The Ascension of the Lord

As he blessed them he parted from them

and was taken up to heaven.

I can't help but wonder if, "Beam me up, Scotty!" is an allusion to these words of Saint Luke. The only clear connection is the word up; and the Startrek party didn't rise but were transported; and yet the suggestion lingers, with its light touch of humor. Saint Luke does not fail to miss the humor, either: his two men in white garments ask the bewildered disciples, "Why are you standing there looking at the sky?" We can imagine the astonished Galileans looking at the strangers, at the sky once more, and then trudging back to Jerusalem to wonder what comes next.

We have heard from several sources of his departure. The Gospel of John makes much of Jesus' mysterious origins and destiny, and of his coming down and rising up. He must be with us and yet apart from us. It is painfully necessary. Perhaps even tragically.

Which of us would not wish to ascend with him but for the price of our own lives? Those lives which seem ever more dear with the passage of years. If we were given to huge sacrifices at one time, and daredevil escapades, we now seem to cling to our earthbound ways.

The Ascension celebrates the triumph of Jesus, one of our own sons, who has been raised up. He has taken his seat at the right hand of God, whence he came. But he is not the same God who came down; he has been made human first by the gift of Mary, and then by his suffering. He can no more forget us, his people, than a warrior can forget his combat or a mother her child. As a husband is always with his wife even if they must be occasionally apart, so is the Risen and Ascended Lord with us.

Speaking of space fantasies, the StarWars epics also adapted our religious symbols with The Force that is "with you," enabling and empowering and growing stronger whenever a virtuous Jedi (martyr) dies in combat. If Jesus' ministry was confined to his immediate presence, stretching beyond the horizon only when someone insisted he could not come to their homes, his power now encircles the globe -- "even to the ends of the earth."

When some well-intentioned critics opine that Christianity belongs only to European culture and tradition, we remind them how readily our faith has been welcomed everywhere. It has survived barbaric persecutions in some places. Even secularized France is unwilling to surrender its Christian heritage as they rebuild Notre Dame. If the Church disappears from the Mideast under the regime of ISIS, expect it to reappear soon. As Jesus said, "...the very stone would cry out!" (Indeed, the stones of Notre Dame are crying out.)

The Risen Lord is not Asian, European, African nor American; nor is "he" male or female. Jesus speaks the language of the Holy Spirit in every language on Earth. Where there are no words to adequately describe the faith, it creates words (like Trinity, Eucharist, and consubstantial.) The Gospel belongs to everyone; the Church is commissioned to announce it but not to own it. Overcoming our inveterate racism, the Gospel raises us missionaries and ministers in "mission countries," often sending them from the their native lands back to the countries who had sponsored their missions. How beautiful it is when an African or Asian missionary speaks to us in our American or European churches! How grateful we are as we struggle to understand familiar words in a foreign accent. How chastened we are as the missionary tells us of a fervent enthusiasm we cannot remember! They dance for joy as they sing in their churches, and we can barely raise an Amen in ours. 

Hearing of missionary churches we realize the One who was taken into heaven on that late Spring day has been appointed Lord and Ruler of every land. He is not our God; he is Our God.