5/24/20 “Living with our Palms Up” by Nancy E. Petty
Living with our Palms Up
Acts 1:6-14
John F. Kennedy said, “Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly.” Of all the sacraments of my faith, the sacrament of failure is the one I cherish the most. Life’s most meaningful lessons, at least for me, have come to me through my failures—big ones and small ones; significant ones and others that might seem insignificant. Ironically, often the small failures are the ones that become the more significant life lessons.
I have shared with you before the story of trying to learn to play hand bells in a seminary class with our friend Michael Hawn. In convincing me to sign up for the 8:00 a.m. class, professor Hawn said to me, “Nancy, 8:00 a.m. classes are rough and I need some fun people in this class.” And besides, he added, “If you can count to 10 you can play hand bells.” I promise you I can count to 10 but to this day I am a colossal failure at ringing hand bells. The important life lesson here, for both student and professor: flattery only goes so far in life.
An earlier failure came in high school. My best friend talked me into trying out for the track team. She said, much like Michael, “It will be fun.” Now I was a pretty good athlete in my younger years, lettering in both basketball and softball in high school. But I was never a good runner, and I was at my best in team sports, not individual ones that are more typical of being on a track team. But wanting to please my friend I reluctantly agree. Knowing that it would be hard for me to excel on the track in individual competition, I tried out for one of the relay teams. One of those where you run with a baton in hand and pass it to the next person after running your leg of the race. Well, do you know how hard it is to pass and receive that baton when running a relay race? It’s hard. Very hard. Yeah, it looks simple; but it is anything but simple. In fact, it is very complicated. Olympic runners have lost races fumbling that moment of handing off the baton. The art of passing off the baton takes much skill as precision and masterful timing are critical. It was a skill that I failed miserably at. What makes it so complicated is that it is called a “blind” pass. The pass is to be done blindly with the one receiving not looking back. At the handoff, as the receiver, I constantly looked back which totally messed up the timing. Also, the receiver is to receive with their hand extended back and palm up. I had trouble with that part too. Much like when we are asked to sing and sway while singing a hymn. While I traveled with the track team, I never ran a relay race or any other race. I was the person that stood at the finish line ready to hand out water bottles and towels. The life lesson here: not everything is as simple as it looks.
In the liturgical calendar, this Sunday is celebrated as “Ascension Sunday,” marking the risen Jesus’ departure after 40 days of dwelling with the community of disciples after the resurrection. Luke’s account of this story in the book of Acts is another of those stories in the bible that is hard for us to relate to. Who among us has ever seen someone ascending into the heavens on a cloud? It is easy to get distracted by the mystery of this story: Did it really happen or not? Did Jesus really float up to heaven on a cloud? And then there are the two beings in white robes that suddenly appear and ask the disciples why they are looking up toward heaven? What an odd question given what had just happened. It must have been so confusing for those disciples. They were still trying to wrap their brains around resurrection and now comes the ascension – Jesus leaves again. How does one make sense of it all?
Maybe we make sense of it by not getting distracted by the things in the narrative that are supernatural, and focus on the meaning of the larger narrative. Let me illustrate this point with a couple current examples. Maybe we make sense of what’s happening in our world right now by not getting distracted by false claims of a drug that can cure COVID-19 and instead we focus on the inadequacy of our government to secure the resources needed to fight the virus. Maybe we make sense of what is going on in our nation right now by not getting distracted by a false narrative that the virus attacks black people more aggressively than others instead of calling out the real issues of poverty and income inequality. We tend to be a people so easily distracted by our prejudices and fears and insecurities that we often miss the larger meanings of life. If I can distract myself with what I don’t have, I miss the blessings of what I do have. If I can distract myself with the speck in someone’s eye, I don’t have to look at log in my own. You get the point.
So if the narrative of Jesus’ ascension is not really about a body mysteriously ascending into the heavens in a cloud, and if it’s not about two beings all dressed in white suddenly appearing and speaking, then what is it about? The answer is simple, and yet profoundly demanding. The meaning of Jesus’ ascension, simply put, is the “passing of the baton.” The biblical story repeats this message over and over, again and again. God passes the baton to Moses. Moses passes the baton to Miriam. God passes the baton to Deborah and Ruth and Esther and those subversive midwives. Isaiah passes the baton to Huldah. Elijah passes the baton to Elisha. David passed the baton to Solomon. Jesus passes the baton to Martha and Mary and Mary Magdalene and to Peter, James, John, Matthew, Thomas and all those other early disciples. But the baton passing doesn’t stop there.
This story of Jesus’ ascension is about that baton being passed to us—21st century disciples—you and me, us! And now, my friends, is not the time to fumble the pass. It is time to reach back with our hands, with our palms up, and grasp that baton and then run like hell with every ounce of energy we have in our bodies for God’s redemptive love and justice. The meaning and message of the Ascension is loud and clear. It is Jesus doing that thing he does where he quotes the tradition and then he upends it. This is Jesus saying, “You have heard it said, wait for a Messiah who will deliver you from trouble. But I say to you, take hold of the baton, for you, too, have a role to play in God’s story of redemption. Descend from whatever prejudice or fear or insecurity you are hold up on or in and enter the world that needs you. Proclaim the good news with your words and especially with your lives, your bodies, and be God’s redemption. Grab that baton with the strongest grip you have and go into the world for the love of the world.” That is the story of the ascension. Jesus purpose was never to hang around for us to admire him and cheerlead him on. His purpose was always to pass the baton to those who have ears to hear and eyes to see and hearts open enough to risk doing what others say can’t be done.
