Pastor, Western Presbyterian Church
Washington, D.C.
May 24, 2009
Text: Acts 1:1-11
I am going to blame it on my wife. Four weeks ago, Phyllis started watching American Idol. Three weeks ago, I started watching, only because I didn’t want to make Phyllis think I don’t care about things that are important to her. You know the rest. By last Wednesday night, when the winner was announced, I was glued to the tube. And frankly, I am infuriated, outraged that Adam didn’t win!
The Protestant work ethic or Protestant something makes it impossible for me simply to watch and enjoy a great but inanely frivolous program. To justify watching such a program, I have to develop a convoluted rationale as to why it isn’t inane and frivolous; why it has some broad social meaning. It actually didn’t take me too long to develop such a rationale for watching American Idol.
We all think we are talented in some way or another. Many of us think our talent isn’t recognized by the world. And indeed, for many of us, it isn’t. As a result, we relate closely to the contestants who appear on American Idol. We relate to their dreams of success, their failures to achieve success, their fierce determination to succeed, their unwillingness to accept the cynical, caustic judgements of the Simon Cowell’s of this world who tell them they are losers (and how did they become judges over us in the first place? What have they even done?). All of which, of course, creates a direct line between American Idol and Jesus.
Our passage in Acts was intended to be read this past Thursday, a day called The Ascension of our Lord. But since most Presbyterian don’t do Ascension Day, I am using it today. It tells the story of Jesus’ final words to the disciples before he returned home to God.
The Disciples thought Jesus’ resurrection had signaled the beginning of the Last Days. The Last Days were supposed to be the time when the Messiah reestablished Israel to a place of preeminence among all nations. So when Jesus told them he was returning to God, they were a bit taken aback. “What about restoring the kingdom to Israel?” they asked, both perplexed and peeved. To them, it seemed as though he was leaving before his mission was accomplished.
Jesus’ response is important for all of us. He said, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that God has set by God’s own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth.” In other words, “God will give you the power you need to get the job done. So get to work and don’t worry about the time line. Leave the macro stuff to me.”
Are we not like the disciples? Have we not wondered when God was going to give us what God has promised to give us? I certainly have. I am confident most of you have as well.
God has promised us peace. And yet, many of us feel inner turmoil and all of us are surrounded by a world in extreme turmoil. God has promised us forgiveness. And yet, many of us don’t experience that forgiveness. We can’t seem to get rid of our guilt. God has promised us a life filled with meaning. And yet so much of what we do feels meaning-less. God has promised each of us a calling. And yet, some of us have little or no sense of what we should be doing. “And hey, God,” we ask, “is it really so unreasonable to have a clue, a hint, an intimation about the time line?”
I cite all of these issues because they are the questions people that bring into my office. Folks believe in God. They want to serve God. But they feel like they are working in the dark. They don’t know if their lives are directed in the right direction, if their efforts are fruitful or futile. And they want to know.
What used to amaze me about these conversations is that they are oftentimes with people who have great jobs, in great organizations or agencies, doing work most people would instantly recognize as highly productive and important. It no longer amazes me. The darkness hides a multitude of things, including an awareness of the ultimate or final value of our work, even in the most prestigious of jobs.
I remember a conversation with a fellow who had a highly placed position in the Carter White House. When he asked to talk to me, I assumed the conversation was going to be about an ethical or maybe a health problem. It wasn’t. It was a much bigger problem.
George said, “John, I have the job I always dreamed of having. I have worked since I was a little kid to get this job. I am doing incredible stuff. But I’m not sure it makes any difference. In two years, we’ll probably be out of office and to what end? What purpose will be all the hours I am pouring into this work, hours I am spending away from my family?” I have had electricians and teachers, social workers and lawyers ask me the same thing.
I have only one response, Jesus’ response. “It is not for (us) to know the times or periods that God has set….”
In life, we really have only one choice. We have to do what we think is right and trust God to make it fit into God’s plan. We may or may not live long enough to find out if we were right. But we have to trust and work, work and trust.
God has told us what to do. Furthermore, God has told us that if we do it, our efforts will help God redeem the world. However, none of us will live to see exactly how or where our piece of the puzzle fits into the bigger picture.
I have to say, there is a big part of me that really wishes Dick Cheney would focus on completing his memoirs. When he questions everyone and anyone who challenges the torture strategy of the Bush administration by calling such questions “phony moralism,” it is just plain insulting. The questions being asked today are precisely the questions that need to be asked. In fact, they should have been asked over the past eight years. Thank God they are being asked this year.
