Saturday, May 31, 2014

I Didn't Miss It This Time

I dare say that most folks missed it.  Couched between Wednesday's building crescendo of assignments and Friday's promise of their demise, Thursday hardly seemed more than a means to an end.  Even if this past Thursday was every bit as holy as Easter Sunday, most of the world missed it—even those who have confessed the momentous lines of the Apostles' Creed:  "On the third day he rose again from the dead.  He ascended to heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty."

Thursday was Ascension Day, the day that marks the ascension of Jesus Christ.  Forty days after the celebration of Easter and the resurrection of Jesus, the church around the world holds in remembrance this eventful day.  The gospel writer records: "Then [Jesus] said to his disciples....'See, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.'  Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them.  While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.  And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God" Luke 24:49-53.
Growing up in my faith tradition, the ascension of Christ never seemed as momentous to me world as the resurrection or as rousing as the image of Jesus on the Cross.  In fact, after the death and resurrection, the ascension might even have seemed somewhat anti-climatic.  I do remember a Sunday school lesson which was taught by Genevieve Welton concerning the ascension and that is saying something after sixty years.  That withstanding, perhaps it is for such a reason that the resurrection and ascension statements of the Apostles' Creed are essentially treated as one in the same:  On the third day he rose again from the dead.  He ascended to heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty.  I knew better in my head that one miraculous act did not flow immediately into the other: the death of the body of Jesus was answered in the resurrection of Christ, a presence who then floated on to heaven.  Unfortunately, the result of this impression for some years lead me nonchalantly thinking the ascension somehow pointed to the casting off of Christ's human nature, as if Jesus was a presence that only used to be human, one I saw far more fit to memorialize than I expected one day to see face to face.

But in fact, this is far from the experience of the disciples, to whom Jesus appeared repeatedly in the days following the resurrection.  To them it was abundantly clear that Jesus was not any sort of spiritual ghost or remote presence.  He ate with them; he talked with them; he instructed them as to the ministries they would lead and the deaths they would face because of him.  He was in fact more fully human than they ever before realized, and it was this holy body, this divine person that they held near as they lived and died to proclaim his kingdom.

Moreover, the ascension they remembered, as well as the future they envisioned, was no different.  As the disciples were watching and Jesus was taken up before their very eyes, a cloud hid him from their sight.  The text then refers to them "looking intently up into the sky as he was going" when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them: "'Men of Galilee,' they said, 'why do you stand here looking into the sky?  This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go'" (Acts 1:9-11).  In his resurrected body, Christ ascended to heaven, fully human, fully divine, and entirely glorified. 

No action of Christ is without weight, and this, his last action on earth, became far more weighed with hope than was even often realized until I was well into my late forties. On the day Jesus was taken into heaven, the work God sent him to accomplish was finally completed.  The ascension was a living and public declaration of his dying words on the Cross: It is finished.  Ascending to heaven, Jesus furthered the victory of Easter—the victory of a physical body in whom God had conquered death. More and more these later years, because of the ascension, the incarnation is no longer a past event.  Because of the ascension, I stand strong in my belief; the incarnate Christ who was raised from the dead is sharing in my humanity even now.  And just as the men in white informed the disciples, so I carry in my flesh a guarantee that Christ will one day bring me to himself.  It is for these reasons that N.T. Wright affirms in his writing of Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the Mission of the Church, "To embrace the Ascension is to heave a sigh of relief, to give up the struggle to be God (and with it the inevitable despair at our constant failure), and to enjoy our status as creatures: image-bearing creatures, but creatures nonetheless." 

Father, I truly thank you for the meaningful tradition of Ascension Day, held by the body of Christ, around the world, today, a holy day falling inconspicuously on this past Thursday in May.  I thank you that I have found it to be a bold declaration that I have not been left an orphan. And just as n the same post-resurrection body Jesus invited Thomas to touch, Jesus is accessible to me today.  I praise You that He ascended with a body, and shares in my humanity, extending his own body even now, and he is coming back for this body of mine.  I rejoice in the fact that Christ is preparing a room for me, and I know it is real because he himself is real.  Christ has died.  Christ is risen.  Christ will come again.  Amen