Why do we stand looking up toward heaven?

“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.”

Acts 1:8

“And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”

John 17:11

The disciples were staring up into the sky as Jesus was probably becoming more and more distant. Either that, or perhaps they were staring at some spectacular show. Today, I think that a cloud coming down from heaven to take up a person would look like a tornado, if not a full-on wall of a cloud like a hurricane. Whatever it was, it was certainly spectacular. And yet, the disciples hear someone telling them not to just look up. The gospel account doesn’t say whether the men in white robes said anything else, and I am driven to believe just that. They didn’t need to say anything else. They already knew what needed to happen.

While Jesus was preaching to his disciples, he spoke about different ideas, pertaining especially towards people’s behavior towards one another. Jesus explained one of the most difficult concepts to define: how to love. However, Jesus did not just stand at the front talking and yelling and pointing fingers, gesturing, or jesting. Jesus acted. In fact, he called all of his students, all of those people who were giving him anything of an ear, to action.

As Jesus was being taken up into heaven, he continued to preach, reminding his students, “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” And so, just as students today might be distracted by the barrage of lights before them—Chromebooks, ebooks, educational games—the disciples stood, staring into the sky. And, two men in white robes reminded them not to keep staring.

Today, it can be tempting to look back on the good ol’ days. We might even be reminiscing on the times we could just walk around and go to any restaurant without any concern. We might remember being able to travel to any destination around the world. We might remember just being able to get together with a group of friends for a chat throughout the night. I do this quite often, especially when I wonder what I can even do to pass some of the time that isn’t just occupied by my anxiety to continue producing content (“stop wasting your potential for unfettered creativity” my brain tells me).

As the disciples saw their teacher, their mentor, their friend departing yet again, what did they do right after? I would imagine after being told not to stare into heaven, they thought about all the other things they were called to do: bring people from all over the world together under the Good News of Love. After that, all the teachings must have come back to them. All of the practice, the examples, the lessons, the sermons, the poetry, the discussions, the debates, the overturning of all that they thought they knew must have come back to them. And then, we get the beginnings of the Church.

As we continue in different states of quarantine/staying at home, we have to remind ourselves to look at what tasks lie before us. We have communities to maintain. We might be involved in different businesses that need to figure out how to continue onwards. We have our own debts to think about. We even have our own health to take care of—our physical health, our mental health, our spiritual health.

And yet, it is so easy to think back to the times before this pandemic, the time before this ongoing Lent. It’s easy to remember the “large stones and large buildings,” or the “great buildings,” we had in the past. I love my church, with the newly constructed hardwood floors, which added a wonderful boost to the nave’s acoustics. I love the piano which projects without me having to press hard on the keys. I love the cozy community we have, especially with how it feels when we are all together, singing, praying, talking, being. I remember going out to eat at any restaurant of my choosing, with nearly every cuisine represented (except Russian, for some reason). I remember the ease of just ordering food rather than having to struggle through another recipe, waiting for our grocery order to happen to have the right ‘essential’ for the day.

But what do we get from staring back at those glittering times? When we just sit and stare at the calendar, looking at how many days have gone by, how many birthdays, funerals, anniversaries, memorials, graduations, fasts, or ceremonies we have missed, what do we gain? As I think about all of this, it just makes me upset at the current situation and wish that everything were over. I dwell on all the negative rather than try to work with what I have.

One of my all-time favorite games to play is bridge, especially duplicate bridge. The reason why I especially enjoy duplicate bridge is because the rules of the game eliminate the amount of chance. In duplicate bridge, rounds are played in different tables, and each table eventually receives the exact same cards dealt as the other tables around. Therefore, each time I play, I am working on making the best of the cards I am dealt. Sometimes, the round requires me to win, and other times to lose. However, the final score is calculated by how well I won or how badly I lost.

Nobody that I know has asked for this pandemic to come through. Nobody that I know has asked to make many everyday physical interactions to be potentially life-threatening. But, we are living through this situation, and we need to deal with the cards that we have been dealt. The good thing is that we are not being judged by how well or how badly we win or lose. We just need to get through this thing. In order to live out this Good News of Love, we need to remember what we have learned. Jesus calls us to love God, love our neighbors, and love ourselves.

