I have this way of beginning sermons by saying, "This is one of my favorite passages." I mean it, but given the number of times I've said it, I have a lot of favorite passages. So I probably need to do some remedial work on what favorite means. Moving forward however, this coming Sunday, June 1, the lectionary takes us to Acts 1:1-11.
It's one of my favorite passages.
This favorite passage is found in Acts which may be my favorite book in Scripture. It's dynamic, absolutely full of energy and risk and adventure. The early church is birthed and then it is off and growing, here, there and everywhere. And it all begins with these first verses of the first chapter. Jesus makes his farewell remarks to the disciples and then he is off - ascended to heaven. Picture that however you will. I'm always caught with an image of the now eleven disciples looking skyward kind of wistfully. They know they should probably do something, go somewhere, move along, but, for sure you would want to stand there and linger in that moment another moment or several. But there are these two men in white robes (hospital orderlies? angels?) who pose this question to them: "Why are you standing here, looking toward heaven?"
On the one hand there is an easy answer. They are there staring at heaven because Jesus just now went that way and after everything they had been through in the past three years, shoot,in the past three months, excuse them if they want to have a good long look before moving on.
On the other hand there is the reality they know they've been gotcha'd again. It's almost like Jesus is still right there. He leaves them to carry out his work and they stand frozen in time watching the skies, maybe hoping that Jesus will come back into view...and then this voice is poking into their reality - "Why are you standing here, looking toward heaven?" Will we ever get this right? Perhaps that was the thought running through their minds as they left that spot behind.
Two things.
First, it may be a bit counterintuitive to make this the point, but I feel like we could stand some time looking at the sky. We have this belief that Christ will return. What will that look like? I have not a clue, but I believe it. Christ will come again. And in some way I have to think there is a value in a spiritual discipline of occasionally looking expectantly at the sky. You can really go and look at the sky or do it in some figurative way, but our hope is built around that whole coming again notion and being expectant might help us feel a little less like we have been left to hash this thing out on our own. If anyone has ever felt that way.
Second, this is a great story about getting moving. We can't stay in the comfortable, safe, secure, easy place forever. Maybe we can never stay there. The thing is we have to get off the hill and get busy. The disciples figured that out - in a big way. Our calling is not to faithfully gather weekly on the hill to see if anything has happened and check in with each other. Our calling is to move along. Move into the world. Wherever our world takes us, wherever the Spirit leads us, there we are to go. And all that dynamic energy stuff that comes in the rest of the book of Acts - that's the life we are called to - vibrant, breathtaking service sharing the good news that death didn't win, that life abundant is possible.
Move along say the men in the white robes...move along.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
Time To Write This Again
This blog can go dormant for stretches of time, but inevitably there is a moment when my children grow older that draws me back...
Cameron has just finished his sophomore year at Western Kentucky University. Last year he interned at the Lexington Herald-Leader over the summer. He lived in Lexington for the ten weeks, but Lexington is right there. An hour and fifteen minutes or so away. This summer he is interning at the Tampa Bay Times. The Tampa Bay Times is housed in a building in St. Petersburg, Florida. That is and hour and 15 minutes times about ten away.
We packed Cameron's stuff into his car and he and I left for St. Petersburg on Saturday. Stopped in Knoxville at a friends house Saturday night and then drove all day Sunday, rolling into St. Petersburg around 10:30 p.m. I don't pick up the rental car and come home till tomorrow (Tuesday morning), so Monday morning I took Cameron to the Times building for his first day. Dropped him off at 9:00 for a 9:15 start. And then I got sent packing - it's not a good thing to be seen getting dropped off by your dad for your summer college internship. I get that.
Spent the day driving all over the place. Scouting out where the grocery stores are, where the Kia dealership is (in case there is any service required), where the Wal-Marts are - that sort of thing. So I could report back on all these things if any of them came up. Unnecessary stuff really, they have computers here with search engines and Cameron is armed with a smart phone and a good deal of intelligence. He's got this.
