Hard to Believe [Easter 7A - Acts 1:1-14]

The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson

Acts 1:1-14

 

Hard to Believe

Good Shepherd, Elizabethtown

 

It was hard to believe.  And they were standing right there, watching it happen.  They thought that Jesus might finally settle down, after everything, but instead he was going up.  And there was no stopping him.  Before their very eyes, he was lifted up, beyond their reach, beyond their words, beyond any feeble attempt to reason with him, or beg him to stay.  There was nothing they could do but watch him go.  And that is exactly what they did: they just stood there staring, stunned silent, mouths agape, angels lecturing and shouting instructions.  They likely arrived on the scene with some preconceived notion, some sense of expectation.  But they were not expecting this.  It was just so hard to believe.

 

But for the disciples, this was nothing new.  Not really.  Jesus had this tendency to surprise them.  Even when he left them big, old breadcrumbs to follow, not-so-subtle hints to help them, they were just always caught flat-footed.  Jesus called them, invited them to follow him.  And they did, they did follow Jesus; they followed, mostly faithfully, until he floated out of sight.  But it always felt less like following and more like desperately trying to keep up, like a little brother hustling to run with his older sibling.  Honestly, Jesus walked and his disciples kind of just stumbled after him, down a path they found utterly unpredictable, behind a master who was shrouded in a mystery that refused to dissipate. 

 

Before this Ascension event, before Easter, even long before the bad stuff, the Maundy Thursday arrest and Good Friday, Jesus warned the disciples that he was destined to suffer and die.  He laid it all out; he told them that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering, and be killed.  And Peter, on behalf of the twelve, took him aside and rebuked him.  Because why ruin the mood; why be so bleak when things are so good?  Jesus clearly marked the path ahead, but the disciples could not, or would not, read the signs.  Because it was impossible.  Jesus was good and he did good.  And the crowds were large – and they were being healed and taught and fed and loved.  The future looked nothing but bright.  But Jesus talked of a terrible death – and kept talking about it, until it actually happened.  It was hard to believe.  And so when Jesus’ predictions came true, the disciples scattered, and hid, and wept.

 

Even though they should have known better.  In addition to predicting suffering and death, Jesus also foretold his resurrection.  But again, it was hard to believe.  He offered them handy metaphors: unless a grain of wheat dies, destroy this Temple and in three days I will raise it.  Sometimes he didn’t even use metaphors; he just talked plainly: I will be killed, and on the third day I will be raised to life.  And again, it was hard to believe.  Because it had never happened.  And it was not supposed to happen like that.  The theologians of the day who believed in resurrection (and not all did, remember the Sadducees argued with Jesus against the resurrection) believed that the resurrection was a one-time event, at the end of the story.  No one expected a single person to be raised to life on a Sunday. 

 

Even after the tomb came up empty, the disciples still found it all hard to believe.  Instead of spreading the word or dancing in the streets, they locked themselves in a house because of fear.  And didn’t believe until they saw Jesus for themselves – first the ten and then Thomas.  Even though Jesus prepared them for Easter, they were not prepared for it.  Because it was hard to believe.

 

Forty days after Easter, after the suffering, and the death, and the Resurrection, they are finally starting to accept that it all really happened.  And they are ready for whatever is next.  They expect next to be the peaceable reign of Jesus.  They are ready to follow him to his throne, the throne he deserves.  Like most people, they ask questions they think they already know the answer to: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”  They ask because they hope the answer is “yes.”  They ask because it has been centuries of oppression and occupation.  They ask because if anyone can displace the brutal Roman rule of their time, it was the one whom not even death can defeat. 

 

And instead of a straight answer, Jesus leaves them.  Again.  And they just stand there. 

 

And while Jesus does not answer the kingdom question, he does leave them with some words concerning the future – but like always, even these words were hard to believe.

 

To a group of the eleven left-behind: confused, alarmed, and suddenly alone – again; To the disciples who had a history of missing the point and losing track of the breadcrumbs; To the followers who more often than not were stumbling along the way, Jesus says, “You WILL receive the power [of]…the Holy Spirit; and you WILL be my witnesses…to the ends of the earth.”  No should; no might; no maybe.  Will: just a four-letter word that is doing a lot of heavy lifting.  Every time Jesus spoke about the future, it came to pass.  But in that moment, for those disciples, it must have been hard to believe.

 

Jesus took a big risk on his way up, placing his mission in the hands of ordinary people, flawed folks.  The disciples had a spotty track record.  They did do a lot of good.  They left everything to follow Jesus.  But they also made some mistakes.  And got a lot wrong.  And were painfully human.  Forty days earlier, on Easter, they were locked up in a room.  And yet, Jesus chooses them to carry his witness and mission to the ends of the earth.  It was hard to believe.

 

And yet, once again, Jesus is right.  They did receive the power of the Holy Spirit.  The disciples looking up end up in the Upper Room and are set on fire by the Holy Spirit.  That happened on Pentecost, the occasion we celebrate next Sunday.  Pentecost was the beginning, but it was not the end.  The same Spirit kept moving.  And that same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead made a home in every believer – starting with those disciples, the disciples staring at the sky at the beginning of the book of Acts.

 

And with that Spirit pulsing through their veins, those first followers of Jesus, did witness to the Gospel – even at the ends of the earth.

 

But it was not just for the first generation of Christians, not just the ones looking up towards heaven in today’s passage from Acts.  They were just the beginning.  The “will” was for all of us.

 

It can be hard to believe, but Jesus knew about you too.  And chose you too.  The “wills” are for you too. 

 

The same Spirit that empowered the disciples at Pentecost is in you.  And that same Spirit will give you the words and witness to spread the Good News of Jesus everywhere you go – in here, out there, and even to the ends of the earth.