Ascension of the Lord
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
Right
there in front of them. . .right before their eyes. . .“as they
were looking on, [Jesus] was lifted up, and a cloud took him from
their sight.” Place yourself in this scene. You're just standing
there with your friends, listening to your teacher lecture. He's
repeating some of the same stuff he's said a thousand times before.
You have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. One of your more
impatient classmates asks Jesus if and when he plans on restoring the
kingdom of Israel. Ah! Finally, a real question! Let's get this
revolution started! Then Jesus starts taking about times and seasons
and the Holy Spirit and Jerusalem and being his witnesses all over
the world. And just as your eyes are about to glaze over. . .WHOOSH!.
. .he flies up into the sky in a cloud, disappearing from sight. Like
everyone else who sees this, you're standing there stunned, looking
up into the sky, shocked, amazed, wondering what just happened. Then
two guys dressed in white show up and ask, “Why are you standing
there looking at the sky?” Why are we standing here looking at the
sky!? Um, b/c our teacher just got kidnapped by a cloud? Here's
another question just for us: why do the guys in white ask the
stunned disciples why they are looking up at the sky?
Had
the disciples been paying attention to Jesus' answer to the question
about restoring the kingdom of Israel. . .had they been paying
attention for the three years they were with him. . .they would not
have been at all shocked by his ascension into the clouds. Not only
would they not have been shocked, they would've been expecting it.
And they would've watched his rise for a second or two and then
waited for the coming of the Holy Spirit so that their work could
begin. Before he disappeared into the sky, Jesus had instructed his
students, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”
That's pretty clear. Make disciples. Baptize them. Teach them my
commandments. Not all that complicated really. So, why the
hesitation? Notice how the disciples approached Jesus that day on the
mountain in Galilee, “When they saw [Jesus], they worshiped, but
they doubted.” They offer him due praise and adoration, but they
also doubt him. How do they both worship Jesus and doubt him at the
same time? The answer to that question tells us why they are standing
there looking at the sky.
Seeing
your teacher and friend kidnapped by a cloud is pretty amazing. It's
worth a gawk or two. But when you think back to the work he's given
you to do – make disciples, baptize them, teach them his
commandments – his sudden disappearance is a little traumatic. He's
leaving us
with all this work! All that doubt that you felt comes roaring back
and you start to wonder if you can really finish all that he's given
you to finish. Even before he charged you with making disciples and
teaching them his commandments, you knew that he would going away.
Not how exactly but that he would be. So, you do what comes
naturally: you worship the Son of God as you should but you also feel
the pressure of uncertainty, the heavy burden of not-knowing whether
or not you can do all that he asks of you. In the drama of his
ascension, you forget that he said, “And behold, I am with you
always, until the end of the age.” Then two guys dressed in white
show up and ask you why you're standing there looking at the sky. You
answer, “I'm mourning. I'm wondering where to go from here, how to
get started on all I have to do.” And there's another week to wait
before the Answer comes in fire and wind.
Right
before Jesus gives them the Great Commission, the disciples worship
their teacher. They give him thanks and praise for his presence among
them. But under their adoration is a shadow of doubt, just a hint of
uncertainty and fear. Can we go on without him? How do we follow him
if he's gone? What's happens to us once he leaves? All of them are
disciples. All of them are baptized. All of them are well-educated in
his commandments. Yet, they doubt. These men and women are not fairy
tale heroes. They are not mythical figures that embody archetypal
truths. They are men and women. Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters.
Real flesh and blood folks. Jesus doesn't teach them fables to guide
them through life's hard choices. He doesn't offer them sage advice
or moral lessons. In word and deed, he reveals to them the purpose
and plan of his Father. He brings them into the history of salvation
and makes them participants, players in his Father's program of
redemption. Of course they doubt! What ordinary person wouldn't
doubt, knowing that he or she is cast as an agent in the rescue of
Creation from sin and death? The Holy Spirit has not yet come to
them, so their worship and doubt is perfectly ordinary.
Let's
ask ourselves a question: are we standing around looking at the sky?
Do we understand our commission from Christ solely in terms of
waiting and watching for his return? If so, then our doubt has won
out over our zeal for witness; that is, if we still think of our
faith as a life lived watching the sky instead of as a means of
bringing others to Christ, then we are failing to carry out Our
Lord's commission. Jesus says, “Make disciples. Baptize them. Teach
them my commandments.” That's our fundamental task. Whatever else
we may be doing as his followers, whatever else we may think is
necessary for our growth in holiness, our job description as
Christians is crystal clear. And yes, even as we carry out Christ's
commission, we will doubt. We will be afraid. We'll fall and get back
up. We'll fuss and fight with one another over big questions and
small. But when our lives together as brothers and sisters in Christ
become an elaborate picnic of standing around looking up into the
sky, we must immediately remember Christ's words to his friends, “I
am with you always, until the end of the age.” Why are we staring
at the sky looking for Christ? He is with us always.
Jesus'
ascension directly challenges the disciples and us to think hard
about how we are spending our time and energy as followers of Christ.
There is a heaven. And we are made and remade to spend eternity
there. There is a time and place to build an interior castle, to
wander around in our own souls, seeking the presence of God. We
should ponder the divine mysteries, explore our vocations – run
after all the things of heaven! But none of these is an end in
itself, none of these is our charge. We are disciples. Baptized and
well-educated in the commandments of Christ. We are still here b/c
there are still some out there who have not heard God's freely
offered mercy to sinners. There are still some out there who have not
seen God's love at work in the world. They've not seen me or you
following Christ. Do they see us standing around looking up at the
sky? Wondering what could possibly be so fascinating about a cloud?
Make sure they see you and hear you doing Christ's work and speaking
his word. That's the only reason any of us are still here.
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If you live in the Archdiocese of Newark you've stopped looking up into the sky a few days ago and are now hanging out in the upper room waiting for the coming of the Holy Spirit!
ReplyDeleteThe beginning elicited a chuckle or two from me. I took notes as I listened, and this is what struck me: I really liked the phrase "pressure of uncertainty" - what a wonderful description! And I appreciated how you stressed that these were "flesh and blood" people - good reminder. . . the penultimate paragraph was terrific. What really brought it all home to me was the question: are we standing around, waiting and watching? And the reminder that we will doubt and we will be afraid. But none of that can stop us, for we must read/listen to your final paragraph, which I thought really brought it all home: "Make sure they see you and hear you doing Christ's work and speaking his word. That's the only reason any of us are still here."
ReplyDeleteI found it to be excellently preached - the evening preaching was better than the early morning, which I watched. I have really enjoyed this past week of Fr. Philip homilies - just like old times! Thank you!
"Kidnapped by a cloud." Love it.
ReplyDeleteWe were always told, as Deacons, to be prepared in case your priest leans over and says, "I'm not feeling good today, do you think you could do the homily?" So, it's a good thing I read your homily, because it happened! Bad thing was that I did such a good job and setting up for Pentecost, they want me to preach again this weekend!
ReplyDeleteThanks for being there on the interwebs!!!
Peace and Come Holy Spirit!!
Just sharin' the fruits, brother, just sharin' the fruits. . .
Delete:-)
Looking for the saints to lead me to the shrine, where heaven and earth meet. seems to be working...
ReplyDelete