A Sermon By Howard-John Wesley (STH’97) About What We See and Don’t See When We Look For Jesus
This sermon was originally published in focus magazine, the annual scholarly publication of the BU School of Theology, in May 2023. The full magazine is available here and this sermon can be found on page 42.
Stop Staring
By Howard-John Wesley
As we contemplate what it means to be stewards of this season, not only in the kingdom of Christ and the church, we realize that we are in the midst of both problematic and opportunistic times. I can’t help but hear the words of Mordecai that he whispered to Esther: You’ve come to the kingdom “for such a time as this.”And God has seen fit to call us to leadership in the body of Christ for such a time as this, a time when our nation, our world, and even the body of Christ is more divided than it has ever been. Racially, politically, financially, scientifically, sexually, and even in our understanding, use, and interpretation of the Bible. We are splintered in many ways. Add to that the stress of leadership, exacerbated by the conditions of the pandemic, and the anxiety of not knowing what church is going to look like going forward, and I can say without fear of contradiction that we are in need of a mountain of healing.
We’re given a clear vision of what that mountain of healing looks like through the pen of the prophet Isaiah, where we see God’s call to conversion and transformation in Isaiah 2. But what really garners and grabs my attention is not just the call to conversion, but even more so the call to come and be instructed on how to make God’s vision a reality. The prophet Isaiah calls us to the mountain of healing that we might hear from the Lord how to institute and maintain the vision that God has shown him. What’s interesting is that Isaiah gives the call, but he does not share the syllabus. There’s no recipe. There are no instructions about how to transform and convert society. And yet, I believe that there’s a little bit of that instruction found in another passage of scripture that I want to partner and parallel with what the prophet Isaiah declares in chapter two: Acts 1:9.
The events recorded in Acts 1 by the same author of the Gospel of Luke paint a glorious scene, setting, and scenario. Jesus has been crucified, but by the glory of God, he has been resurrected from the dead. And his disciples, soon-to-be-named apostles, who were not witness to the resurrection, had been witness for 40 days to the resurrected Jesus. They have walked with him and talked with him. And now, after these almost seven weeks, Jesus has let them know that he’s about to ascend back into heaven.That’s a little bit of bad news, but the sweet news is that Jesus has given them the promise that the Holy Spirit is coming, and with the Holy Spirit will come power to be witnesses in Judea and Samaria, and even all the way to the end of the earth. And so here they are gathered on this day. And they’re watching Christ ascend on a cloud back to heaven.
I want you to envision the splendor of this moment: the resurrected Christ ascending on a cloud and the coming of the Holy Spirit. And if the Christ wasn’t enough, if the clouds weren’t enough, if the coming of the Holy Spirit was not enough, all of a sudden, two angels show up. I want to make certain you see the glory of this moment. Angels have shown up. Christ is ascending. The clouds are gathering. The Holy Spirit is coming. This is God at God’s best; this is a glorious sight.This is something to behold. If I were there—if I were Peter, if I were Matthew—I would have said, “Now this is why I joined. This is why I follow Jesus. Look at the glorious moment we are in. Christ is ascending, the clouds are gathering, the Holy Spirit is coming, and we’ve got angels all around.” It is no wonder why these disciples, soon to be apostles, are staring at a glorious sight.
“Every now and then we have to be reminded that none of us sees God perfectly clearly. That in our humanity and
in our sinfulness and in the frailty of our flesh, we all suffer with blurred vision when it comes to how we see God.”
Likewise, beloved, I would suggest to you that the vision Isaiah paints for us in chapter two is equally worthy of captivating our attention. Isaiah paints the possibilities of what happens when God is in control. Disputes and divisions are settled.Weapons are transformed into tools that feed the hungry. Wars have ceased, justice is abounding, and compassion is common. The imago Dei of all humanity is recognized and respected, and love prevails between brothers and sisters. A vision of me not having to be worried about my unarmed Black sons being killed by police officers. A vision of your daughters being paid equal pay for equal work. A vision of a land where white supremacy is a long-gone memory and voting rights are secured for all citizens. A vision of a land where capitalism does not demand colonization nor the denial of communal responsibility. A land where the pandemic is over, the virus has been defeated. And churches are filled from wall to wall with people who, over the last few years, have realized how very much they need Jesus in their lives. That is a vision worth staring at. That’s something that ought to fixate our focus. That’s something that ought to grab our attention. And like those apostles, maybe we’re staring at this great vision of healing that Isaiah presents. Here they are staring at Christ, the clouds, the coming of the Holy Spirit, and the angels show up. And the angels reprove and reprimand them for staring. The angels come, and they ask the question,“Why are you staring into the sky?”
Why does the Lord reprove them? Why do the angels tell them to stop staring? Let me throw a few ideas out there for consideration and discussion. Could it be, first of all, that the angels tell these disciples, these soon-to-be apostles, to stop staring because we want you to see someone else? Why are they staring? Because they want to see Jesus. And beloved, there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why we do church, to see Jesus. That’s why we build sanctuaries, to see Jesus. That’s why we sing praise and worship and hymns of rejoicing, to see Jesus. That’s why we wear robes and collars so that they won’t see us, but maybe they might see Jesus. That’s why we have Sunday school—to teach children and adults how to see Jesus. That’s why we build ministries and have missions around the globe, so that the world might come to see Jesus. There’s nothing wrong with staring to see Jesus. But there’s some good news and some bad news.
