Acts 1:6-14

7 Easter / Year A

4 May 2008

Preached by the Rev. David Fredrickson

Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles, begins this story of the young church pretty much where he ended his gospel account, with Jesus ascending into the heavenly realm. Luke’s account of the ascension is by far the most detailed and he appears to be the only New Testament writer for whom the event has any real significance.

“…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." When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.” As I said on Thursday evening at the Ascension Day Evening Prayer service, this event marked a new beginning for the disciples. For the first time since they met Jesus, his disciples were without his physical presence. They could no longer look at him, talk to him in the same way, or hear his voice. Jesus promised the power of the Holy Spirit to each and every one of them in his absence, but faith would be required from this point forward if they were to continue to teach and heal and proclaim the good news they had experienced in the physical presence of Jesus himself. But that is what they were asked to do. By extension, as his disciples, that is what we have been asked to do.

Matthew records Jesus’ last words in this way, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Luke and Matthew record Jesus’ last words in very nearly the same way; “Be empowered and go and witness to everyone you can find.”

Modern Anglicans have a hard time with these last words of Jesus. The Anglican Church became the be the third largest tradition in the world, not so much through missionary activity, though that was an important component in the eighteenth, nineteenth and early twentieth century, but rather through British colonialism and the cultural imperialism that went along with it. Wherever the British Empire raised the flag, the Church of England followed. Though some might disagree, In much of the Anglican world, it was all too apparent that the power of the sword was more persuasive than the power of the Holy Spirit and the witness of Jesus Christ became associated with the values of empire.

You and I live in an empire, a Christian one at that, an empire that some would argue is waning. Modernity is long past whether we like it or not. You and I now live within the confines of post modern world and all that entails, intellectually, politically, and culturally. Yet the good news of Jesus is no less relevant today than it ever was. Hate, fear, anger, pain, despair, and death are as much a part of our world as they ever have been. We can all try to run and hide, but you know as well as I do that we really can’t. Though we like to think it is true, we are not self sufficient, we need to know that that Creator of the universe loves us and empowers us to live this life with peace and dignity.

I want to read a story to you this morning about a broken man whose life was changed because he was witnessed to by someone who knew the power of the Holy Spirit and the abundance of love that Jesus has for all humanity. The story is found in the Trinity News, a magazine put out by Trinity Church Wall Street and it is entitled” “Enter My World, A Letter from Prison” by Daniel Marquez.

My name is Daniel Marquez. On March 24, 2001, I was arrested for multiple counts of armed robbery. I am not innocent. I deserve every bit of the 12-year sentence that was given to me. I often sit in my cell and interrogate my past. It helps me discover things. I’ve noticed that my rebellious attitude ultimately streamed from my own selfish and arrogant worldview. I wanted to feel like the most loved child in the family. I never felt that way. When my biological mother thought I was old enough, she revealed to me that my biological parents abandoned me. That was a heavy blow. I was so angry, so confused. It was from that moment on that I sought love elsewhere: the streets. I embraced the streets and made her my home…. The home she provided was the corner of 136^th Street and Willis Avenue in the Bronx. Ralphy’s Bodega was my kitchen. The benches outside P.S.154 became my bedroom…. When I first entered the prison system, I had no direction or purpose in life. I lived in prison with the same attitude and instincts that helped me survive on the streets. Not for long, though. When I was forced to stay in my cell for an eighteen-hour lockdown, I began to think soberly and consciously for the first time in a long time. I was not used to this. God injected my mind with one memory that changed my life forever. It was the memory of a victim that I robbed. He was well-dressed and seemed to be on his way to a party. I aggressively approached him, l put a gun to his face and demanded his money. He resisted and I began to pistol-whip him. After I stopped hitting him, he stepped away and looked directly into my eyes and told me something I will never forget: “May God bless you.” As I sat in my cell my eyes began to water. The man’s words rotated relentlessly in my mind: “May God bless you, may God bless you.” To think that I treated him so brutally, and that he spoke so graciously to me, ate me alive. I groaned and groaned, “I’m sorry God, I’M SORRY!” My cries saturated the cell block housing area. Everyone was hearing me and I didn’t care. When the tears stopped flowing, I felt relief, I felt forgiven. This man spoke life into my corpse. Now I realize that I had an encounter with God. [He goes on to say] I am being equipped, both mentally and spiritually, to impact the world from Christ, just as intensely as that faithful servant of God impacted my life with four simple words. May God bless you. ⁱ

What does Jesus mean to you? Can you talk about it, can you share with someone who needs to hear good news, someone who needs to know that they are loved. If we find that we can’t share our story of Jesus with others, we really must get to the bottom of that. It is time to probe inside and pray about the fear and the discomfort and the barriers. People across the street, around the corner, on the other side of town are starving to hear about Jesus.