Great Big World

This sermon was delivered at Union Congregational United Church of Christ in Moline, Illinois on May 28, 2017. The scripture for this sermon is Acts 1:6-14.

The disciples keep losing Jesus.

A little over six weeks ago, Christians around the world told a story. A passover supper. A betrayal for thirty pieces of silver. A prayer in a garden: “Remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” A crowd, a kiss, and men with swords. A denial: “Woman, I do not know him.” A trial. A sentence. A cross. A tomb.

A little over six weeks ago, Christians around the world told a story about the disciples’ expectations being thrown out the window, about their hopes being dashed. Jesus was supposed to be Messiah, the new King of Israel, the savior of their nation. But there he was, hung on a cross, laid in a grave.

The disciples keep losing Jesus.

Exactly six weeks ago, Christians around the world told the other part of that story. A tomb. An angel. A message: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here. He has risen.” A strange encounter on the road to Emmaus. A meeting in a house. Signs and wonders.

Exactly six weeks ago, Christians around the world told the other part of that story, about the disciples’ expectations being restored, about their hopes springing back to life. The Messiah, the new King of Israel, the savior of their nation was resurrected. Here he was. Surely, now, he would do what the knew every prophecy foretold.

The disciples keep losing Jesus.

And now we’re here, in this moment.

“Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”

“It is not for you to know,” says Jesus, “the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. Power will come. You will be witnesses.”

And he is lifted up, and a cloud passes by, and he is gone.

Now, the disciples have never been the sharpest knives in the drawer. They’re going to stand there for a minute, looking up at heaven, dumbfounded. But the question that they asked matters. It’s an important question. It’s a powerful question.

“Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”

The disciples are standing in front of the Messiah who has been raised from the dead. They are standing in front of the Son of Man who will judge the nations. They are standing in front of the Son of the God who is the father of orphans and protector of widows, who gives the desolate a home to live in and leads the prisoners to prosperity. And the question they ask is, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”

The disciples were small… and they had small imaginations.

Now, small things aren’t bad. Small things are important. Small things are powerful. God uses small things: a lost coin, a mustard seed, a few loaves and a few fish… us. Small things matter.

And small people with small imaginations are the first part of so many of our stories.

When Abraham was 99 years old, God appeared to him. And God told Abraham that Abraham and his wife, Sarah, would have a son. And Sarah laughed. “After I have grown old,” she said, “and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” She had a small imagination. But the story went on.

When the Israelites were leaving Egypt and arrived at the Red Sea with Pharaoh and his armies on their heels, they complained to Moses. “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt,” they said, “that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness?” They had small imaginations. But the story went on.

When God spoke to Jonah, he told him to go and preach to the city of Nineveh. And Jonah ran away. He had to be thrown off a boat and swallowed by a fish and spit out on dry land before he would do what God wanted. Because he didn’t want the people of Nineveh to repent and he didn’t want God to forgive. “That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning,” he said, “for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.” He had a small imagination. But the story went on.

And when the disciples are standing in front of Jesus, they most they can imagine is that he is the savior and restorer and king of Israel. They have small imaginations.

They are no different from us.

Right now, there are billions of people around the world who are living in poverty. Right now, there are hundreds of millions of people around the world who are living in chronic hunger. Right now, there are millions of people around the world who are living without anyplace to safe to stay. And there are so many more who are on the edge of poverty or who don’t have quite enough to eat or who live in substandard housing.

There are a lot of problems to solve. And they’re all solvable.

Right now, there is someone dreaming of heaven… and it’s being able to pay a doctor’s bill. And that’s a problem we could solve.

Right now, there is someone dreaming of heaven… and it’s feeling full for the first time since they can’t remember when. And that’s a problem we could solve.

Right now, there is someone dreaming of heaven… and it’s a warm place to sleep for just one night. And that’s a problem we could solve.

We are small, and we have small imaginations. And those small things that so many people want are important. They are powerful. They matter.

Our heavens are so small we could make them right here, right now. And for some reason, that I have never really understood, we don’t.

But God is not small. God is the father of orphans and protector of widows; all of the orphans and all of the widows. God gives the desolate a home to live in and leads the prisoners to prosperity; all of the desolate and all of the prisoners. God pours down rain in abundance and provides for the needy. All of the needy. Every. Single. One of us.

God dreams of a world where no one worries about paying bills. God dreams of a world where food overflows a table, rich food and well-aged wines. God dreams of a world where everyone has a place to live in comfort. God dreams of a world of abundance and generosity and wholeness. God dreams of a world of shalom.

We are small, and we have small imaginations. God is big, and imagines a world that we cannot imagine. My little heaven — where everyone has enough money and food and housing and all of these pesky little problems are solved — pales in comparison. I am small and I have a small heaven. God is big, and imagines a great big world.

And that brings us back to the disciples.

The disciples are small, and they have a small heaven. So they ask, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom of Israel?”

“It is not for you to know,” says Jesus, “the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. Power will come. You will be witnesses.”

And he is lifted up, and a cloud passes by, and he is gone.

And the disciples stand there, for a minute, looking up at heaven, dumbfounded. But that is only the first part of the story.

Because suddenly there are two men next to them. And the men say to them, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Now, the story continues next week. There will be tongues of fire and people hearing the good news in their own languages and rumors of new wine. So come back next week… it’s just getting good.

For now, though, listen to these men. We spend so much time looking up at our little heavens. And those heavens are important. They are powerful. They matter.

But these men don’t tell the disciples that one day, they’ll be taken up into heaven with Jesus. They say that Jesus will come out of heaven and back to the world. And the good news is that Jesus isn’t bringing our little heaven with him. Jesus is bringing God’s great big world — a world of abundance and generosity and wholeness, a world of shalom — with him. And our little heavens pale in comparison.

Thank God.