The
rabbi Jacob was known to be one of the holiest in all of Israel and
as such had a large following of dedicated disciples. When he was
dying they flocked to his bedside to hear what precious last words
he would speak to them. They were assembled in hushed silence when
Slow Joe came puffing in and asked loudly, "What are we all here
for?" "Shh, shh," he was told, "we are gathered
to hear the holy rabbi's last words of wisdom for us."
Still
not grasping the hushed atmosphere he blurted out, "well then
why doesn't someone ask the rabbi what his last words are?" Slow
Joe's serve a great purpose in life. They often articulate what the
smarter and more complicated ones want to say and do, but are blocked
by their inhibitions. Now that Slow Joe had said it they were willing
to ride on his words. So, the question was passed along from disciple
to disciple, "Slow Joe wants to know what the rabbi's last words
are" until it came to the dearest one who was sitting closest
to the dying man. Then he whispered into his ear, "Slow Joe wants
to know what your last words are, Rabbi." The old man open his
eyes and said with great dignity, "my sons, life is like a river!"
Words of gold, precious and memorable! They were passed reverently
from mouth to mouth from disciple to disciple, met with nods of approval,
savored for their beauty and their wisdom. And then they were whispered
to Slow Joe whose raucous voice exploded into the awful silence, "what
does the rabbi mean when he says 'life is like a river'"? It
was only then that all of the others realized that they too did not
understand the meaning of the precious phrase. Now that Slow Joe had
articulated his ignorance they could all lay theirs on to him and
so the message was passed back from disciple to disciple until it
reached the favored one who spoke it into the rabbi's ear, "Slow
Joe wants to know what does the rabbi mean when he says, 'life is
like a river'?" On hearing the question the rabbi opened his
eyes for the last time and then closed them in death, but before he
expired he said, "maybe, maybe, life is not like a river!"
When
it comes to story telling the world is divided into two classes of
people: those who like their stories to have nice neat endings with
all the loose ends tied up, and those who do not because they know
that life is just not tidy and that the heroes do not generally live
happily ever after in real life. The foregoing story, like the Gospel
story that we read and celebrated today on Ascension Day, is somewhere
in between. When we think that we have a nice neat ending we find
that what we have is really an unprepared for and confusing beginning.
Depending
on your point of view, you can read the story of Jesus' Ascension
as a story that completes everything, or as a story that leaves everything
open-ended. The Ascension does complete the mission of Jesus; it is
the last act of the cycle of his life celebrating his return to his
Father. The Ascension is also open ended, for it marks the beginning
of a new time when the apostles have to live in the absence of the
Jesus they knew.
There
are also two kinds of prayer. There is the explicit prayer that has
a set purpose and expectation. It's purpose is to get God on our side
and make the sailing smooth for us on the river of life. It is a kind
of prayer that usually leaves us frustrated because God cannot or
will not be hemmed in by our limited perspectives. The other kind
of prayer is open hearted; it is trying to just be still and get tuned
into God's wave-length. The open heart gets an open answer. It may
not be the expected answer but it will be the real
answer, the answer that brings us into the fullness of the river of
life and refreshes us on our way.
