Dear Friends,
Today is the day in the Christian calendar when many churches celebrate the Ascension of Jesus. Observed primarily by Catholic, Anglican, and Orthodox churches, this feast day, which always falls forty days after Easter, has waned in significance in recent decades. As you’ll recall, the Orthodox churches celebrate Easter on a different day, so this year, our Orthodox sisters and brothers will mark the Ascension of Christ next week. Even though the ascension is not a major event on our Protestant liturgical calendar, it seems an important part of Jesus’s story for us to consider.
Before we try to unravel the remarkable story of the ascension, let us first open our hearts to understanding with a prayer for illumination:
Come Holy Spirit, open our minds to see the power of Scripture that gives us life. Enlighten our hearts that we might see Christ in all whom we meet. Hear our prayer, which we offer in the name of the one holy and living God, to whom we give all glory. Amen.
It’s widely accepted that Luke and Acts are a two-volume set, written by a single person. We’ll call him Luke, though we don’t know the name of the actual writer. The Gospel of Luke, like the other three gospels, focuses on the story of Jesus’s earthly life and ministry, including his death and resurrection.
But Luke is unique among the gospel writers; he alone includes an account of Christ’s ascension into heaven. He ends his gospel story and completes his narrative of Jesus’s ministry by describing the ascension: “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 24:51-53) Then, almost as if Luke had stopped simply to take a breath and have a quick sip of water, he transitions seamlessly into the Acts of the Apostles, his next book. After a brief reminder of what he had recounted in his gospel, he begins the next book by invoking the ascension. “In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven.” (Acts 1:1-2a).
With our perspective from centuries later, the ascension seems a given, but this is the first time it’s mentioned in the Bible. It’s so dramatic, even cinematic, that it has become a subject for many great artists. You can see how inspiring it was to Rembrandt in his magnificent painting of the ascension. The painting is both inspired and inspiring, just as careful thought about the notion of Christ’s ascension is for all who take some time to consider it.
I suspect that after seeing how these two books flow together, some of you may be wondering why the Gospel of John interrupts the flow of the narrative of Luke into Acts. When the creation of the canon (the set of texts defined by the early church as definitive scripture) began in the second century, decisions were made to keep the gospel accounts together, and to place them at the beginning of the New Testament, where they served as the foundation for the rest of the story. And just as the canon organizers chose to keep the gospel narratives together, so, too, they kept the epistles together. These are the letters – mostly from Paul, as well as some attributed to Peter, James, and others, including John (a different John from the writer of the Gospel of John) – that reflect the diversity and range of the expanding communities of faith.
The book of Acts, however, is neither a gospel nor an epistle. While it clearly follows directly from the Gospel of Luke, it’s not about Jesus’s ministry on earth; it concentrates instead on the emerging and expanding church. And so, it nestles between the gospels and the epistles. The apparent interruption by the Gospel of John of the narrative begun in Luke and continued in Acts is an unintentional consequence of the organizational priorities of the creators of the canon.
Like the liturgical calendar and the lectionary, the selection and order of the books of the New Testament were established over centuries of worship as a means for Christians to experience – to live – the central aspects of our faith. Ideally, the story of our faith is remembered and renewed each time we journey through the cycle. Like great drama and art, the practice reveals vital truths, which we perceive not only by watching the story unfold, but also by our participation in the life of our faith.
Of course, as we engage in this discerning practice, problems of consistency inevitably come up and clutter our minds. Despite such obstacles, God’s ongoing revelation of divine truth must remain foremost to people of faith. One such example of inconsistency occurs with a close reading of the closing verses of Luke and the opening verses of Acts. In Luke, Christ’s ascension occurs in Bethany, late on the day of his resurrection, while in Acts, Jesus’s ascension occurs forty days later: “After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.” (Acts 1:3) (Those forty days are the source for the dating of the Feast of the Ascension.) The essential concept here is the ascension itself, not when it occurred. It is more important to the development of faith to focus on the notion of Christ’s resurrection and ascension to God than on the exact day on which they occurred.