So the end of the first work day comes and Cameron says where should I meet you and then he suggests the Starbucks where we stopped this morning and I agree. As I arrive at the Starbucks my phone rings. It's Cameron.
"Where are you?" he asks.
"I'm at Starbucks. Where are you?"
"I don't know."
"Okay. Is there a street sign?"
"Yes. Central."
"Okay. Is there another street sign?"
"Sixth."
And right here is the moment. I know what he has done. He's walked a couple of blocks in the wrong direction. He's been in that building all day and got turned around. Easy to do. Except I don't want him to ever have that happen. And I always want to be able to correct the situation. But that cannot be. Your sons have to grow up and they have to go to college and they have got do summer internships and eventually live their very own lives on their very own.
But not today. Not totally.
"Stay there. I'll be right there." I know where he is. I've been driving around all day. I know exactly where he is. And so I drive there. And there he is. There is my boy, waiting for me. Trusting me. And he comes to the car and gets in.
And so yes, tomorrow I'll get in the rental car and I'll drive back to Kentucky. And over the next twelve weeks he'll have amazing experiences and probably get lost a few times and grow up some more. My role is not what it was.
But sometimes it is. Sometimes when he doesn't know where he is, maybe I will. And when I do, I will be there. Just as long as this honor of being dad is mine.
Cameron has just finished his sophomore year at Western Kentucky University. Last year he interned at the Lexington Herald-Leader over the summer. He lived in Lexington for the ten weeks, but Lexington is right there. An hour and fifteen minutes or so away. This summer he is interning at the Tampa Bay Times. The Tampa Bay Times is housed in a building in St. Petersburg, Florida. That is and hour and 15 minutes times about ten away.
We packed Cameron's stuff into his car and he and I left for St. Petersburg on Saturday. Stopped in Knoxville at a friends house Saturday night and then drove all day Sunday, rolling into St. Petersburg around 10:30 p.m. I don't pick up the rental car and come home till tomorrow (Tuesday morning), so Monday morning I took Cameron to the Times building for his first day. Dropped him off at 9:00 for a 9:15 start. And then I got sent packing - it's not a good thing to be seen getting dropped off by your dad for your summer college internship. I get that.
Spent the day driving all over the place. Scouting out where the grocery stores are, where the Kia dealership is (in case there is any service required), where the Wal-Marts are - that sort of thing. So I could report back on all these things if any of them came up. Unnecessary stuff really, they have computers here with search engines and Cameron is armed with a smart phone and a good deal of intelligence. He's got this.
So the end of the first work day comes and Cameron says where should I meet you and then he suggests the Starbucks where we stopped this morning and I agree. As I arrive at the Starbucks my phone rings. It's Cameron.
"Where are you?" he asks.
"I'm at Starbucks. Where are you?"
"I don't know."
"Okay. Is there a street sign?"
"Yes. Central."
"Okay. Is there another street sign?"
"Sixth."
And right here is the moment. I know what he has done. He's walked a couple of blocks in the wrong direction. He's been in that building all day and got turned around. Easy to do. Except I don't want him to ever have that happen. And I always want to be able to correct the situation. But that cannot be. Your sons have to grow up and they have to go to college and they have got do summer internships and eventually live their very own lives on their very own.
But not today. Not totally.
"Stay there. I'll be right there." I know where he is. I've been driving around all day. I know exactly where he is. And so I drive there. And there he is. There is my boy, waiting for me. Trusting me. And he comes to the car and gets in.
And so yes, tomorrow I'll get in the rental car and I'll drive back to Kentucky. And over the next twelve weeks he'll have amazing experiences and probably get lost a few times and grow up some more. My role is not what it was.
But sometimes it is. Sometimes when he doesn't know where he is, maybe I will. And when I do, I will be there. Just as long as this honor of being dad is mine.
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