A Season of Witness

May 23, 2020

Acts 1:6-11

In this unexpected, uncalled for—for most unprecedented—unimagined season of the Covid-19 pandemic, the traditional liturgical celebration of the Ascension of Jesus should be a matter beyond its often merely formal observance. Preaching, teaching, and the practical implications ensuing should broaden in the current circumstances the timeless God given gift of hope, nested in God’s ineffable Grace. The good news, the gospel of God’s rule, or realm, or reign—both present and active in this day and age and at the same time a promise in the horizon of a future consummation—is always good news by word and deed that nurture such hope. Hope, in spite of the pressure, the anxiety, the uncertainty, the struggles, and suffering that this present world-wide health crisis entails, is what enables our continuous human striving for life. And the good news of the gospel is about the continuum of life because death has been defeated once and for all in the resurrection of Jesus; the gospel is and has always been good news about life.  Hoping during this time of coronavirus, however, does not mean turning a blind eye to the harshness of a stark reality; on the contrary, it prompts us to act in ways consistent with that hope as we have witnessed many men and women—deservedly called heroes—responding to the call to provide the services necessary to save lives and combat the deadly virus in every necessary sphere of action.

Hope is deeply rooted in the hearts and minds of the disciples gathered together with Jesus at the site of the Ascension according to Acts 1:6-11. What has transpired in a few weeks in their lives is an experience of agony and ecstasy, from the horrendous event of the cross to the jubilation that the resurrection and the victory of life over death brings about. Luke represents this eventful moment in the interplay of the disciples with Jesus at a point of closure and in transition to what follows in the book, culminating with a climatic vision of Jesus' departure from their midst and the eschatological promise of the parousia. The narrative heightens human hope and offers some theological underpinnings for Christian praxis (life), which I am briefly sketching in light of some contextual aspects both in the first century and in our present time. At the core of this reflection is the notion of mission understood as praxis of resistance.

The Lucan stage is climactic; the resurrected Jesus has gathered his followers and friends to the opening of a new horizon, the promise of a different future that will require time and work to take shape. The seeds have been sowed and the signs have appeared. Jesus in Luke’s gospel—the volume preceding Acts—has signaled through his teaching and proclamation what is the core subject to which his ministry points to, which is the reign or the rule of God. This new realm is shaped in the tension between the present time and the future to come; Jesus said, “The Kingdom of God has come near to you” (Luke 10:9, 11, NRSV). He established the proclamation of the good news of the kingdom as the purpose of his ministry (Luke 4:43), and he consistently taught parables of the kingdom, focusing his preaching and teaching not on his person—whether human or divine—but on this new reality both present and future. Furthermore, the healing, exorcisms, the feeding of the hungry, and all of Jesus deeds—without diminishing the intrinsic value of these—point to the affirmation of God’s rule, which had been God’s design since the days of Israel’s tribal confederation: a theocracy. Beyond the challenges and controversies that this ancient vision might entail for 21st century onlookers, it is nevertheless crucial to assert that to speak of God’s rule or kingdom, whatever shape it may take, such reality must be permeated by God’s values and direction; values which do (must) not contradict the plurality of religious voices, and which do not necessarily are in tune with institutional religion. Jesus, in his epochal, initial proclamation of the kingdom (Luke 4:16-30) encounters the opposition of his own townsfolk when he lays out his mission—and of the church—of bringing liberation to everyone; he is proclaiming God’s preferential option for the poor, the oppressed, the incarcerated, and the anticipation of the future, the “day of the Lord,” the expected and desired jubilee in which God’s shalom will be fully realized. The resurrected Jesus that gathered his disciples at the site of the ascension is the same that treaded the dusty roads of Galilee, Samaria, and Judea with words and deeds of resistance to the harsh rule of the Roman Empire and its local clients.

This resurrected Jesus, at the point of departure, the closure of his life and ministry on earth, calls his disciples to be God’s witnesses. They have a pressing question; they are concerned about the restoration of the Kingdom of Israel at that time. Jesus answer is disappointing. On the one hand, it is not the chronos, or the point in time for a righteous reign on earth, the Israelites' dream of a Theocracy lead by a righteous monarch, an idealized David, which is not what Jesus proclamation of the kingdom is about. On the other hand, the kairos, the season of the consummation is still be unknown and in the the future. Neither of these are revealed. However, it is the kairos to witness; of becoming fully aware of the signs of the kingdom that the the disciples have witnessed and the task of its proclamation by word and deed. It is a time for a Christian praxis (life) of “enfleshing” the values, signs, and principles of the kingdom.

