Thinking Cosmically, acting Locally

Ascension Sunday
Trinity United Church of Christ, Deerfield
Kent M. Organ, Interim Pastor
Texts: Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53


Thinking Cosmically and Acting Locally

    A cat was once chasing a mouse.  The mouse ran into a hole in the wall, just escaping the claws of the cat.  Everything was quiet for a while.  Then the mouse heard the sound of a dog barking.  “Woof, woof!”  And then  nothing.  Assuming the dog had chased the cat away, the mouse popped out of the hole,  and the cat  pounced on it.  As the cat swallowed the mouse, it was heard to say,  “It pays to be  bilingual.”

    This is true.  You’re handicapped in this world  if you aren’t bilingual. Being  bilingual  also helps  in reading the Bible.  A lot of us have trouble with the Bible  because  we hear it  with 21st century ears,  not  1st century ears.

    Take  the story of the Ascension, for instance. To our ears, the Ascension story sounds like highly doubtful  aeronautics,  or astrophysics, or something like that.  It sounds like  somebody is being transported into space – which makes no sense  given what we know about the laws that run the universe.  That’s especially true  of the description we just heard in Luke,  in which  Jesus went up a hill, outside Jerusalem,  a primitive launching site,  where he lifted up his hands in blessing over the disciples,  and  was propelled into heaven.  The disciples gathered around, looking up,  watching Jesus get  smaller and smaller  until he disappears.

    To see it that way  is to pose the Ascension as  a  scientific absurdity,  an affront to our intelligence.  That’s the way it generally comes across  in our time  

    Which is why  you need to be  bilingual.  In the 1st century,  the story was heard differently.  It wasn’t a physical miracle – certainly not  aeronautics – it was  a political  manifesto.

    Listen again to the Ephesians passage.  I’ll pick it up in the middle, where it says God has raised Jesus “…from the dead  and seated him at [God’s] right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above  every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.  And [God] has put all things under his feet  and has made  him  the head over all things…”

   That’s the Ascension.  It says  Jesus is now  Lord over all things.  Which is to say,   Caesar  isn’t.  To make such a statement  in the Roman Empire  was an act of political courage, with terrible consequences.  

* * * *

In the second century,  a bishop of the Church named Polycarp  was arrested on charges of treason.  This happened in 156 A.D. in Asia Minor.  Polycarp was the Bishop of Smyrna.  The charge against him was  that he  dared to declare  not only  that Jesus Christ is Lord  but also  that the Emperor was not.  Polycarp was found guilty,  and burned at the stake.

    The man who sentenced him  was named Statius Quadratus, Proconsul for the Empire in Asia Minor.  When Statius Quadratus asked Polycarp, “Will you renounce your faith in Jesus?”  he replied,  “For all these years Jesus has never abandoned me,  and I will not abandon him  now.”  After his death  the Christians in Smyrna  posted this:  “Statius Quadratus, Proconsul of Rome;  Jesus Christ, King Forever.”

    Now, the Church  didn’t rush into  martyrdom.  They tried to accommodate themselves to the world around them.  That’s the message you get  when you read the letters in the back of the New Testament,  including  the Letter to the Ephesians.  The letters say,  Be good citizens.  Don’t cause trouble.  Obey those  who are in power.  Unfortunately, you find passages  that add  specifically,  Wives, obey your husbands,  and, Slaves,  obey your masters.  They didn’t want to make changes.  Didn’t want to upset things.  

    But the fact was  they were upsetting things.  Maybe  that’s why the accommodating advice was given.  They were upsetting things – because  if Jesus is my Lord,  then Caesar  isn’t.  And neither is some oppressive husband  who lords it over me.  Nor  any slaveholder.  To say  “Jesus is Lord”  has political and social implications.  If Jesus is Lord,  then I am slave  to nobody.  I am free,  a person of dignity.

