The Ascension of the Lord
Some of you may be familiar with a church on the Kilkenny-New Ross road in the parish of Inistiogue. A very strong stream flows near the church. It disappears underground for a period. When we were children we were told that the stream flowed straight through the earth to emerge somewhere in Australia. It was easy enough to read between the lines: that part of the stream is very, very dangerous because it is very very deep. Keep well clear of it.
Now that story was never intended to be a lesson in science or geography. The purpose of the story was of an entirely different order and purpose: the story was told in order to keep small children safe.
That story has something to tell us about today's scripture readings and about today's feast. When I was a child, I often wondered how far up Jesus had to ascend before he got to heaven. Later, as an adult, I was somewhat surprised when a Russian astronaut returned from a space journey to announce solemnly that he had seen so trace of God. What you see depends very much on where you stand. While I'm sure the Russian astronaut's understanding of science was far more advanced that any of his contemporaries, he still looked at religion with the understanding and imagery of a child.
Those who have left us an account of the ascension had a pre-scientific view of the world, quite different from ours. Theirs was a three-tiered universe, with the realm of the dead literally immediately under the world of the living; heaven literally was the layer above it all. When they spoke of Jesus returning to God and being enthroned at the right hand of the Father, in they saw this as some kind of ascension into the sky. The comment of the astronaut shows that he held two conflicting views of the universe: an extraordinarily sophisticated one developed by modern astronomy and a pre-scientific one shaped by a literal reading of the Bible. Many of us I guess are in the same position, trying to hold together those two essentially contradictory world-views.
We, who have been shaped by the scientific age in which we live, want to know what really happened. In an ideal world, Charlie Bird would have been on hand to explain! We are not unlike the disciples who were "standing there looking up to the sky." Today's readings do not explain what happened. Instead, they throw light on what it all means. And that is a crucial distinction.
The Ascension is one aspect of the broader mystery of the Resurrection, one of the final acts of the Easter drama. No longer is Jesus bodily present among his disciples. The church is now living in a new reality. While the readings for Ordinary Time, which will soon resume, describe this new reality, today's readings focus on Jesus' exaltation. Easter stories showed Jesus trying to assure his followers that they were really experiencing him and not some illusion. He walked with them and ate with them. The one who had died was now alive. In the readings for today we behold him in all his divine glory, taking his place in heaven next to God.
The focus of this feast is the heavenly reign of Christ, not the details of the ascension itself. The challenge it sets before us is spiritual, not scientific. Are we faithful to his teaching in our lives, and do we carry its message into our world? It is not enough to stand awestruck looking heavenward. We must now be his witnesses "to the ends of the world."
His presence now is different, but no less real. He is present to us in both consoling and challenging ways. He supports us sacramentally at key points in our journey to him, like birth, marriage and death. Through the weekly Eucharist, he is present with us on our journey.
But he is present to us in a variety of challenging ways as well. He is present to us in those in trouble. Through their cries for help, he invites us to involve ourselves in his work of incarnation and redemption. He is present to us in those who are ill and suffering: Through our sensitive response to their pain, he humanises us and redeems us. Through the plight of the poor he challenges our selfishness and our lazy presumptions that all is well with our world. While his presence consoles and supports us, it also challenges us to draw deeply on the noble reserves that lie dormant within every human being. Ours is both an awesome responsibility and a truly humbling privilege. Like the men from Galilee, we must cease looking to the skies for our God. He is truly incarnate in our brothers and sisters. His pledge to us has been honoured indeed: 'Know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time'.