“Why are you Looking to the Heavens?” – Ascension Year C

In many ways the feast of the Ascension is a summary of the entire Easter season. We have reflected on witnessing, the attitude of Christians in the midst of trials and tribulations, and the hope that exists for us in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Each week we have been led more and more to a full understanding of our responsibility as Christians. This week we are given the prodding we need to stop being a spectator and start taking part in the Christian life.

Our marching orders come straight from the first reading. After Jesus ascends the disciples stare at the sky, thinking that their hope has left them, not knowing what to do next. However, an angel appears to kick-start them into action: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?” This question can certainly be applied to us in our own day. Many pine for Christ’s return in glory. Others see the Christian life as one of prayer and a posture that looks only to heaven. Both attitudes are not authentic Christianity.

Both options for the second reading provide us with the idea that because of the death and resurrection of Jesus, we are people of hope who live differently than other people. In ancient times there was no thought of hope: the gods had an adversarial relationship with humankind and the best we could hope for is to appease them through sacrifice. There was no hope of living a life of virtue since that was reserved only for the few who were strong enough to do so. There was no hope for a blessed afterlife, for only the heroes were able to achieve such status. The rest of us were confined to ordinary lives of suffering on earth and an eternity in the shadows of the Underworld. Yet Paul urges us to “hold unwaveringly to our confession that gives us hope” – and that confession is not merely a creed but a way of living that shows forth the faith we profess on our lips. As Pope Benedict XVI stated: “Christianity did not bring a message of social revolution like that of the ill-fated Spartacus, whose struggle led to so much bloodshed. Jesus was not Spartacus, he was not engaged in a fight for political liberation like Barabbas or Bar- Kochba. Jesus, who himself died on the Cross, brought something totally different: an encounter with the Lord of all lords, an encounter with the living God and thus an encounter with a hope stronger than the sufferings of slavery, a hope which therefore transformed life and the world from within.” (Benedict XVI, Spe Salvi, #4)

The Gospel text for today also makes this point clear: we are to be witnesses to the ministry of Jesus and make that ministry our own: to live and die for others and that the message of the forgiveness of sins be brought to every land on earth. What is more, we have the promise of Christ that he will be with us and the seal of the Holy Spirit that will inform and inspire our own participation in this ministry of Jesus. Only lives built upon such faith and hope can lead to a love that will transform our lives and the lives of others in the world.

It was this faith and hope that conquered the world of the early Church. An early Christian writer reflects on such a witness in the lives of Christians that brings forth such transformation. As we close our reflection, let us ponder these words and see if they apply to our own lives: “Christians are indistinguishable from other men either by nationality, language or customs….And yet there is something extraordinary about their lives. They live in their own countries as though they were only passing through. They play their full role as citizens, but labor under all the disabilities of aliens. Any country can be their homeland, but for them their homeland, wherever it may be, is a foreign country…They live in the flesh, but they are not governed by the desires of the flesh. They pass their days upon earth, but they are citizens of heaven. Obedient to the laws, they yet live on a level that transcends the law. Christians love all men, but all men persecute them. Condemned because they are not understood, they are put to death, but raised to life again. They live in poverty, but enrich many; they are totally destitute, but possess an abundance of everything. They suffer dishonor, but that is their glory. They are defamed, but vindicated. A blessing is their answer to abuse, deference their response to insult. For the good they do they receive the punishment of malefactors, but even then they, rejoice, as though receiving the gift of life….Christians also live for a time amidst perishable things, while awaiting the freedom from change and decay that will be theirs in heaven. As the soul benefits from the deprivation of food and drink, so Christians flourish under persecution. Such is the Christian’s lofty and divinely appointed function, from which he is not permitted to excuse himself.” (From a letter to Diognetus: Nn. 5-6; Funk, 397-401)