Unholy Sh+t: the longest brb

WEEK TWENTY ONE: The Longest brb

It was New Year's Eve, the year of our lord, nineteen and ninety-nine. Prince had promised us that this was going to be the party to end all parties, but for me and my friends we were sitting on the couch at one of their parent's house, and it was less than raucous. Sure, we were a bunch of youth group kids saving ourselves for marriage, but that didn’t mean we shouldn’t have a little fun at the end of the world. 

So we did what any reasonable rambunctious youth would do in this situation: we headed to the basement to turn off the power supply at exactly midnight.

The parents screamed, we laughed, and the night was complete. Most notably, Jesus did not return on a white steed with a flaming sword to consume the world in fire and water as many had predicted. This would be my first apocalypse, but certainly not my last. As I got older, I began to wonder, “When is this guy ever going to come back?” But maybe we’ve been asking the wrong question the whole time.

Unholy Sh+t: An Irreverent Bible Study

Ascension Sunday

Today’s Reading: Matthew 28:16-20 and John 17:1-11

Jesus did a great many wondrous things while he walked the Earth: He turned water to wine, walked on water, raised the dead, magically multiplied food like he was on Star Trek, started a zombie apocalypse, and then floated off to Heaven on the clouds. These remarkable successes pale in comparison to his major failure as upper management. Frankly, Jesus had way too much faith in people.

Which is kind of strange, honestly. Because if there was anyone who should distrust humanity, it should be Jesus. Like, people were really, really mean to him from the second he arrived. Heck, from before he was even born. From conception to his state-sanctioned public execution, everyone is trying to unalive this guy. He can’t catch a f+cking break anywhere he goes. He’s constantly getting kicked out of town, threatened, and arrested. 

After all of this, he’s basically just like, “They probably didn’t know they were being mean, Daddy; please forgive them. They are my friends, I promise.”

Just before leaving planet Earth for his interstellar journey to go build a big apartment in the sky for all his homies, Jesus decides to pray for everyone. In a nutshell, his remarks are as follows, “Alright, Dad, I did it. Everyone is completely redeemed, and I set up the franchise on Earth. I’m coming back home for some R&R, and they will be able to handle it from here because I told them everything you told me to tell them. They’ll do fine; I’m leaving Rocky in charge!”

Narrator: everything did not go fine. 

At multiple points throughout the Gospels, we now see the narrative of Jesus ascending into Heaven and giving his disciples what is often called The Great Commission. Essentially, Jesus is sending them out into the world to continue the work that he started. He tells them to care for their neighbor and to heal the sick, just like he did. Presumably, they are going to be following in Jesus’ footsteps of being a nomadic God and King who brings hope to all people. Somewhere along the way, Christianity lost the memo, and instead, we decided to build extravagant buildings, steal people's land, and give them smallpox instead.

Where did we get so far off track? How did we fall so far from the original message?

I think the answer is found in Matthews's telling of the Ascension.

In the version of the story that Matt gives us, it says the eleven remaining apostles arrive at the mountain where Jesus told them to go. When they saw Jesus standing there, it says, “They worshiped and the doubted.” Almost as if those two things are not mutually exclusive like people can do both at the same time and still exist. Most of us were taught that doubt is the antithesis of faith, but here, even in the very last few seconds of Jesus’ time on earth, the disciples are just not so certain about what’s going on. 

As I’ve looked around the vast landscape of religion and its evolution, I am less convinced that our great failure as a species are building beautiful buildings to honor our Creator. Yes, it would be nice if we would also build houses for those made in the image of God as well, but that is kind of the thing, isn’t it? We lost sight of the point. We worship, and we doubt. As religion continued on forward, we changed that to, “We worship, and you don’t ask any f+cking questions because if you doubt, you’ll burn for all eternity in a lake of fire set there by our loving God, who also has a tempter.”

Doubt it is part of it; always has been. 

Somehow, we turned the concept of doubt into something to be shameful of instead of just part of the human condition. We traded doubt in for absolutes and became more concerned with being right than doing what is right. 

Then, as Jesus prepared to win the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest brb in recorded history, he ascended into Heaven saying, “Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” Immediately, we became obsessed with when he would return instead of what he meant. The message got mumbled into,” Don’t doubt, do everything right, because Jesus could return at any moment!” 

Jesus never left. He’s been here the whole time.

Right before the story of his ascension, Jesus told us exactly where we could find him in Matthew 25. Jesus said, “I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited me in; I needed clothes, and you clothed me; I was sick, and you looked after me, I was in prison, and you came to visit me.” His disciples immediately asked him how this was possible; when did we see you naked or hungry or in person? “‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of my siblings, you did to me.”

Jesus ascended into Heaven, and we immediately went back into the upper room, locked the door, and said, “Persecution is coming, and Jesus will return.” But Jesus has been here the whole time; he’s right on the other side of that door. You’ll have a hard time finding him, though, because he’s in that neighborhood bar down the street, he’s on a poll at the strip club, he’s putting on his wig and getting ready to perform at the drag show, he’s cold under a bridge somewhere with a needle sticking out of his arm. He’s right there. He never left.

We just can’t find him because we are still too busy yelling, “Crucify him!”