On the church calendar, this is the Sunday of the Ascension, the day on which we celebrate the departure of the Risen Christ to the throne of God, to heaven. The actual day of the Ascension was Thursday this past week, forty days after the Resurrection.

Since we do not have a special Thursday service to honor this day, its emphasis is moved to the closest Sunday following. This is the last Sunday in this season of Eastertide-the season in which we have experienced the presence of the Resurrected Christ in our midst, and the Sunday before Pentecost-the season of the gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church. Ascension is not a very familiar day to most of us, but it leads us into some very interesting reflection on what we believe about God and heaven and our life here on this earth.

You heard the story as the writer of Luke/Acts records it. Forty days-always in the Bible a sign that something very significant is going on!-after forty days of being among the disciples, teaching about the Kingdom of God and the Holy Spirit that is to be given, the Resurrected Christ reiterates two things to them: that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes to them, and that they will be Christ's witnesses throughout the whole inhabited earth. And blessing them, while they are still watching he is lifted up in a cloud and is taken out of their sight to heaven. The disciples are left alone, standing there, looking up, mouths hanging open, no doubt, and two angels minister to them, saying that Christ will come again.

We're left with a funny picture here, that vision of those bereft disciples looking up in the direction their beloved Lord has gone, ears ringing with the angels' odd question: "why do you stand looking up toward heaven?" Well, of course that's where you'd look, we might think. We can answer that question in a couple of ways, and both are important for our lives of faith.

From a spiritual perspective, the reaction of the disciples is a reaction of deep faith. Out of love for Christ, their gaze follows him as he departs from them. Their eyes yearn to follow him, to not lose him from their sight, and so they are drawn upward into the realm of God's majesty and holiness beyond the reach of the human eye. Spiritually they turn to the throne of God, high and lifted up, surrounded by angels and archangels, and, like all who can no longer see the beloved, draw comfort from affirming his closeness to God.

But, where is that, we might ask, we who live in a thoroughly scientific age, benefiting from the extensive research of astronomers and physicists? Did you see those amazing photographs released recently from the restored Hubble Space Telescope? Photos of swirling energy and matter, of stars forming and galaxies colliding? Beautiful!

We who have been raised on telecasts of space launches, space stations and even movie fantasies of space colonies and far-off galaxies home to both friend and foe, we know a lot about space. We've been there. We've seen it. But, in all that vastness, we still wonder . . . just where is heaven? Is it up?

Sophisticated and knowledgeable as we are, we have learned that there really is no "up" in this universe. Right? Any direction you point, from any place on our spinning and orbiting planet Earth, might be called "up" or "down." So, where is heaven?

Maybe we think we're just smarter than the ancients. Most of us have seen those cosmologies of creation showing the flat earth poised somewhat precariously between hell below and heaven above.

Something of a three-story universe that now seems quaint and naive. Yet, the biblical account itself actually reveals something far more subtle. Our God created the heavens and the earth, it says, and is present in every part of this good creation. It tells us over and over again that God cannot be contained in the heavens, not even the highest heavens. Jesus himself told us, "The kingdom of God is-where? - within you." "Up," you see, in the biblical sense, is meant to point us not in any particular physical or geographical direction, but Godward, towards holy ways of being and living and believing.

The psalm for today, Psalm 68, makes this even more clear: God's holy habitation, call it "heaven," is the place from which God protects the vulnerable and the weak, the orphans and the widows, the desolate and the prisoners. "Blessed be the Lord," the psalmist sings, "who daily bears us up; God is our salvation." God's holy habitation-up, down, around, within, among, the heavens AND the earth-God's holy habitation is our salvation - a place of safety and righteousness and peace.

On Ascension Sunday, we come to see that the answer to the question "which way is 'up'?" or "where is heaven?" is, in fact, everywhere we look. Those first disciples got it wrong because they were tempted to look skyward, though Christ himself had always pointed them towards their neighbors. "Up" is the Godward direction, and the Godward direction always leads from where we are into the world and into the lives of people for whom Christ Jesus lived and died. The draw of the Ascension pulls us not upward and away from this very real life, but right into its heart and soul.

