The Rev. Dr. John Tamilio III
© 2023, Dr. Tamilio
First, it is a pleasure to have the Masons with us today. This is a group of which I am a member — a group that teaches men to be better men. Our church has had a lengthy connection with the Masons of the Blue Hill Lodge. Rev. Dee’s father was a long-term member, as was Ed Hammond, who passed away not too long ago. Welcome, gentlemen.
Today is the last day of the Easter season. Next Sunday is Pentecost, which marks the longest season on the church calendar. It runs for half a year!
Today is Ascension Sunday — the day that Jesus ascends into heaven, the story that opens the book of Acts. When he ascends to heaven, the crowd looks upward, and we’ve been looking upward ever since. Our eyes are focused on the prize: the heavenly prize that believers will inherit when we shuffle off this mortal coil.
But sometimes, we do not have to look as high up as we think. I just need to look next door.
Dave and Betty live next door to me and Cindy. They are about 80 — a very young 80. They can always be seen working in their yard or playing with their grandchildren. Their pug grand dog stellar also holds a place near and dear to their hearts. Dave recently retired and sold his business. He is a rocket scientist…literally. They put a beautiful garage and a new edition onto their home — a project that has been in the works for quite some time now. The plan was to sell the house to one of their children and to relocate to a warmer climate.
Dave was just diagnosed with cancer. He has six months (maybe a year) to live. How sad. You work all your life, you do all the right things, you raise a family, you attain the American dream, and just as you are about to settle into your golden years you find them stolen from you by this horrific disease.
Dave and Betty have a big pile of dirt in their yard. It is what is left over from their huge building project. They are trying to figure out what to do with it. Cindy and I paid them a visit the other day because I am willing to take some of that soil to help me resurrect the dead lawn in my backyard — many patches are still brown from last summer’s scorching. When we went over there, Dave was with his daughter digging in the garden. (Betty has the most amazing garden in the neighborhood.) Dave was in great spirits, and he was digging away to make room for some fresh bulbs. I was taken aback. Here was a man facing the final months of his life. Was he traveling the world? Was he doing something extravagant, something he always wanted to do? No. He was doing what he’s always done. He was doing what made him most happy: he was tending to his garden and spending time with his family.
I am reminded of the final line of the great Enlightenment satire by Voltaire entitled Candide. After having traveled the world to prove whether we are governed by fate or free will, Candide (the title character concludes), “We must cultivate our garden.” There are many ways to interpret this final line, but most scholars feel as if Candide is saying that we should focus our attention on (and limit our activity towards) the good we are able to accomplish in this life, no matter how grand or small our endeavors may be or seem to be.
Dave is cultivating his garden. He is doing what he enjoys doing the most.
If you were to ask him, I think Dave would say that he is already in heaven. He loves to work in his yard. He is always smiling. He and his beautiful wife often walk through the neighborhood holding hands. He enjoys spending time with his children, grandchildren, and neighbors. Working in his yard is how he likes to spend his time. Why should now be any different?
I have no doubt that Dave will actually be in heaven — sooner than later, I’m afraid. But he doesn’t have to look up to see it. He just has to look around.
I believe that heaven is part of a dialectic: it is the now and the not yet. Think of two concentric circles. (I believe I have used this as an illustration before.) One circle represents heaven and the other one represents earth. The circles overlap at certain points. There are parts of the earth that are not in heaven and vice versa, but every once in a while, they overlap in places we cannot explain nor predict. When that happens, we are in the midst of all that is sacred, all that is good, all that is God. You have to look to see it sometimes. These are not neat, perfectly drawn circles. They are not predictable. They move and they flow. They come upon us unawares. They are governed by God. Maybe this is why Jesus continually said that the kingdom of God is at hand. That can mean it is close by, but it can also mean that it is here, among us.
For my neighbor, it is close by. It is right in his backyard.
Jesus ascends into heaven in the first chapter of the Book of Acts. We will read the next chapter next week. It is the story of Pentecost. Jesus promised his followers in John 14 that once he left them, he would give them the Holy Spirit to guide them, protect them, and to lead them into all truth, life, and light.
Because our God is a Triune God (a Trinity), then Jesus is with us always through the Holy Spirit. The physical manifestation of Jesus may have ascended into heaven, but his living life-giving Spirit is still with us. We do not need to look to the heavens to see him. We just need to look around us. Jesus is here, with us — not just in this church, but in every aspect of our lives.
We spend so much time worrying. We spend so much time planning and preparing and waiting. We ask questions, and the answers we find often lead us to more questions. Guilt keeps us trapped in the past and anxiety keeps us focused on the future. We fail to live in the now, God’s now. I think we weigh ourselves down the most. We succumb to our fears and allow ourselves to be judged by others. All that really matters is how God sees us, and God is madly in love with you — all of you. Nothing you do can make God love you more.
We were created to live life to the fullest in communion with one another and with God. We are to live, laugh, love, pray, worship, serve, dream, hope, sing, dance, create, explore, and exist together in a sacred, covenantal relationship with each other and with our God. You can look up to try to see heaven, but your eyes will probably see it more clearly if you just look around. Amen.