The bad news is this: they’re staring to see Jesus. The Bible says in Acts 1:9, that a cloud has hidden him from their sight. Jesus is ascending into the clouds and the clouds are hiding their clear vision of Jesus. They’re staring at what they cannot clearly see. All they’re getting are glimpses of glory, moments of majesty, and snapshots of splendor. They’re staring, but they can’t see well. And every now and then we have to be reminded that none of us sees God perfectly clearly. That in our humanity and in our sinfulness and in the frailty of our flesh, we all suffer with blurred vision when it comes to how we see God. I know you may disagree with me on this, but that’s all right. I’ve lived long enough to tell you that the most dangerous Christians in the world are the ones who have God all figured out. The ones who swear that they see God better than anyone else sees God. The ones who believe that their theology is always right. The ones who think they have a PhD in God, and they have forgotten that all of us struggle and suffer with blurred vision when it comes to the things of the Lord. That’s why the same prophet that reminds us of the mountain of healing in Isaiah reminds us that as the heavens are above the earth, so are God’s ways above our ways. It is Job, in his arrogance, who demands to hear from God and is encountered by a God who asks him questions he cannot answer to remind Job, “You don’t know everything about God.” It is Paul who reminds us that we see through a glass darkly and that we are called to be stewards of the mysteries of God, not the certainties of God, not the absolutes of God, but the mysteries of God. And this same Jesus who is ascending in the clouds has just spoken to these apostles who have asked him, “Will you now restore to us the kingdom of Israel?” And Jesus’ answer is that there are some things you are not given the ability to know. There are some things you will never understand. There are some things about the ways of God that escape your human understanding. And every now and then you need to be humbled and reminded that you’ve got blurred vision when it comes to the things of God.
“I don’t care what seminary you went to. I don’t care how convicted you are about what you think you know of the Lord, life will put us in some places where our signal is not clear, where our theology is not perfect, where our understanding is not on point.”
A little while ago,I had to go get a new iPhone. I walked into the Apple store and the lady convinced me to get an iPhone 13. She told me how wonderful the phone was. How great the camera, memory, and the functionality were—and all the apps it had. So, I bought the new iPhone because I was convinced it was the greatest phone in the history of humanity. I’m on that phone the other day, and while I’m driving around, I lose a signal. I call out again and I’ve lost the signal. I’m in what’s called a dead spot. And I realize no matter how phenomenal the phone is, that sometimes in our travels, we reach dead spots where the signal is not working. It doesn’t matter how fabulous the phone is, in your journey, inevitably you will come to some places where the signal is not strong, where you cannot hear as clearly as you thought, that it is not as powerful as you thought it was. Every now and then we’ve got to remember that we’ve got some dead spots. I don’t care how big your Bible is. I don’t care what seminary you went to. I don’t care how convicted you are about what you think you know of the Lord, life will put us in some places where our signal is not clear, where our theology is not perfect, where our understanding is not on point. We have to acknowledge our dead spots.
They want to see Jesus. There’s nothing wrong with that, other than the realization that we don’t always see clearly. The bad news is that we don’t always see God the way we want. But here’s the good news. Jesus has given them some instruction on how they can see him clearly. Jesus has taught these disciples how to see him clearly in the world. Not hidden behind the cloud, not ascending into heaven. But Jesus says, “Here’s how you can see me. You ready? When you come across someone who’s hungry, you’ve seen me. When you come across someone who’s sick, you’ve seen me.When you come across an immigrant, you’ve seen me. When you come across a refugee, you’ve seen me. When you come across someone HIV positive, you’ve seen me. When you’ve come across the incarcerated, you’ve seen me.” Beloved, the clearest view of Jesus is not granted by us staring in the sanctuary, but rather by us serving in the streets. And that’s why these angels come and say,“Stop staring”—because what you see up there is confusing, but if you want to see the Lord clearly, he’s not just in the Bible. He’s in that brother with the substance abuse problem. He’s not just in the hymnal. He’s in that family that’s in the homeless shelter. He’s not just in the scriptures. He’s in the struggle of that single mother. We see Christ most clearly not when we stare in the sanctuary, but when we go out into the world and meet those who’ve been hit by disaster. We see Christ most clearly when we see those dealing with food insecurity, or minister to the immigrant and the refugees and the victims of sexual trafficking and domestic violence and abuse. Are we staring at what we cannot see and missing where we can see Christ most clearly?
About the Author
Howard-John Wesley (‘97) is senior pastor of the 10,000-member Alfred Street Baptist Church in Alexandria, Va., and only the eighth pastor in the congregation’s 219-year history. Wesley received a Distinguished Alumni Award from the School of Theology in 2022.