Waiting in the Dark

"Waiting in the Dark"--May 30, 2019

"When the dissension became violent, the tribune, fearing that they would tear Paul to pieces, ordered the soldiers to go down, take him by force, and bring him into the barracks. That night the Lord stood near him and said, 'Keep up your courage! For just as you have testified for me in Jerusalem, so you must bear witness also in Rome'.” [Acts 23:10-11]

What do you suppose Jesus does with his time... you know, now that he is risen from the dead and has "ascended into heaven," as the ancient creeds put it?  He's alive again, but what's on his calendar these days?

He's busy showing up to be present with us, taking our side, standing near us.  

To say that Christ is alive again is really only part of Easter's good news--the rest of it is the promise that he is now able to show up... anywhere, perhaps right in the moments we feel most alone and abandoned by everybody else.

Jesus is risen and alive... so that he can keep showing up for the people waiting in the dark.  You know, people like us.

Not to "fix" or change the situation, perhaps. Not to snap a divine finger and beam us out of trouble or heartache or desperation.  But, like the friend who shows up in the hospital waiting room with you, just to be there with you because you need them to show up.

That's certainly how Paul experiences the risen presence of Jesus.

In this short night time scene, Jesus is quintessential Jesus, which is to say that the way Jesus acts in this story is not only consistent with who Jesus is throughout the gospels, but also who we can expect Jesus to be among the disciple-community today, too. And the primary thing about Jesus in this story is that he shows up. Jesus is present with his people, in this case with Paul, just as Jesus had promised to be. In the face of danger and trouble, Jesus does not stand off at a distance from heaven and sit on his hands--he "stands near" Paul, even in the night, and even when he is otherwise utterly alone.

Sure, you can argue that Jesus is really appearing to Paul in a dream, or that this is some kind of communication from heaven to earth. We could debate the metaphysics of how we can even talk about the "where" of Jesus post-resurrection and post-ascension. And we could debate whether or not Jesus himself should bother appearing to people when he has no trouble sending angels to be his couriers on other occasions, even in the book of Acts. Obviously when we start talking about God and location our usual, ordinary language begins to fall apart--clearly Jesus did not have to catch a cab, get an Uber, or hitch-hike to make an appearance in Paul's room in the barracks. And it is hard to say precisely what we mean when we talk about Jesus "showing up" in some place in particular if we also believe that somehow Christ is present everywhere in the same way that God is omnipresent.

Okay, okay, so it might not be difficult for Jesus to appear to Paul in the middle of the night here. But all of that seems to miss the point of Luke's language here: however we conceive of it happening, Jesus stood near Paul. Jesus showed up.  On all Paul's other nights, and all his other days, we could say in some sense that Jesus was with him, but on this night in particular, in the face of danger and in the deathly places where Paul finds himself, Jesus chooses to make himself especially present to Paul there. In the dark place, in the fearful place, in "the valley of the shadow of death," Jesus comes and stands near Paul. 

That is a curious thing to say about Jesus after his resurrection, in particular. We are used to saying in the creeds that Jesus is "seated" at the right hand of the Father--and that is usually our metaphorical way of saying his work is accomplished and completed, and that Jesus now reigns in communion with the Father once and for all. But this same Jesus that we like to imagine is "seated" somewhere for all time, this same risen and living Jesus comes and stands with Paul, coming close to where the troubled saint is waiting in darkness and desperation, rather than watching from a comfortable distance in a heavenly easy chair.   

That is the essential promise of Jesus throughout the Gospels--as Matthew puts it, "Lo, I am with you always, even until the end of the age" (Matt. 28:20). Those are comforting words--if we truly believe that Jesus will keep that promise. When Jesus speaks them at the end of Matthew, all we can go on is faith there, since that is the last sentence of Matthew's Gospel--there are no follow-up stories to show how Jesus either did or did not keep his promise. But here in Acts, even from the hand of a different author, we get a picture of Jesus keeping that promise of presence. Jesus, who may well have been "with" Paul all along, removes whatever veil had kept Paul from seeing him in all his other moments, and comes to "stand near" Paul. Jesus shows up--that is both a sign that Jesus keeps his promise, and that Jesus can be counted on to stand with us, too, when we are taken into the deathly places. Jesus does not keep us at arm's length and say, "I've already suffered my share, so why should I come to endure your suffering, too, alongside you?" Rather, even the Jesus who has earned the right, so to speak, to remain seated in the heavenly throne room waives that right so that he can come and stand with us. Jesus shows up, as promised, which is good news not only for Paul in his difficult dark night, but as a sign that Jesus will keep this promise for us, too.

We need to know that, because the second half of this scene flows from Jesus' promise to our mission. And the way Jesus puts it to Paul is really a nutshell-synopsis of the mission put to us as well: we will be, like Paul, witnesses. That should sound familiar to us, because Jesus' recurring direction to his disciples is, "You will be my witnesses." That is the sum total of what we do as Christians in the world--we are pointer people. We are not commissioned to "win souls" or to "save the world" or to fix all the world's ills--and it would be the epitome of arrogance to think that such things were in our power. Rather, we are people who point to Jesus, who has in fact been sent "that the world might be saved" and who has in fact come to bring the Kingdom of God. We will be people, like Paul, who simply point--in our words and in our actions, so that the watching world (and fellow sisters and brothers in Christ, too) will get a glimpse of what Jesus and his Kingdom are like by seeing us. Our lives will be enacted parables of the Kingdom, things that point to the reality that Jesus really does and is. No more, no less. We are witnesses. The location may change, and the means of doing it may change--not every moment calls for a sermon to be preached--but the mission remains the same. We will be people who point to Jesus.

Of course, even that mission itself brings a word of assurance to us, because we can only point at Jesus if Jesus himself is present among us--otherwise, our fingers are aiming at empty space. Our very act of witness, intended for the watching world to see where Christ is moving among us and so to be led in faith, comes back around to be an encouragement for us. Every time, every way, we point to the ongoing presence of Jesus--in outreach, in the hospital waiting room accompanying the friend who needed you to show up, in the feeding of the hungry, in the welcome of the stranger, in the speaking of Jesus' name--we are reminded, too, that this Jesus to whom we witness is keeping his promise and showing up, too--even in the dark. So, today, out into the world we go...and out in the world we will meet Jesus...

O Lord, be your faithful self today and give us the eyes to see you among us, so that we can point to you as your witnesses, wherever you lead us.