“In an age of pandemic, it’s tempting to say, Ah yes, ‘into the world’ – but all that’s on hold right now. We have to stay at home, maintain physical distancing, and wait for this difficult time to pass before we can go back ‘into the world.’ In the meantime, all we can do is stand looking up toward heaven…this is a temptation to passivity. Don’t fall for it…the phrase, ‘social distancing’ is a misnomer: what we actually need is increased ‘physical distancing’ and, at the same time, increased ‘social connectedness.’ There are all kinds of ways to connect with the wider world and support our neighbors, from making masks to donating money to supporting communal policies that protect the most vulnerable to electing wise political leadership. Now more than ever: into the world, for the love of the world!” we are called.
Last Sunday, Chalice issued a powerful call from this pulpit. Ringing the rallying cow bell she called us to go into the world for the love of the world. As she rang that bell chills ran through my body. Her words resonated deeply. It’s time to rally – to take hold of that baton and run like hell to eradicate poverty in America, to fight income inequality so that every single person who labors at a job earns a living wage, to denounce racial injustice on every level, to condemn with our words and bodies the ‘phobias that marginalize and oppress God’s children. Reach back with your hand, palm up and feel that baton hit your hand. Let it sting as it hits so you can feel the urgency of what it is asking of you and of us in our times.
I learned early on in my time at Pullen that this congregation values the question. And in my 28 years with you I have tried to be faithful and authentic in asking the questions of our faith and trusting that you will find your way to a faithful and authentic response. I still believe that asking the right question is more valuable than trying to identify a “right” answer. The right answer to life’s meaningful questions is often different for each person. And yet, and yet, Chalice’s rallying bell has me departing this morning from my practice of just asking the question. That baton in my hand is speaking, and to be faithful to my own conscience I come today with some very specific asks of our community. These asks are not about trying to tell our community how to do it right, they are simply about taking hold of the baton that has been passed to us from previous generations and continuing the race set before us. They are about going into the world for the love of the world.
The baton of racial justice has been passed to us. If we are committed to not fumbling the pass there are things we need to do as a community. And so, to continue the race, I am asking every member of Pullen to read one of the following: Ta-Nehisi Coates’ article that appeared in 2015 July/August issue of The Atlantic titled: There Is No Post-Racial America, or Howard Thurman’s book, Jesus and the Disinherited, or Kelly Brown Douglas’ book, Stand your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God. (There is a difference in knowing history and truly understanding history. We need to continue to work on our understanding of history.)
Holding the baton of racial justice, I am asking our church to do an audit of our constitution and bylaws and church policies and procedures to determine where they hold racial bias. Furthermore, I am asking that we study the possibility of initiating a six-month theologian in residence program where we invite a person of color to work with us on a theological framework for our racial justice work.
In response to the baton of radical inclusion that has been passed to us by previous generations at Pullen, beginning with John T. Pullen, I am asking that we form a working group to identify those who need our radical welcome right now—those the universal church still shuts its doors on—so that we can be reaching out to welcome them into our community, and to help us recognize the things we might need to work on to make others feel more welcome in our community.
And to the baton of fighting poverty in our nation, it is time for us to define how, specifically we will use our resources to fight poverty beyond what we are already doing. We can do more. What other organizations, in addition to the ones we already work with, do we need to be in collaboration with to fight poverty? What goals will we set? How will we ensure that on our watch, poverty is not just accepted as the ugly but inevitable shadow of capitalism? The baton has been passed.
And finally, we need laser focus on the work of the Care of Creation group. Ecological devastation goes hand-in-hand with issues of poverty and racial injustice. These issues are not separate. Together, they are the cancers spreading throughout our nation. The intersectionality of poverty, racial inequities and ecological devastation is well documented. The church and Jesus’ 21st century disciples have a responsibility to speak to each with faithful truth-telling.
As Jesus ascended into that cloud, the baton was passed, the rallying bell has been rung. Will we live with our palms up ready to take hold and run the race with perseverance? I am ready. Are you? Are we? Roger Crook writes of our history: “We will not be a people who despair of the future but a people whose heritage offers hope.” Our hope lies in living with our palms up, receiving the baton, and running like there is a grizzly bear chasing us. May we, here at Pullen, grasp the baton that has been passed to us and run the race that Pullenites have been running for 156 years.
If the ascension story has any meaning for us, it is this: as a community we are not called to stand looking up to the heavens waiting on Jesus, but rather we are called be an active presence in the world carrying on the redemptive work of healing the injustices of the world and proclaiming a love and hope that includes all people. Just like the art of passing the baton in a relay race, it may not be as simple as it looks but with God’s guidance and our willingness we can do this. Palms up my friends. Palms up!
