Easter 7 Year A

This morning’s first two readings offer a stark contrast of imagery. The reading from Acts portrays something of the mystery of faith – the Ascension which we celebrated on Thursday. … as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.

Set that alongside the Epistle which contains a stern and rather vivid warning: Discipline yourselves; keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around...

Two very different and equally powerful visual images. One that is about something loud and scary, and the other depicting something quietly dramatic, something with soft edges – clouds and disappearing feet – incomprehensible but somewhat intriguing. One reading points us towards the mystery of God, all that is at the heart of who we are as a community, all that defines the heart of our faith, and the other points us towards all that tempts us away from God, tempts us towards that which gets in the way of trust and belief and our connection with God.


The Ascension reminds us of the mystery that is at the heart of who we are as a community, the truth that we eventually reach a place on our journey of faith where our connection and understanding comes not from our heads but our hearts. It’s a festival that is completely counter cultural. It makes no rational sense. The narrative is filled with imagery and suggestion, and simply requires us to go with it, to let go and trust in the truth that is at the heart of all that God is and all that we might become.

Our contemporary culture doesn’t have a lot of truck with that which it can’t quantify. We’re not very good at maybes. As communities, we seem to be on the hunt for certainties. In general, we don’t seem to mind whether the issues and ideas we latch onto are positive or negative so long as there is something definite about them. It seems to me that we are actually bombarded by an awful lot of negativity. There are numerous groups and organisations that are keen to tell us what they are against. Often, it’s something that any thinking person would agree was a bad idea. But they are not always quite so quick to tell us what they are for or how change might manifest.

I long for them to tell us where the room is for discourse and exploration. To create the space for listening to the views of others and perhaps even for modification of one’s own views. It’s very easy to go along with a group of people who are anti this or against that – there’s an energy in the anger that’s generated, in the collective sense that they, whoever they are, are wrong and we are right.

And that latching onto negative energy is, I think, some of what we are being warned to watch out for. Keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls about. There’s a lot of noise around the negativity that is shared. A lot of attention is gained. We see that really clearly in the causes and areas of national and international life that attract attention. And yet, there is so much more in the world that deserves our attention.

My, admittedly somewhat limited, experience of discerning that which is of God would suggest that God doesn’t shout. God doesn’t grab our attention with headlines or clever graphics. We hear and connect with God when we’re able to stop and pay attention to the things of God.
When we listen with our hearts rather than our heads.

We would be foolish to suggest that the world is so filled with the wonder of God that there is no room for anything that is not of God. Our lived experience serves to tell us otherwise. We don’t have to look far to see the outworking of evil in the world. The dehumanization of others. The devaluing of human life. The naked ambition that drives decision making.

And seeing all of that quite rightly makes people upset and angry. People see the injustice and they want to challenge, want things to change. That is an almost universally shared ambition. But is it achieved by making a lot of noise? Is it achieved by building on shared negativity and a shared enemy? I doubt it to be honest, and I think that our Scripture supports that view. So what can we do?

This week we are collecting in our Christian Aid envelopes and remembering the work of Christian Aid in our prayers. I suggest that Christian Aid is to be commended for the quiet way that it goes about its work.
The quiet way that it serves communities that are not at the forefront of activist attention. Communities where relatively small amounts of input and funding make a significant difference on the ground. Communities where lives are being changed in positive ways.

Christian Aid is a charity that is supported by churches across our nations. A charity that has survived significant change in the world around it. A charity that doesn’t necessarily make a lot of noise about what it is doing but which nonetheless goes about the work of furthering the coming of God’s kingdom.

One of the features of Christian Aid is that alongside its support for the headline grabbing disaster areas of the world, it seeks out the situations in unreported parts of the world where people’s lives can be changed. They do amazing work in Kenya and Sierra Leone. In Burkina Faso, Ethiopia, Malawi, Haiti and Nicaragua, to name just some of the places that may not make headlines, but where people live in situations that we can’t imagine. Places where their intervention brings fundamental change.
Change that comes not through emergency aid, however important that is, but through systematic societal change. Through grassroots projects that begin to challenge ingrained ideas and practices. Projects that help people to identify and engage with God’s will for them. Projects that seek to encourage dialogue and interaction and an honest recognition of difference. Projects that dare to acknowledge that we will never all agree. That conflicting priorities can co-exist. That what we have in common is always more than what separates us. That making enemies is never a solution – regardless of the problem.

Christian Aid is one of the charities that focusses on resourcing communities to support themselves; that genuinely understands that the kingdom of heaven is for all people – not those who consider themselves worthy. That we build the kingdom step by step in many places and many different ways.

And that, I think, is something of the essence of Ascension. Heaven isn’t an ambition for those who have lived good Christian lives, it’s a destination for all of God’s people. One day we too will be with Christ in paradise.