Even the artists of some of Europe's ancient cathedrals got it wrong sometimes. You know, all the art of those cathedrals-all the carving and painting and stained glass-was designed to tell the story of God and Christ to people who could not read words. But, in telling the story of Christ's life, they frequently depicted the Ascension at the pinnacle of a high arch or dome, and, looking up, the worshiper sees only the soles of Jesus' feet as he rises.

What we should see, instead, are the throngs of the faithful who seek his abiding presence and aid, those whom we are called to serve in his name. Jesus was not carried off to some cosmic five-star heavenly hotel. He is with God in his holy habitation, that is the place of safety, of healing, of righteousness, justice and peace for all who need and seek salvation.

On this Mother's Day 2002, as we give thanks for mothering love, nurturing support, courageous example, and hearty faith enduring from generation to generation, we in the churches have a special task this year. The trials and tribulations of the Catholic Church, so painfully and publicly examining its own complicity in the abuse of children and youth, must cause us all to rededicate ourselves to the safety and dignity of children. Starting in the home, we must provide opportunities for Parenting Education classes and special support for children in the foster care system. We must ensure that our own church provides Safe Sanctuary for children and youth, and I can assure you that in our Sunday School, youth program and Nursery School, we have policies and procedures in place to prevent abuse.

And I want you to know that our United Methodist bishops, as part of their meeting last week, spent several hours reviewing our denomination's policies which have been in place over the last twenty years, praying for victims, offenders and their families, and said, in part: "...violations of sacred trust, particularly child or sexual abuse, are devastating to those victimized and all persons affected. Further, these acts damage the integrity of the Church's witness . . . . we affirm our resolve to prevent and eradicate sexual abuse and misconduct in the Church. We reaffirm our commitment to compassion, justice and healing for those harmed."

Friends, together we must continue to work to make our homes, our neighborhoods, our schools, and our church extensions of God's holy habitation, where the vulnerable are safe, where the weak are sheltered, where the little ones learn only love and respect. Today, as we are given to understand that Christ is at home with God in his holy habitation, that place from which emanates salvation and righteousness, he gives us the power we need to do the work he leaves for us to do. "You will receive the power," he says, from the Holy Spirit. As the biblical scholar, Walter Brueggemann, puts it, this is holy power-"inscrutable, irresistible, power like the wind, power that gives energy, freedom, courage, authority, and healing, power to transform the world." We, the Church, are given God's holy power to make visible God's home, God's holy habitation, here-in our homes, our lives, and our world.

There's a story going around which may or may not be "true"-it really doesn't matter-of a mother comforting her little child, afraid of the dark. "Don't be afraid, honey," she says. "God is with you everywhere." To which the child replies, "But Mommy, I need somebody with skin on."

We are to be those somebodies with skin, helping every child to experience the safe and loving place of God's holy habitation, where they are indeed sheltered and nurtured, taught and raised up in love.

May God bless all those who mother, who parent and who teach. May God hold all priests and pastors, all teachers and counselors, all bishops and lay people, accountable to the highest standards of behavior and practice. May God cause us to do all that is needed so that all children might grow up in safety and peace. May God infuse us with power to love and to serve. May God this day open our eyes to see that we are already living in God's holy habitation and witness to his power and salvation in the whole inhabited earth. Amen.

NOTES

1. Proclamation 3 and 4, Series A, James A. Wharton and Walter Brueggemann.
2. The New York Times: May 3, 2002. "The Hubble Achievement."
3. Cathedral description from Homily Service, May 2002.
4. Council of Bishops' statement from UMNS, May 3, 2002.
5. Closing story quoted in Homiletics, May-June 2001.

© Patricia E. Farris, 2002. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.