When they stood on their feet, great fear fell on those who saw them.
Then they heard a loud voice from heaven say to them, “Come up here.”
So they went up to heaven in a cloud as their enemies looked on.
R evelation has been for many centuries a playing field for fools and mischief makers who pretend to interpret its mysterious words and symbols; and few images invite as much speculation as the two martyrs of chapter 11. Were they perhaps historical persons known to Saint John of Patmos and famously killed after a spectacular career of miraculous cures?
Jesus had sent his disciples out two by two, so perhaps we should not be surprised that the pair are killed together. Some of Jesus's disciples might have encountered fierce opposition even before his triumphal march into Jerusalem. Certainly they did afterward. We remember the arrests, trials, and beatings of Peter and John in Jerusalem, and then Paul and Barnabas meeting much opposition in the synagogues and villages where they preached.
What's most extraordinary is not the mission of these two witnesses or their brutal death but their reviving and ascension into heaven. For Evangelical Christians that may sound like the rapture; for Catholics it sounds like Mary's Assumption into heaven.
But there are precedents in the Bible: Enoch and Elijah passed into heaven, but without dying first.
Enoch walked with God after he begot Methuselah for three hundred years, and he had other sons and daughters. The whole lifetime of Enoch was three hundred and sixty-five years. Enoch walked with God, and he was no longer here, for God took him. (Genesis 5:24)
And every schoolchild remembers Elijah's spectacular departure:
As they walked on still conversing, a fiery chariot and fiery horses came between the two of them, and Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind, and Elisha saw it happen. He cried out, “My father! my father! Israel’s chariot and steeds!” Then he saw him no longer.
These ascensions also remind us of the Lord's warning about the unexpected arrival of the end time when two women will be grinding corn together, "...one will be taken, the other left." Or two men working in the field, "...one will be taken, the other left." We see that sort of thing all the time when a tornado demolishes one home while leaving its neighbor untouched. And highway accidents when one passenger is killed instantly and an unharmed companion walks away.
But withal, Catholics return to the vision of Jesus's Ascension and Mary's Assumption, and the promise of the Eucharist. Because we are consumed by the Lord as we consume his flesh and blood we shall also enjoy a resurrection of the body not unlike theirs.
No one can pretend to understand how that might occur; no one can explain how the Risen Lord appeared in the locked and shuttered room of his disciples on the two Sundays after his crucifixion; nor how he appeared walking with two men to Emmaus. How did he travel to Galilee to meet them some time later? Nor are we expected to explain such mysteries. His physical presence among us in the Eucharist is more than enough assurance for us.
The Lord has demonstrated his presence among us repeatedly, with many wonderful signs and blessings throughout our lives. And we believe in him.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.