However, on the other hand, I am really glad Mr. Cheney is sticking to his position. This is an issue that needs to be resolved. The debate between President Obama and former Vice President Cheney is over a classic moral choice. Their respective positions have to do with two distinctly different ways of working in the dark.
I would reduce the two positions to this. We can do whatever it takes/whatever is necessary to accomplish whatever it is we seek. Or, we can work within some kind of societally agreed upon moral/ethical framework to accomplish our goals.
Fact of the matter is, very often, we live and work in the dark. In the case of the torture debate, working in the darkness is more frightening because there are some dangerous people out there in the shadows. They want to harm, even kill us. So we have to defend ourselves.
However, as we work in the dark, Jesus teaches us an absolutely essential truth: the manner in which we defend ourselves will determine whether there is anything worth defending left. The manner in which we work determines what we produce. The ends do not justify the means because the means can predestine certain ends.
And God has been perfectly clear about how we do our work in the dark. Jesus didn’t lift the darkness. He brought a light into the darkness and told us how to maneuver in the darkness.
Criticizing waterboarding, seeking to find different ways to gather intelligence is not “phony moralizing.” It is moral thinking. In a world of grays, it refuses to choose a white or black solution. Instead, moral reasoning seeks to live in ways consistent with the way all the world’s major religions have taught us God wants us to live.
It doesn’t even matter that some of the tactics authorized by the Bush administration were less effective than more humane methods of interrogation. For that applies the wrong standard. God doesn’t ask us to what is effective. God asks us to do what is morally sound.
In like manner, in our homes and workplaces, the criteria for success isn’t what works or whether or not something will hold up in a court of law. The criteria are God’s teachings. As Christians, we are concerned with whether or not our actions are consistent with God’s law.
When we spend less time with our loves ones than we can or cut ethical corners in the workplace, no one may ever know. After all, we are working in the dark. The darkness covers a multitude of sins. But God will know.
Just as importantly, we know. We know what we are doing. There is nothing more corrosive to the human soul than to engage knowingly in immoral behavior. We can justify it, rationalize it, ignore it. But like a cancer at work in our body, it destroys us, one moral cell at a time.
The last part of the Acts chapter is one of my favorites. If I say that about a lot of different passages, it is because I am an unabashed fan of Scripture. So I have a lot of favorite parts. Granted, this particular story goes a little too far for us. It gets a bit too supernatural for our overly educated minds. But it is great.
Jesus is lifted up and disappears into the heavens. Hey, he had to get out of here somehow. It is the next part I love. The apostles are standing looking into the heavens. A couple of those guys in white robes pop up again and say, “Why are you staring into the heavens?” They didn’t have to say the rest, “Why don’t you get to work?”
For two thousand years, too many Christians have stood and stared into the heavens, amazed at what God has done in Jesus, totally missing what God wants to do through us. We have prayed and lit incense, built huge cathedrals and monasteries. We have written gorgeous music and magnificent sermons. All of this is well and good.
But ultimately God does not want us staring into the heavens. God wants us working the darkness, continuing the work Abraham and Sarah began, Miriam, Mary and Jesus continued—moving to strange lands and transforming them into Promised Lands, finding our way out of deserts where each way seems the same as the other way, working through the consequences of our sinfulness, saying, “I will your command, God” when the easy thing to say it “Heil Hitler.”
On this Memorial Day weekend, we remember the millions of people who have laid down their lives so we can enjoy the freedoms and life we enjoy. They ask no thanks. But thank them we must.
One of the things the military does well is train people, create discipline so they will follow orders in the midst of absolute insanity. When the chain of command evaporates and friends are dying beside them, enemies are closing in on them, they are hungry, tired, wanting only to go home to mom, the soldier is asked, no, expected to do what the soldier is trained to do. It is the only way to achieve victory.
So it is with God. God’s chain of command breaks down all the time. Actually, it broke down way back there in the Garden of Eden. And when the chain of command breaks down, every person has to do what they know they are supposed to do.
We will always wonder whether we are doing the right thing. We will wonder if what we are doing is meaningful or meaningless. We will wonder if we should be doing something else.
But in the darkness, we must continue to do God’s work. We have to find a way, God’s Way.
Let us pray: Gracious God, create within our hearts a profound trust in your Providence. As you guide the world to its appointed end, may we do our part in helping you to get it there. All this we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.