Homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

The whole Solemnity of the Ascension turns on two simple truths: that Jesus is close to us, and that he has work for us to do. He has passed from our sight not to abandon us but to be closer to us and to go ahead of us. Don't stand around looking into the sky. Pick up the baton.

St John Vianney, the saintly parish priest of the village of Ars in France, once told a story of a simple farmer who used to come to the parish church every day and sit in front of the tabernacle in complete silence for long periods of time. One day, Fr John Vianney couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He asked the farmer, "What do you do when you come here? What do you say in your prayer?" The farmer replied, "Nothing. I look at him and he looks at me." What an extraordinary picture: the silent farmer and the silent Lord, just looking at each other. No words. No agenda. Just love and presence.

Hold on to that image, because it tells us almost everything we need to know about the Ascension. The whole Solemnity of the Ascension turns on two simple truths: that Jesus is close to us, and that he has work for us to do. Both of those truths come straight out of today's readings, and both of them are connected to the Ascension of Jesus.

Not his going away, but his coming closer

When you think of it, the Ascension carries with it a misconception — that we are celebrating the going away of Jesus, his leaving the earth and his disciples. Why would we want to celebrate the going away of Jesus? But in actual fact the Ascension of the Lord is not his going away from us, but rather his coming infinitely closer to us. In St Matthew's version of the Ascension, Jesus promises, "Behold I am with you always, even to the close of the age." No longer is he just present in one place, at one time, as during his days in Palestine 2000 years ago. Now he is present to all of us, all the time, in every place.

He is present to us here and now, as we celebrate this Mass. He hears the prayer that we carried with us through the door of the church today. So take time, this week, to enter into that presence. Know that he is with you always. Talk to him. Experience his closeness.

He has passed from our sight, not to abandon us, but to be closer to us — and to go ahead of us. When Jesus ascended into heaven, he took with him our human nature, now glorified. That is why the Ascension is our great feast of hope. Where he has gone, we hope to follow. He has gone ahead of us to prepare a place for us.

Think for a moment about what that means. A piece of our humanity is already in heaven. Heaven is not a foreign country to us anymore. Our destination is already partly there, in the Body of the Risen Christ.

So that is the first thing the Ascension says to us. Jesus has not gone away. He is closer. And one day, where he has gone, we will follow.

Why do you stand looking into heaven

But there is a second thing the Ascension says to us, and it lands hard. In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus is lifted up while the apostles look on, and a cloud takes him from their sight. And the disciples just stand there, gazing into the sky. Two angels appear and challenge them: "Why do you stand looking into heaven?"

That question is for us, too. The angels are saying, in effect: get on with it. You have work to do. You have a mission. All three readings today say this in their different ways. Paul tells the Ephesians that Jesus has given gifts to his Church for the building up of the Body. The Gospel closes with the great commission: go, make disciples, baptise, teach. There is no version of today's Mass that allows us to just stand around looking into the sky.

Faith was never meant to be a private hobby. The Risen Lord did not ascend in order to send us back to our pews to sit quietly. He ascended in order to send us out.

The Ascension as a relay race

It is helpful to think of the Ascension as a relay race. In a relay, the baton is passed from one runner to another, and the switch over of the baton is the critical moment in the race. More relays are won or lost at that moment than at any other. The Ascension is the passing of the baton. Jesus passes it to his first disciples, and he passes it again today, to us. We are given the responsibility of carrying on the race, the mission, that Jesus began.

So a simple question, and not a guilt question — just the question the angels are asking us today: who is there in your life who has never heard the Gospel? Maybe a colleague, a neighbour, a friend. The greatest tragedy is when Catholic Christians settle for being bystanders and passive spectators. Every one of us is meant to engage in the work of evangelization, in some way, for someone, this week and every week.

If that sounds daunting, keep in mind the promise associated with the Ascension. Jesus does not pass us the baton and send us out alone. He promises the Holy Spirit, and that promise was fulfilled at Pentecost nine days later. From Ascension begins our own preparation for a renewal of Pentecost in our lives. Each of us can prepare to be clothed with power from on high. The Holy Spirit, our Comforter, reminds us of the closeness of Jesus, and gives us the strength to play our part in the mission of the Church.

Set on fire and activated for the mission

Imagine if every single one of us here today were set on fire by the Holy Spirit and activated for the mission. What would our parish look like in a year? What would our families look like? What would the people on the edges of our lives — the ones who don't yet know Jesus — notice was different? That is exactly what the Ascension is preparing us for. But the Spirit will not be forced on us. We have to want him; we have to ask.

So, two things to take home today. The first is the farmer's gift in front of the tabernacle: take time this week to enter into the presence of Jesus, who is closer to you now than he was to the disciples in Galilee. Talk to him. Spend time looking at him, and allow him to look at you.

And then, the second thing: don't stand around looking into the sky. Pick up the baton. There is someone in your life waiting for the Good News, and you may be the only one carrying it to them. The Lord trusts you with that. He has placed you exactly where he needs you to be.

Jesus is ascended into heaven; in him rests all our hope.