus says, “all of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Plural you. Singular heart.

This community of Christ shares a heart. One community, one home, one heart in Christ. So if, like Peter, you have a bad night, or week, or year, or if your heart is troubled, you are not alone. This community heart, fed and nourished in Christ, will hold you. Your anxiety and failure are shared across our heart and you will not be let go of.

In this community of Christ – which we know in the flesh here at Mount Olive but which extends throughout the world and throughout time – in this community, sharing one heart, your failure or mine can’t stop God’s love or break the community. God is making a place for all, and all includes you.

If you can grasp this promise, if all who bear Christ’s name can, wonders will happen.

This community in Christ will learn that Jesus is the Way we all live together, the path we learn together. No one walks it alone. It’s a path shaped by the Truth that is Jesus – a living Truth that reveals the vulnerable love of the Creator of the universe for us and for all. Living in this Truth, walking the Way together, never alone, we find the abundant Life that Jesus is, that Jesus told us last week he so desires for all. And together in this Way, Truth, and Life, we will do greater things even than Jesus, he promises. That’s how God will heal this world.

If salvation isn’t an individual thing – and that’s what Jesus promises today – and if we’re all in this together – Jesus promises that today, too – then don’t let your heart be troubled, beloved of God. We have a Way to walk, together, lived in the Truth of God’s love, animated by the abundant risen Life of Christ. And you belong.

That’s a lot to grasp. But actually, it’s only scratching the surface of God’s true desire.

All these promises today are made to the community of those who trust in Christ, but God plans so much more.

Jesus says in John 3 that because God so loved the whole cosmos God sent the Son to save and heal. Jesus says in Matthew 18 that his Father’s will is that not a single little one be lost. And in John 12, Jesus declared: “when I am lifted up (on the cross), I will draw all things to myself” (all things, not just all people).

So when Jesus says today that no one comes to the Father except through him, it’s the ultimate inclusion. Christ is drawing all things, every little one (human or not), the whole cosmos, into the heart of God. Today Jesus proclaims the promise to the end of the universe: everyone and everything gets to come to God through me. No one and nothing is lost.

We leave how all this works to the Triune God who won’t rest until every atom knows it is in God’s love always and forever. But even as we rejoice in the gifts and blessing of this community in Christ with our shared heart, we would do well to also rejoice that the God who loves us, loves all. No exceptions.

And surely that is good news for this broken, fearful, struggling world God loves so much.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

It is in community that we can share our doubts, strengthen each other, and be fed and healed by Word and Sacrament for our life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: Luke 24:13-35

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

Do you realize Thomas is one of the bravest disciples in the Gospels?

When Jesus decides to go to Jerusalem to deal with his dead friend, Lazarus, the disciples tell him not to go, that the leaders want to kill him. Jesus persists, and it’s Thomas who bravely says, “then let’s go die with him.”

On the night of his betrayal, when Jesus says “don’t be afraid, I’m going to prepare a place for you in my Father’s house,” and adds, “and you know the way to where I am going,” only Thomas has the courage to say what everyone else was thinking: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going.”

And when Thomas misses Easter evening, he shares his doubts and fears to his friends. They may have seen Jesus alive, but he says, “I need to see myself.” That takes courage to admit.

And Thomas finds his bravery in his community.

There’s a serious discussion among Christians today about the future of Christian community.

Since the pandemic separation, when congregations responded by finding ways to connect on the Internet, from streaming worship to online meetings, many are now asking if virtual connections are the church’s future.

Many of these are younger leaders who are used to connections, community, online, via social media and messaging. Some argue we need to recognize that community is more than being in person. In fact, some are saying that’s the past, that the way people experience community today is virtual, online. That’s our future.

That hasn’t been our experience here. As important as it was that we connected online during our COVID separation, we had, as a community, a deep desire to be with each other again, in the same space, able to see and talk to each other. Coming together for worship and fellowship again was a tremendous blessing and continues to be. It’s wonderful that we now reach people through livestreaming that we never did before. People join us for worship from far distances, and our own folks who can’t come on a Sunday are able to join in. This is miraculous. But it’s hard to imagine this congregation not continuing to cherish and seek being together in person.

Just like all these Easter stories. They all happen in community.

This couple from Emmaus go to their home together, and then return to be with the others that same night. The women go to the tomb together, not alone. Mary Magdalene runs to the other disciples twice, once to tell them Jesus’ body is gone, the other to say she’s seen the Lord. Peter and John go to the tomb together. Thomas misses the first Sunday night, but rejoins his friends the next. Peter and six others go fishing in Galilee and meet Jesus on the beach.

These people needed each other. They sought each other out. They didn’t face Jesus’ death alone, they gathered in the Upper Room. And no one stayed apart when news of Jesus’ resurrection started to spread.

They found their faith together, in doubt and fear, and in joy and hope.

The Emmaus couple shared their pain together: “We had hoped,” they sadly said, “that he was the one to save Israel.” Thomas opened his heart and told his friends he was struggling to trust what they said. Mary Magdalene poured out her fear to the others: “they’ve taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they’ve laid him.”

They shared their griefs, their doubts, their fears with each other, not pretending to have it all together.

And they shared their joy and faith. The Emmaus couple ran back eight miles after dark, just to tell the others what they’d seen. Mary witnessed that she’d seen Jesus. The other disciples told Thomas what they’d experienced. They all realized they weren’t complete without each other, in their doubts or in their joys.

Because the risen Christ brought healing and hope within their community.

Apart from Sunday morning’s appearances, every time they met the risen Christ they were fed with word and with food. That gave them peace, eased their fears, settled their doubts. They were encouraged, and loved, and sent.

On the road to Emmaus, Jesus opened the Scriptures to this couple, and when they invited him into their home, he broke bread with them, revealing himself as God’s risen life. In the Upper Room, Jesus breathed peace on them, sent them as God’s forgivers in the world, and ate with them. At that beach in Galilee, Jesus fed them with breakfast, and invited them to remember their love for him and their call to feed his lambs, to be his love. This is Word and Sacrament, every time! It is the Easter life.

What we do here in community each week is no accident.

So be bold. Be brave. You can trust this gift Christ gives.

Here you are fed by Word and Sacrament, and strengthened, and healed. Look around you at these people who share that healing with you. You can trust them and speak openly, like the Emmaus couple, like Thomas, like Mary, and say, “I have my doubts. I struggle with my faith. I need to see more. It feels like Jesus has been taken from me.” Here we hold each other in our fears. Here you’re not alone, even in those times you struggle to believe. Here we don’t pretend to have it together.

And here you can also be the other one, who will hold another and give them the hope of faith when theirs is struggling. Like Thomas on the way to Jerusalem, or Mary Magdalene after meeting Jesus, or this couple from Emmaus after they knew him in the breaking of the bread. We here for each other in our doubt and in our faith. And for those who can’t be with us in person for whatever reason, it is our duty, our joy, as a community, to go be with them, bringing Word and Meal and the gifts of community.

This community of faith is the gift of the risen Christ for you and for all. Trust it, and be brave: we’re all in this together. And we’re all in this with Christ.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen