Acts 1:1-11
Eph 4:1-13
Mark 16:15-20
“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet
on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on
this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the
hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are
the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth
but yours.” This quote, by St. Teresa of Avila, captures our celebration
and challenge today on this feast of the Assumption of Jesus into heaven.
Today we celebrate and remember the second time that Jesus leaves
his disciples. They didn't get it the first time. They didn’t
respond so well. They hid in a room, terrified. So he came back and
reminded them again, has been reminding us for the past 40 days, that we are to
carry on his work. We are now the hands and feet of Christ. It is
we who are tasked with driving out the demons, speaking new languages, healing
the sick, and in the words of one of our patron saints, Francis of Assisi,
preaching the Gospel always, when necessary with words. Now this second
time that Jesus departs from his disciples, they do better. We hear today
at the end of the Gospel that “they went forth and preached everywhere, while
the Lord worked with them and confirmed the word through accompanying signs.”
As we know and are reminded of in the 2nd reading today, although
we are tasked with the same mission: to incarnate the radical loving presence
of God in the world, just as Jesus did, we are given different talents and ways
to live out that common mission. We are the hands and feet, the eyes and
ears and heart of Christ in the world today, but that doesn’t mean that my
hands and my feet are going to do the same things that your hands and feet are
going to do.
So we can have a similar mission, and do different work.
This is something that I have been reminded of in my work with CAPIC.
The prison industrial complex is a big system held up by a lot of
different people and groups. It is completely overwhelming to think about
tackling it myself, and the reality is it wasn’t built by one person and won’t
be dismantled by one person. Perhaps you have heard of the image of a
birdcage used to describe sexism by feminist author Marilyn Frye. In this
analogy, Frye describes the various manifestations of oppressions as wires of a
birdcage. If we only look at one wire, it would appear that the bird is
not trapped at all. But when we take into account each wire, connected,
we can see how the various structures and systems of oppression function to
keep the bird caged in. To abolish the prison industrial complex I can’t
just focus on private prisons, or just focus on mandatory minimums, or felon
disenfranchisement, or policing, or the war on drugs, or the school to prison
pipeline. Each of those wires, each of those structures, are connected
and tied together to keep certain people and populations in cages,
literally.
That's why I need each part of the body doing what it does best,
using their God-given talents, working in different areas, to bring about the
Kingdom of God. Because we have a lot of wires to cut down for humans to
be free, and we are more powerful working together in our own unique ways. We
can’t do everything, but we can do something, and if everyone does their
something, we are one step closer to our collective liberation.
The Rev. Traci Blackmon who is an active faith leader for justice
in our community used another metaphor at a march and rally I attended for
Reclaim Holy Week. She talked about how we all have a front line.
For some of us it might be leading a march, but for others it might be in
a board room, or in a church, or in our families. Our front lines might
be different, but that’s a good thing, because it means the movement for peace
and justice is reaching far and wide to achieve our goals.
Now I admit that I can fall into the trap of thinking that my front line is the most important. For example if I feel called to preach the gospel by marching through the streets and disrupting traffic, I want everyone else to join me in the streets. I want everyone to join me on my front line, and I get discouraged when others don't seem to care about or act on what I want them to. But the reality is I can't be everywhere doing everything, even though sometimes I sure try. So I need you being Christ in your particular way, with the people you find yourself with. And sometimes it can feel lonely, we might feel like no one cares and we want to give us. Perhaps like the disciples after the first time Jesus left them, we want to just hide away. But we are reminded today at Jesus’ assumption in heaven, that although we may want to wait for someone else to take the lead, to tell us what to do, or do it themselves, we have already been commissioned as the one body of Christ, connected through the One Spirit who gives us each unique gifts, to carry on the work of Christ in building the kingdom of God.
Now I admit that I can fall into the trap of thinking that my front line is the most important. For example if I feel called to preach the gospel by marching through the streets and disrupting traffic, I want everyone else to join me in the streets. I want everyone to join me on my front line, and I get discouraged when others don't seem to care about or act on what I want them to. But the reality is I can't be everywhere doing everything, even though sometimes I sure try. So I need you being Christ in your particular way, with the people you find yourself with. And sometimes it can feel lonely, we might feel like no one cares and we want to give us. Perhaps like the disciples after the first time Jesus left them, we want to just hide away. But we are reminded today at Jesus’ assumption in heaven, that although we may want to wait for someone else to take the lead, to tell us what to do, or do it themselves, we have already been commissioned as the one body of Christ, connected through the One Spirit who gives us each unique gifts, to carry on the work of Christ in building the kingdom of God.
And just because you don't join me on my front line, doesn't mean
I stop doing what I'm called to do or say. We need each other. I
need (list community members and the work they are doing … Sue Self training
our caring ministers, Marilyn and the green team reminding us to care for
creation, Clarence bringing us together to share what we have with those around
the world through microloans, Bob leading our parish council, Jim and Steve
managing our finances, Ann leading our music, Marty teaching me liturgical
dance, and others..). Because while I can't be everywhere doing all
things, God can and is through us. God can simultaneously be visiting the
sick, celebrating a new birth, planting a garden, standing up to injustice,
preaching the good news, because God works through each one of us. Christ's
ascension into heaven reminds us that because Christ has no body now on earth,
we are his body, we are the hands and feet of Christ, and it is the mission of
each of us, as we are commissioned at the end of each mass to go in peace to
love and serve one another.
When we step out of this sacred space we return to
our own front lines, in our families, in our jobs, in our neighborhoods.
Will we rise up to our calling to be Christ in the world and engage in
those tough conversations, and stand up against oppression and all that keeps
us separated? Christ gives us the power to drive out the demons of greed,
egoism, We can speak new languages of love, truth, compassion,
forgiveness, and as we heal ourselves we will heal those around us by reminding
them of the Christ who dwells in each one of us and unites us with all of
creation. Christ has no body now on earth but ours. Ours are the feet with which he walks to
do good. Ours are the hands through which he blesses all the world.
Amen.
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