The Ascension of the Lord
1 May 2008
Where to begin with so great a feast as the Ascension of Our Lord; where indeed when you have promised a short homily, and when you will stick to your promise?
We could begin with this: Space and time, nature and history, have now entered the Trinity, and the world will never be the same again. Aidan Nicols OP, Come to the Father (St Paul’s Press) p80. The Ascension is about the bridging of the gap between this world and the heavenly realms, between this world as it is, and the arena of God’s untrammelled and unmediated rule and reign. That fusion of earth and heaven, the Scriptures call the Kingdom: and the Ascension is the moment when Christ the King truly comes into his Kingdom, to rule over all things as Lord and Judge. (The feast of Christ the King at the end of the liturgical year celebrates the eternal reality of that kingship: Ascension Day marks its inauguration.) At the Ascension, the doors – we speak metaphorically, of course – of the heavenly places are thrown open, and just as all creation is exalted, lifted up, so the light of those realms of glory is shed upon all the world.
Specifically, and vitally, of course, the Ascension marks the arrival, ‘at the right hand of the Father,’ of a human being. The one ascended and glorified is the same Jesus who was born, died, buried and raised on the third day: the mystery and miracle of the Incarnation is not undone. The Ascension teaches us that the God who is Trinity encompasses one like us in every way, yet without sin; and without that human nature which is Christ’s being swallowed up or overwhelmed by the divine. How appropriate today are the notable words of John Donne’s preaching: no man is an island, entire in himself. Even as Jesus Christ is exalted to the Father’s right hand in his humanity as well as his divine nature, so we, who share that humanity, are caught up into the heavenly places. In the words of Christopher Wordsworth’s hymn:
Thou hast raised our human nature
In the clouds to God’s right hand;
There we sit in heavenly places
There with thee in glory stand;
Jesus reigns, adored by angels
Man with God is on the throne;
Mighty Lord, in thine ascension
We by faith behold our own.
The ascended Christ enters into glory not simply to receive our worship, our adoration – and those of you who were at Compline last night will have heard a reading pointing out just how it is that the Ascension marks the point of change for the first disciples from following Christ to worshipping Him – but to intercede for us. Just as, in the old dispensation, the High Priest passed through the veil to enter into the Holy of Holies but once a year to make atonement for the sins of the people, so Christ, passing through the veil which separates this world from the heavenly realm at his Ascension, now eternally makes intercession for us before the throne of grace. The Ascension renders Christ’s high priestly work complete; and the one who is enthroned as our Judge is also the one who pleads ceaselessly on our behalf. Truly Ascension Day fulfils the words of the psalmist, ‘Mercy and truth have met together, Justice and Peace have kissed.’
Then, on Ascension Day – and as we heard in the sermon on Sunday – we mark not only the session, the departure, of the Risen Christ back to his Father, but we anticipate also the coming of the Holy Spirit. Now, a good theological quiz-question, for those who like that sort of thing, is to distinguish the presence of the God the Holy Spirit in the world from that of the risen and ascended Christ, who continues to abide in his Church, in his Word, in the poor, to name but three arenas of that continuing presence. The keen among you may write an essay after Mass. But what we can say – and this is why Ascension Day is also supremely a Eucharistic festival – is that the presence of Jesus Christ in the world is now a sacramental one: particularly, and in a unique manner, his presence is both hidden and revealed under the forms of bread and wine which are His Body and His Blood. It is Our Lord’s return to the Father which makes possible his sacramental presence throughout all ages and in all places, yet without damaging or dividing the unity of his divine-human person, which, in its physical reality – bodily yet glorified – now belongs to the Kingdom of Heaven.
The interpenetration of heaven and earth; the rule of Christ as both Intercessor and Judge; the enthronement of one who is both God and Man; the exaltation of our own humanity; the promise of the Holy Spirit; the gift of Christ’s abiding presence in the Eucharist. All this is proper matter for our celebration and thanksgiving today. Yet one more thing needs to be said. Ascension Day is the day when we must ‘grow up’ as Christians. In a famous image, it is the day when we have to stop staring at the light – the light who is Jesus Christ – and learn to live by that light. That means avoiding the Jesuolatry of so many modern worship songs – you know the sort of thing I mean, the songs which depict Our Lord as the great eternal boyfriend who’s just longing to take us on one everlasting date. (Read the lyrics – I’m not joking.) No, on Ascension Day, we are to learn not to pine – like the men of Galilee – for a distant and disappearing friend; but we to wait in hope and joyful expectation – and Ascension day is the great festival of Christian hope – for that day when we and the whole creation shall once again be made whole, renewed by the Spirit, the purposes of the Father accomplished, and Christ our Head made visibly, as well as invisibly, all in all.
The Principal