In this pandemic, much of this love for neighbors and self are intertwined. By practicing social distancing and proper sanitation procedures, we protect both ourselves and others from the risks of this disease. Of course, this means that we are spending much more time at home, and perhaps we are staying at home with other people. Our love for neighbors needs to be sincere. We need to give people the distance they need (think of the introverts), and we need to explain our own needs as well. We cannot just destroy our physical, mental, or spiritual health just for someone else to thrive. We need to balance things out.

Another thing we need to watch is our behavior online. As a kindergartener, I learned about how to act around others: no pushing or shoving, no yelling, use manners, among other things. And now, we need that same sort of attention online. As more and more people seek community through social media, especially those newer to the internet, we need to show love. We need to be true to others and (importantly) to ourselves. Perhaps we hear about the problems that a friend or acquaintance is going through. There, we need to listen (or read, probably). Just as we give our friends and acquaintances space to speak their truths, we need to offer that space. One of the difficult things might be on Facebook, where, especially in groups, people who write out more comments will be brought up to the top of the page, whereas a more reserved person might be drowned out. One way to overcome this algorithm is by limiting one’s commenting, or encouraging others to continue writing their comments. On the other side of this, we have to let people know when they are speaking in ways that are against our own being. We have to call out racism, homophobia, transphobia, and so many other forms of discrimination, for, unfortunately, the structures of discrimination are still alive and well on the internet.

When all of this is over (God willing), or at least when this is contained, we have to remember what Jesus calls us to do. We are called “to be witnesses…to the ends of the earth”. To be witnesses to this Gospel is also to “be one”. Jesus calls us time and again to love one another, to show compassion and mercy, to bring peace to the world, to pray for each other, to worship and break bread together.

One of the harshest things I have learned from being in this pandemic is that our world’s economies (or at least the ones connected in any way to that of the United States) are dependent upon something other than the well-being of human lives. In order for some food businesses to stay afloat, they have dumped tons of healthy crops. In order for other businesses to remain, they have laid off workers after workers, and they continue to demand more kickbacks from their governments. We still have the poor and the hungry with us.

Another issue is that we still have the evils of racism, classism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and so many other prejudices playing out in our communities. People are slaughtered day-in and day-out in the names of these ideologies, and we still have elected officials supporting them or playing things off as one-offs or flukes. Even in the middle of a pandemic, there are countless people without access to healthcare.

When we come out of this situation, we will still be tempted to look up into the sky at the romanticized image of our world we have created for ourselves. We will even have times when we will be staring rather than working on the problems that are all around us. But, our consistent devotion to God will be our wake-up call. That will be the tap on our shoulder.

Jesus gave us so many different resources to draw upon when he was on earth. He gave us ways to talk to strangers, to talk to loved ones, to debate with those who have different opinions, to resolve conflict, and to spurn change. Nothing was just left where it was. Jesus reminded his disciples to put everything they learned into practice. In our Gospels, we find that Jesus has sent out two large groups of people to preach. We find that Jesus fed more than one large crowd of people. We find that Jesus forgave sin after sin. We find that Jesus went deeper and deeper into the ‘over there,’ the ‘we don’t associate with them,’ the ‘I just don’t care.’

And so, we need to remember our calling that rings louder and louder each time we hear it. Slavery was abolished, but there was still indentured servitude and a nationwide institution founded on racism. The Civil Rights Act was passed, but we still have people murdered every day just for the color of their skin. The Supreme Court ordered same-sex marriage to be recognized across the country, but there is still rampant homophobia. Today, more and more rights are being taken away from trans people. Today, undocumented immigrants still struggle to make it in a world that seems to just want to push them out. Today, the poor are shoved aside during this pandemic, denied shelter and food when those two things are mounding up in an unforeseen surplus. Today, people are dying while politicians are playing everything off as some sort of hoax or plan to control those already in power and exercising control over the vulnerable. These are the reminders! These are our “men in white robes”!

As we remember the Ascension, let’s remember our calling, just as Jesus reminded all of us in the midst of ascending into heaven. We have communities to build, people to care for, a world to love. Let’s stop looking up and thinking back, and let’s look and think forward.