The ascension has three significant dimensions for us. First, it assures us that Jesus’s ministry and commission to the early disciples, and to us twenty-first century disciples, come from God. The ascension is confirmation that Jesus has returned to sit at the right hand of God, a place of power and importance to the people of his time (and ours). Recall how the disciples debated which of them would be seated at the right hand of Jesus, in the coveted place of prominence and distinction. An ancient saying held that “the right hand of God is everywhere.” This phrase underscores our assurance of the triad of virtues that help define God – all-powerful (omnipotent), all-knowing (omniscient), and all-present (omnipresent – everywhere). The risen Christ’s ascension to sit at God’s right hand assures us that Christ and God are one and the same, and that Christ Jesus’s presence and power are everywhere.
Second, Luke and numerous other New Testament writers state repeatedly that Jesus will return to us. With the ascension, Jesus returns to the right hand of God, where he was before his incarnation in human form. During the unknown duration of time before Christ’s return to us, thanks to God’s (Christ’s) omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence, we may rest assured that Christ/God is with us always, because God is everywhere and at all times.
Finally, the imagery of Christ/God ascended to the presence of the one who is sovereign over all creation implicitly contrasts earthly power, which can be seen as the dominion of Caesar, with that of Jesus. We see yet again that the one who seems weak by earthly standards, the one who is humiliated and crucified, is ultimately the one who is all-powerful and sits at God’s right hand. Mortal beings in Rome, or anywhere on earth, who claim divinity and power over all the earth ultimately fall, and that fall is inevitable in the face of God’s eternal reign.
Luke’s account of the ascension, particularly in Acts, moves us to the next step of witness to Jesus’s teaching, resurrection, and salvation. The ascension brings a greater maturity to the developing theology of the New Testament and solidifies the notion of salvation. When asked by his disciples, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6), the risen Christ responds with a hint of the second coming that will result from their (and our) response to his mandate to witness to what they’ve seen and learned. “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:7-8)
The disciples expected that Jesus would immediately inaugurate a new age of God’s reign on earth. And yet, here they were: Jesus was about to leave them, to abandon them. The disciples were impatient for the restoration of the kingdom, but Jesus counseled that they wait. One can only begin to imagine their confusion and concern. “While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit, not many days from now.’” (Acts 1:4-5)
This was Jesus’s assurance that they were not to be abandoned; the Holy Spirit would descend at Pentecost. Nor are we abandoned; we have only to wait for ten days longer to experience the miracle, consolation, and inspiration of Pentecost, when we will celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit that empowers us to take up the commission that Christ gives to us all. It’s fair to say that the same commission that was given to the early disciples is given to us today; our task, like theirs, is to bring the gospel message to our neighbors by our witness in both word and deed.
For us, in these days of self-isolation from the corona virus, the notion of waiting seems to dominate our every hour and action. Waiting feels beyond our control. We don’t know when the virus will subside, when we’ll develop an effective vaccine, when we’ll feel safe, when we and our communities will return to the lives we enjoyed just a few months ago, when we’ll be able to worship together in our sanctuary. We are fearful, anxious, and even depressed.
Thankfully, in the midst of so many unknowns, we are able to celebrate the unexpected goodness we find in waiting: new communities that we’re building with neighbors, families, friends, and one another, new perspectives on what matters and what is no longer important to us. And though we don’t know when the pandemic will truly end, we do know that the day will come when it will be in our past. I pray we’ll be able to act on the many lessons we’ve learned about ourselves and our faith once the pandemic is behind us.
These are challenging, complex times; they pose more questions than answers. Right now, even as we try to define our new reality, we must continue to wait for comfort, for health, for healing, for wholeness. I am as anxious as you may be, and yet, I’m heartened by knowing how many of us are waiting actively rather than passively. We’re looking up and outward, where we’re able to see Christ ascending to the right hand of God; we’re finding Christ’s presence even in our pandemic-defined lives.
Be assured that despite our questions, despite our fear, Christ is present with us. Even as he ascends into heaven, he is also here with us in a time of great need.
Thanks be to God for God’s abundant gifts, which we receive in faith and a sureness of understanding.
Let us pray together:
O God of glory, sovereign of all nations, the risen and ascended Christ calls us to carry your message of life to all people, especially in this time of so much death. Led by the power of your Holy Spirit, may we witness always to the hope to which we are called as we share Christ’s love to the far ends of the earth. Amen.