It all began one silent night some 33 years before.  Only an eclectic handful of shepherds and wise men witnessed the inconspicuous birth of a baby boy sleeping in a feeding trough. The story ended pretty much the same way it began, with a handful of eclectic disciples watching him vanish before their very eyes.  We never knew what he did for most of his life on Earth, but the last three years changed everything and left those who loved him stunned and astonished, looking up at the sky.

We, too, gaze up into the heavens, longing to live ascended lives.  To break free of everything that keeps us down or holds us back.  In the world we live in today, being up is better than being down.  Athletes want to be at the top of their game, singers want to be at the top of the charts, and students want to be at the top of their class.  We all would rather have an up day than a down one.  We cheer when the market goes up and worry ourselves sick when it goes down and crashes.  And, of course, no one wants to be at the bottom of anyone’s list. 

While the reality of our lives is that our feet are planted firmly on the ground, there is still something inside us that knows we are more than our earthbound human bodies.  The problem is that in our desire to live ascended lives, we usually do it at the expense of another’s descent.  It typically involves comparison, competition, and judgment of some kind.  We somehow can’t resist comparing ourselves and our lives with others.  We find ourselves competing for more attention, control, affirmation, and respect.  It’s easy to let our lives get so filled with the busyness of climbing to new heights and searching for the subsequent highs that our world becomes fragmented and shattered, separating us from the intimacy and love of our Creator.  It ultimately becomes the weight that keeps us bogged down, unable to recognize and live the reality of our ascended lives.  We forget that the reality of Christ’s ascension places our very own humanity next to the divine face of God.

If Jesus’ ascension had only been about his absence, then I’m sure the disciples would have experienced significant abandonment issues.  But the ascension was not about location and absence but about presence, fullness, and relationship. The resurrection was about triumph over death.  The ascension was about raising humanity to heaven.  The ascension puts human flesh, yours and mine, at the right hand of God and Jesus.  No wonder the angels were mystified and asked the disciples, “Why do you stand looking up to heaven?” 

The question for us is not, “How do we ascend?”  Jesus already did that for us.  The question is, what is the gravity that pulls us down?  What is it that we need to let go of, to stop clinging to, so we can experience the joy of ascension? Perhaps it’s fear, anger, or resentment?  Indifference or apathy?  Or the need to be correct or in control?   The gravity that keeps bringing us down and prevents us from sharing in the joy of our ascended lives is not the world or the circumstances of our lives.  It is not what is around us; it is what’s within us. The Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord is not the time to stand around gazing up to heaven.  Look within and let go of all our personal gravity and whatever holds us back from recognizing with joy that the risen and ascended Lord is already inside each of our lives.

(Special thanks to Michael Marsh for this inspiration)