Today’s readings recount the story of Jesus’s ascension into heaven. This is ordinarily a holy day of obligation, and I bet even the most begrudging among us wish that we could dutifully fill the pews of Saint Thomas More Chapel. Instead we will look on like the apostles did staring up at the empty sky, willing what we love to come back.
In Jesus’ last bodily moments on earth, the apostles ask him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus replies, “It is not for you to know the times or the seasons that the Father has established by his own authority.” As we grow increasingly restless after months of isolation and fear, we may be tempted to ask God, “Are you going to fix it all yet?”, only for God to answer, it is not for you to know. How frustrating this is, for the apostles and for us. But Jesus continues: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
The apostles had been waiting with their Jewish ancestors for the messiah to restore the kingdom of Israel for generations. The Church has been waiting for Jesus to come again, just as he left, for two thousand years. And now we are waiting until we can safely hug our friends, receive the sacraments, and delete Zoom from our desktops. We don’t know when or if this will be, and we are tired, frustrated, and hurting. But the Ascension is not a feast of sorrow. “God mounts his throne to shouts of joy!” Psalm 47 reminds us, because we celebrate the interlacing of heaven and earth, the ascent of the Son and the descent of the Spirit. We are called to be witnesses of Christ’s love here in the waiting, and to remember that He is with us always, until the end of the age.