This task of being a witness (martys) does no come without risks. In the original Greek of the New Testament the word can also be translated as “martyrs,” which in fact is the meaning that it acquired when early Christians are persecuted, not for their religion, but for their subversive proclamation and mission to the synthesis of religion, politics, and social relations in the cultural environment of the Roman Empire (Cf. Acts 2:14-36). As witnesses they face the dire prospect of appearing in courts and submitting to inquiry, judgment, and sentencing—often to execution—which in fact Christians lasted until the conversion of Constantine and foundation of Christendom. Until then Christian witness to Jesus and the gospel involved a praxis of resistance, resistance to the oppression, enslavement, violence, and death of a sanguinary empire.

But as Jesus promised, the disciples are not alone, they are not “orphans;” they are going to and indeed they received the power of the Holy Spirit, which is the paraclete, the comforter, and yet the dynamys, the Power of the Triune God vesting them for such praxis of resistance. All who believe are empowered to witness to Jesus, the gospel, and God’s kingdom. The understanding of the the function, or the work, or the empowerment of the Holy Spirit, however, needs to be clarified. First, the power of the Holy Spirit is not for the claim of personal possession of any individual, or institution, church or churches. It is the same Spirit the breathes life into every human—and every sentient being, and it is a gift that God in God’s sovereignty grants.

Second, the power of the Holy Spirit provides spiritual gifts for the ministry (praxis) and these are a special providence from God, not “supernatural,” but a natural occurrence of divine action by the Creator, the same Spirit that was moving upon the waters in the story of creation. If signs appear to be extraordinary, which in many cases they are, it is because of God’s prerogative, as Creator Spirit, to define or redefine the so called “natural” understanding of the world, which is a human construction. We humans do not decide what is natural; the world is God’s in the unfolding of all events, both “natural” and historical. Therefore, spiritual gifts are to empower human praxis in its aesthetic, political, and ethical dimensions; for worship, for building the body of Christ, and for witness in the publica arena.

Third, the power of the Holy Spirit (the Comforter) is power for endurance. The reality of the world and its socioeconomic fabric with the intersection of institutionalized evils such as racism, classism, sexism, ethnocentrism, xenofobia, homofobia, police brutality, the oppression of immigrants ad refuges, the abuse of children, and a pervasive culture of violence and death, begs for a transforming Christian praxis—the witness to the kingdom of God, a new order of love, peace, and justice. Endurance is also necessary to abide amid environmental and climate crises, the outcome of human—and Christian—abuse and rape of God’s creation. There is no way to neither avoid or satisfactorily explain suffering; yet there is power to endure its endemic presence. Furthermore, it is the power of hope and for hope.

Finally, the power of the Holy Spirit is power for resistance and for inhabiting the relations of power that permeate the global world of late capitalism. Changing the conditions of oppression and injustice in the world is a daunting task. There are overwhelming powers that offset each other and create a stasis in which power is diffused and, according to Michel Foucault, can be creatively inhabited and productively resisted. A praxis of resistance in the power of the Holy Spirit can bring change. It can advance the deconstruction of structures of violence and death prevalent in the American culture. Seeking peace and justice for everyone is at the heart of the gospel of the kingdom of God of which we, with a clear conscience, are called to witness. It is preaching, prophetic preaching, not a process of communication and Western inculturation to reach the ends of the earth, which has historically colonized the “evangelized." It is joining God in reaching out to every human being making the good new happen.

The passage of the ascension in Acts ends with the epic image of Jesus leaving his disciples in a dramatic way. The culminating moment is enhanced by the presence of two human figures that with a rhetorical question that enhances the climax, indicate that they must not remain looking up (or back) but they should look forward, into the future, until the second coming. In the meantime the mandate is compelling, “You will be my witnesses….” We are God’s witnesses by the power of the Holy Spirit for a world transforming praxis, the hope that sustains us and the labor that urges us.

Horacio Da Valle