The Angels were tired

http://wwwmigrate.usccb.org/bible/readings/050516-ascension.cfm

ACTS 1:1-11
LK 24:46-53

When it has been awhile since we’ve last seen a friend, and there they stand in front of us, the first thing we do is replace the fading painting of the other in our mind, that older photograph, the image of their eyes or the cleft in their chin, with what we see in front of us. 

Aging almost immediately erases the certainly more youthful memories of them, sometimes like an electric shock. “Dear God, look at you!” Fat may have appeared, or fallen away. Hair most certainly has changed, or likewise fallen away. Their hands, reaching out for a shake or a hug, may no longer be so supple or strong. Voices, though, often stay the same, certifying the identity of our missed friend, perhaps infrequently heard only through the phone. And now the cadence of their words, arching sounds so familiar to only them, like the giggle in the way they say hello, places us instantly in their presence.

Maybe it has only been a month since we’ve seen our friend. Or, decades. It’s all the same. We reunite with someone we love and have treasured. We hold their arms, stare unashamed at them, reconnecting both our fond and forgotten snapshots of them, practically running our hands over their face like a blind person eager to catalogue everything we can about our friend.

The last time we were together, we probably took several last glances, maybe waving goodbye, assuring ourselves and our friend, that we loved them as they left. Interestingly, it's not the reuniting that consumes us, though. It's the goodbye.

While they were looking intently at the sky as he was going,
suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them.
They said, “Men of Galilee,
why are you standing there looking at the sky?
This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven
will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”

Did I hear that right? “Why are you standing there looking at the sky?” What a preposterous thing to ask. Isn’t it obvious? The disciples are on the edges of grief. A moment they knew in the back of their minds has now arrived, and they are grasping at as many memories as possible. They aren’t loitering, for goodness sake.

I’ve always found this scene the epitome of rude behavior on the part of two angels who should know better. What an amazing disregard for empathy. It’s as if these fellows were end of the shift nurses in a hospital telling a family that visiting hours are over. “You have to leave now.”

Or, the classic state department motor vehicles agent dismissive of an old man who didn’t know he was supposed to bring his water bill to prove he is who he is. “For goodness sake, your license is expired! We need proof that you live at this address. You know, you don’t even look like this picture. Next!”

Empathy is exhausting. I get that. But, holy cow. “Quit standing around and get back to whatever it is you do. Nothing to see here.” 

Sheesh. Scripture can be both alarming and dead pan.

Maybe it’s me. Maybe I don’t have empathy for the angels. They probably had a hard day. Or perhaps they had been watching Jesus’ back for 33 plus years, and they expected to be the ones arm in arm with him, heading back up to heaven. But, no. 

“You two stay back and inform the disciples that Jesus will be coming back. Tell them they shouldn’t worry,” said the coordinator of the Ascension. He kind of looked like John Boehner. “I’ll take it from here.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said to them, handing them notes on what they were to say, then he turn away quickly to make sure the folks arranging the clouds that Jesus was flying through were appropriately puffed up. “Hey, get me more light over here!” The two unhappy angels could hear him shouting as the entire holy retinue faded from sight.

All that time they had spent with Jesus, secreting him through crowds and attempting to keep up with his constant interactions. The duty had been hard, especially having to put up with over-the-top people like Mary Magdalene and that annoying dwarf Zacharias. And now, at the apex of history, all the big guns come out to steal the glory, and Ralph and Frank are left behind for crowd control. 

“Let’s get this done so we can at least get back up there for the cake cutting,” Ralph said to Frank. 

“This stinks,” Frank said.

“Yeah, look at them,” he said pointing to the dozens still hanging around, staring into the sky. 

They had put up with the knucklehead disciples for three years, constantly clueless, totally unaware that the creator of the universe was in their midst, and now they’re acting like a bunch of crybabies.

“What are we supposed tell them?” Frank asked, thinking he had the note.

Ralph picked up the notes dropped on the ground by Angel Boehner. He read them. “Jesus leaves here, goes to heaven, returns later, same route.”

“Pretty cryptic, don’t you think?” Ralph asked. “It doesn’t even mention the Holy Spirit coming.” 

“Then we don’t tell them,” Frank said, stuffing the notes in his pocket. 

Both of them looked at their shiny new, white garments, which they put on special for today’s big occasion. 

“We should probably take these off, then,” Ralph mentioned. All dressed up for nothing.

“No,” Frank said.

Frank scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at his partner. “We’re not supposed to stand out in the crowd. It’ll freak them out.”

“I don’t care,” Frank said. “I’m going in. You can stay here invisible if you want, but I’m not taking these off just to read this report. Besides, they already know this stuff. Jesus told them this stuff a million times. Why are we even doing this?”

“We’ve not exactly had a spotless record,” Ralph explained. “What with the lepers taking off and not coming back. Jesus wasn’t too happy about that.”

“That wasn’t our fault!” Frank yelled. “We had to keep distracting that nut job Judas. What was his thing, anyway? He was a total waste of time. I’m not taking the blame for him either.”

Ralph shook his head. “Look. Let’s just do this in our sparkling duds and get out of here. I’m pooped.”

That must be the explanation. The angels were pooped. They were exhausted, and worse, ignored. 

In fact, it worked out pretty good for Frank and Ralph. They got mentioned in Acts. They did come off as a couple of unhappy fellas, droopy gus guys. Maybe that’s the lesson in today’s reading. Our rudeness to others while we operate in our mundane jobs will make more history than the 33 years of duty we give.

It could be that the big events that we miss, the ones that we had looked forward to, imagined would be our rewards, are really only for the officials, the bureaucrats and the artsy types. Maybe we can’t sing or work the lights on the clouds, but God needs us to stand around and deliver a message that sets up Jesus’ return. Unknowingly, we may be the harbinger of great news that sounds kind of dull.

“Jesus leaves here, goes to heaven, returns later, same route.”

It’s a short, cryptic message, certainly. But it’s packed with details. The two angels were a bit out of sorts, and tired of dealing with the disciples. The whole thing came out kind of rude.

“Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”

They did put a bit of a spin on it. “Will return in the same way,” comes out a little flat, but it’s got the information in there. Because they were disappointed and relegated to the back of the parade, though, they made quite an impression in their white getups, and were most memorable even in their lackluster delivery.

I’m sure they were embarrassed when Jesus gave them big hugs and thanks when they got back. Chagrined, a bit, at their poor behavior in their big moment.

“Not a problem,” Jesus told them, holding their arms and smiling into their faces. He was glad to see them. They had been gone from him only for a few hours, but he couldn't help but study their faces. He noticed they were left behind to officially announce both his Ascension and his return. 

“We’ll make sure you get proper recognition in a momentous section of scripture," he assured them. "Cake? I saved you each a piece.”