    So why  this advice to the churches  to be obedient  to the powers that be?  It’s probably  because they believed Jesus was coming soon  to change all these things.  He’ll change them,  so for now, just hang in there.  Put up  with oppression.  Come to church.  Where you’ll be treated  the way Jesus  wants you to be treated.  But outside  in the world,  be patient.  It won’t be much longer now.

    But  by Polycarp’s time, the second century – in fact, before that – they began to say,  Maybe, maybe,  Jesus  is not coming right away.  Maybe what we are waiting for him  to come and do,  he  is waiting  for us to do.

    If Jesus  is  Lord…  he is  at the right hand of God,  “above all rule and authority and power and dominion… above  every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.  And [God] has put all things under his feet…”  If that is the case,  then the world  has to change  and look  like  Jesus is Lord.  

    It took a while  for the Church to understand this.  Maybe they asked themselves, Why all this power  ascribed to him?  He doesn’t need all that power  to solve the problems in my life.  All that power  must be  for something bigger and greater  in this world.  He’s been given power over everything that is,  so that everything that is  will be his.  And we  are the Church  over which he is Lord,  so we are supposed to do  the changing  in his name.  We need to do something  to make this world look  more  like  he is Lord.

    In other words, “Think  cosmically… act  locally.”  That’s what the Ascension means.  Think of Jesus  as Lord of the universe, the cosmos,  with all  authority, all dominion  belonging to him.  Think on that.  And then,  act on that.

    So, what would it look like  if we acted on that?

    In churches I have served, I have sometimes asked prospective new members, What in the world especially grieves us,  brings us pain?  What do you want to change?  And they have talked  about  homelessness and poverty,  racism,  hunger,  the abuse and neglect of children,  environmental degradation.  And we’d stay with it, asking  how together  we might address  one or more of these challenges.  I’ve seen some remarkable initiatives  have come out of such conversations:  a transitional homeless shelter for women and children in Tucson,  an inter-racial, inter-religious community organization in Cleveland,  a computer recycling project for low income people in Ames.  

    Some of you have found ways  to act effectively  in this community.  The Gleaning Project with the Deerfield Farmers Market is an ongoing effort. But what else? What now? Especially, as  in a time of transition  we are wondering,  What that is special  might we be – become – in  and for this community?  What might it mean – in this time, in our time and place – to follow  the Lordship of Jesus Christ?

* * * *

    Today’s epistle lesson  was written to the church in Ephesus.  Ephesus is a Greek city on the Mediterranean.  It was the center of the worship of the goddess Artemis.  She was the goddess of fertility, the goddess of agriculture.  A cult grew up around her temple in Ephesus, where thousands of people would come to worship.  The city of Ephesus thrived  because of the tourist trade.

    The Apostle Paul came to Ephesus.  He came, preaching that Jesus Christ is Lord.  And people began to change.  They said, If Jesus Christ is Lord, then Artemis is not.  The business leaders saw Paul as a threat.  They denounced him, and organized a riot to kill him.  Although he escaped.

    In the Book of Acts, chapter 19, there’s a humorous story about some sorcerers and exorcists in Ephesus  who saw Paul at work  and admired the power he seemed to have.  They wanted it for themselves.  So they used Paul’s name to exorcise a demon.  They said, “In the name of Jesus, and in the name of Paul, come out!”  The demon looked at the sorcerers incredulously, and said, “Jesus I know.  Paul I know.  But who are you?”

    Meaning what? – as we try to be  bilingual.  Meaning  that evil powers  know  who  is stronger than they are,  who can do them in.  Which is why, in the Gospels, the stories about Jesus,  all the demons recognize him.  Jesus  they know.  And Paul they know.  But who are you?

    In this town, in this region,  who are you?  Who knows you?  Who fears you?  Who is concerned that you might do something that would change things?  Who knows, or even cares,  that this church is here?  Who  wonders about  what would happen  if those Christians  would ever start  thinking cosmically,  and act  locally?

                    With thanks to Fred Craddock and Mark Trotter