Something to stand on

Readings: Acts 1 v1-14

In the Name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit

Those accounts of Jesus’ ascension into heaven,

where we read of Jesus being “caught up in a cloud”

stirred something in me this week.

We live in a part of the world where we see a fair bit of clouds.

But not just the all too familiar rain clouds.

We see all sorts of patterns  and formations of clouds, some of them unique to our position in this part of the world.

I don’t know as much as I should about the why’s of the particular clouds we see but I am fascinated by them. I love to imagine pictures in the clouds or, quite simply, just admire the intricate patterns woven in the sky.

And as I read this passage from Acts about Jesus ascending into a cloud, other cloud images from the bible came into my head:

Many important biblical events seemed to happen under

cover of clouds:

When Moses met with God on Mount Sinai, cloud covered

the mountain and the “devouring fire of God” was witnessed by the Israelites far below.

In the wilderness, often, when God appeared to Moses in a tent of meeting, a pillar of cloud covered the entrance to the tent.

When Jesus was transfigured on a mountain top, in the presence of some of his disciples, a cloud obscured Jesus and the disciples with him from the folk waiting below.

A voice from the cloud said: This is my son – listen to him.

Reminiscent of Jesus baptism when its not so much a cloud

that is manifest but an opening of the Heavens with doves

appearing and a voice saying: This is my own dear son, with

whom I am pleased.

Moments of mystery and moments of clarity.

Brightness and obscurity.

Moments of significance somehow too bright to be witnessed except under cover of cloud.

And so to today’s Ascension accounts.

As the disciples watched, Jesus was taken up to heaven

and a cloud hid him from their sight.

Jesus had spent quite some time teaching his disciples,

getting them ready for this moment when he must leave

them. He spoke of it before his death and after his resurrection.

Jesus took pains to prepare them as best he could for what lay ahead.

He’d warned the disciples that he couldn’t remain with them but

had promised them that they would not be alone – that

he would send his Spirit.

And next Sunday, that is what we will celebrate –

Pentecost, the coming of God’s Spirit.

But, first of all, let’s celebrate the ascension of our Lord.

Let’s imagine the perspective of Jesus disciples as they saw their Lord disappear into the clouds.

How must they have felt?

How do you feel on those days when your life seems overshadowed by clouds?

Is that a familiar place for you?

Is it  a comforting place or a disturbing place?

“Being caught up in the clouds” can bring joy – it can

also bring terror.

The joy of anticipation.

Or the terror of unknowing.

Are the clouds that inhabit our lives a shadow?

Or do they signal a passage to a brighter place?

What was going on in the hearts and minds of the disciples as they saw Jesus being taken from them – again!

And is it any wonder that they stood and stared?

Until they were challenged to get on with their lives.

A timely intervention.

And maybe the words spoken to the disciples as they continued

to watch the sky are also timely words for us today:

“Why are you standing there looking up at the sky? This

Jesus who was taken from you into heaven will come back

in the same way you saw him go.”

Why are you standing there looking up at the sky?

Words for all of us today.

When we’re left wondering.

When we’re frightened.

When we want to be sure.

It is so tempting when we’re in a place of uncertainty, to simply do nothing.

Sometimes it seems the safest option.

And so we stand and look into the sky.

Looking for divine inspiration or assurance or something

that will convince us.

We want certainties, not risk.

And what Jesus reveals again and again is that God’s

kingdom is a kingdom of risks.

A kingdom that cries out for risk takers.

For only those willing to take risks can daringly follow the

one who rides the clouds.

Why are you standing there looking into the sky?

When its time to act.

Following Jesus compels folk to take risks, to throw away

the rules and the need to conform -and be different.

Because at the heart of faith is the willingness to trust

the one who came to make all things new, the one who was

taken up in the clouds and who will return the same way.

The one who gives us freedom to do a new thing, to try a

new way.

To leave our tradition behind and risk living our lives in the

clouds, transformed by the presence of God in our

everyday.

Faith encourages us to soar with the risen Christ, to ride

the thermals.

One of my favourite books was written by Richard Bach in

the 70s, called Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a book about a very

independent bird, who dared to question what was being

taught and told to him by the elders passing on the

tradition by which they had always lived.

But Jonathan Livingston Seagull was an individual who didn't just want to spend his days searching for food and hanging out doing what was

expected of him like all the other birds - he was different.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull dared to dream.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull spent his days learning to fly – to fly faster and better than any other gull in the flock.

And he learned from all of his searching and trying that he

could in fact do anything.

If he wanted it badly enough, Jonathan Livingston Seagull

would go for it – he would take a risk – and he would

accomplish what he had set out to do.

Of course, this made him unpopular with the rest of the

flock.

Movers and shakers, those who are innovative, are often

despised.

Folk who won’t conform are often shunned.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull was cast out from the flock.

Yet he knew a different way of life to which none of the

others would ever aspire.

Shouldn’t there be – might there be - a freedom and a daring like that for us in the church?

An unwillingness to settle for what has “aye been”.

The imagination to do things differently - Even if it upsets folk.

Our calling is to take risks, to take hold of the power that

our ascended Lord promised us before leaving.

Consider these words from Poet and Community Activist Patrick Overton:

"When you come to the edge of all the light you have

known, and are about to step out into darkness, Faith is

knowing one of two things will happen There will be

something to stand on, or you will be taught to fly."

Something to stand on or being taught to fly.

The ascension of our Lord was a time of moving on, of

passing on the baton to us his followers.

Not so we would stand around wondering what we would do

with it.

But so that we would take faith to the ends of the earth.

That great commission  - Go to people everywhere and make disciples – that great commission demands innovation, involves taking

risks and encourages us to soar.

It involves all of us moving on in our faith.

From the safety of where we are at – to risking the

unknown.

To soar with the ascended Christ – caught up in the clouds,

transformed by mystery and possibility.

Finding new ground on which to stand or being taught to fly.

Let me share with you a meditation I wrote for Ascension:

He left them to it

and went back to the Father

Gave them the great commission

and then took off

as only Jesus could

took off

in a cloud of glory

leaving the disciples

wallowing in a cloud of confusion

and today

millennia on

it seems we're still

surrounded by clouds

covered in confusion

not sure of what's next

And so, once more

Christ commissions us

Go

into all the world

make disciples

baptise

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

no contingency

you

and I

are it.

Go

and make disciples.

We've been tagged.

Let’s be willing to learn to fly – for the glory of God. Amen