Ascension 2010
Homily preached by Fr Cyprian Smith
'As he blessed them, he withdrew from them, and was carried up into heaven.'
The Ascension. Do you find that an easy thing to get your minds round? I shouldn't think so. It's so remote from our experience that ordinary language fails, and the New Testament writers themselves have to fall back on picture-language to convey it. What exactly it was like for those who were who were there and witnessed it, we shall never know. What matters is what it means for us now and what it's telling us.
The Ascension is a special moment in a great drama. That drama was acted out by Jesus; it's been acted out by the whole human race many times in its history; and it's still being acted out today by many of you here. So what is this drama?
I don't often get the opportunity to go to the cinema or to see films, so I haven't seen any of those films which came out recently called the Twilight Saga, about a girl who falls or a boy who turns out to be a vampire. I'm not sorry I've missed these films. I suspect they wouldn't be much to my taste. They sound to me as though they might be a bit soppy. But, from what I've heard and read about them, I seem to detect in them a certain dramatic pattern which is common in love-stories. It's a pattern of finding, losing, and finding again. Two people meet; they form an imperishable bond; then they get separated by various misfortunes; but after many struggles and adventures they come together again and are reunited - even if only in death, like Rome and Juliet.
If you look at the story of Jesus, you'll see immediately that it fits this pattern. He met the men who were destined to be his disciples; they were magnetised by him; they dropped everything to follow him; but they eventually lost him when he was arrested and crucified. Just when everything seemed hopeless, he reappeared after the Resurrection; but not for long. At the Ascension he was taken from them again, and this time it seemed to be forever. It wasn't. When the Spirit came at Pentecost, they found him with them again - not as a man side by side with thm in the world, but as a spiritual force inside them, filling them with fire and energy.
Now we need to understand that this drama of finding, losing and finding again isn't something which happens only in stories. It happens in real life whenever two people are united in a close relationship. You'll experience it yourselves when you form a close bond with someone - a close friend or colleague, perhaps, a girlfriend or boyfriend or whoever you end up marrying. You meet, you relate, then you get separated. Sometimes the separation is caused by external circumstances, as when you're forced to travel or to live for a while far away from each other. Sometimes the separation is caused by difficulties and tensions within the relationship itself: misunderstandings, jealousies, quarrels. But if the bond is deep enough you can overcome all thisand you end up being even closer than before. It all depends on how deep and genuine the bond is. An ancient Chinese poem puts this very powerfully when it says: 'When two people are at one in their inmost hearts, their words shatter the strength of iron and of bronze. And when two people understand each other in their inmost hearts, their words are sweet and strong like the fragrance of orchids.'
Now, I'm not suggesting that your relationship with God is exactly like that. It won't be, unless you are a saint or a mystic. But it's worth asking: is that relationship real; does it exist, and can it survive being tested by separation and loss?
Some people say that the desire for God isn't real. It's artificial, created by priests. That's not true. The desire for God doesn't need to be created artificially by anyone. It's already there, deep down inside us, thuogh we often don't recognise it for what it is. It's because of this desire that nothing in life ever satisfies us completely. You may have a happy marriage, a stimulating and interesting job, a beautiful place to live, but I think you'll still find in yourself a certain restlessness, a certain dissatisfaction.
That restlessness comes from the desire for God, and that desire needs to be recognised and given its proper outlet, which is prayer and meditation. In these we reach out into the invisible world for what we can't find in this one.
So your relationship with God exists; it's real. But can it survive being tested? Because it will be tested. Sometimes God will seem very close and real. But not always. There will be times when he seems to have vanished from your life, and you wonder if he exists at all. You'll think that maybe those people are right who say that religion is all illusion, fairytale and moonshine. you'll be testde morally as well. Most of you today are young people, hungry for life, for travel, for experiences. At times, some of the Church's moral teaching will seem rather cramping and restrictive. You'll feel the urge to throw it off, to leave yourselves free to do the things you want to do, even thuogh some of those things may not be very good. It's not only when you've left school taht you'll experience this. There are surely some of you who are being tested already here and now - tested by doubt, tested by temptation, tested by the apparent absence of God. So what's my advice to you as you go out nito the world and face this sort of challenge?
The great medieval saint, Thomas Aquinas, once wrote a letter to a young man just starting at university - his nephew or cousin, I can't remember which. It's an extraordinary letter, because it's so different from what you'd expect a man like Aquinas to write. Aquinas was himself a great scholar, a great theologian; he knew about universities. So you'd expect him to advise the young man on which books to read, which lectures to attend, what sort of work-schedule to follow. Not a bit of it. He says nothing at all about any of that. His advice is very simple. He just tells the young man: 'make sure you pray regularly, every day. Watch what sort of company you keep, who you hang out with. And don't get involved in things which you know to be wrong. That seems to me pretty good advice; I don't think I can improve on it. Follow that, and you won't go far wrong. You'll overcome any difficulties you have to face. Your relationship with God will grow and strengthen. And some of you, I hope, will find in that relationship a source of joy and energy which as yet you have not quite learned how to tap into. In any case, your life will have shape and direction, and even when you die, that will merely be the entry to a new life beyond. You'll go where Jesus went when he vanished into the cloud and returned to his Father.
May God bring us to this.