Summary: In an echo from Psalm 47:5 (the psalter for Ascension Day), "God has gone up." This exaltation is more than a spectacle or a suggestion of the worldly power of God's people. Rather, it affirms that God rules over all things in self-giving love.
Some years ago, the Very Rev. James Parks Morton, retired dean of New York's Cathedral of St. John the Divine, cleaned out his closets. He wanted to loan a significant collection of religious art to the Stony Point conference center on the Hudson River.
One of the pieces was a plaster sculpture of the Ascension of Jesus. Designed in a hot, wild color, the exact portrayal is not immediately obvious. At the top of the panel, two feet are dangling out of the sky. From down below, all anybody could see of Jesus ascending was the bottom of his feet. When people recognize the reference, the scene stirs up a chuckle. Jesus was lifted from the earth. We live our lives under his feet.
We do not talk much about this biblical event, even though it rates two lines in the historic creeds of the church. As the Nicene Creed says, "He ascended into heaven and is seated on the right hand of God." The second half of the phrase is the only part of the creed in present tense. Yet it sounds unusual to present-tense people.
We want to take the Ascension seriously, but Jesus rising into the sky is a most unusual event. It seems unreal to the modern mind, left over from the days when people believed the universe was stacked in three stories: heaven above us, earth around us, hell below. Galileo and his children dared to challenge that vision of the universe. The first astronauts confirmed what many suspected, that spatially speaking, heaven is not up there. So, it is hard to picture Jesus physically floating into the sky.
That explains why most New Testament writers do not draw the picture for us. Only Luke dares to describe the scene and does so twice. The Gospel of Luke stretches out the Easter story for an additional forty days, ending with Jesus being lifted into glory. Then Luke begins his second volume, the book of Acts, with the same scene. The ascension is the conclusion of the story of Jesus and the beginning of the story of the church. According to Luke, the single, pivotal event upon which the ages turn is the ascension of Jesus Christ.
Even so, it is a most curious event. It does not translate into anything the world down here can easily understand. So, the question remains: What does it mean to live beneath his feet?
Well, some people are impressed when they hear the story. They suspend any discrepancies with modern physics and take the story literally. It is not every day that somebody shoots into the air without a rocket pack. Luke ended his Gospel by saying the disciples continued to worship with great joy. They were enthusiastic. They were impressed.
If this story is trying to fill us with excitement, God knows we need it. Here we are, 40 days after Easter. The summer slump is coming. The church will go on vacation. Ushers may cancel if their tee times are changed. As the days lag on after Easter, enthusiasm begins to wane. Something needs to spark the imagination of the church. Maybe we need an impressive event like the ascension to fire us up.
When the world was languishing during the Covid-19 pandemic, the magician David Blaine planned an ascension of his own. He strapped himself to a huge array of hot air balloons in Page, Arizona, and began to float into the sky. Ascending 20,000 feet off the ground, he filmed the event on YouTube, where it has received over 26 million views.1 People were astounded as they watched the spectacle from the ground or on their computers. They applauded, too, when he landed safely.
Alas, it was merely a spectacle, designed to distract the multitudes from the constrictions of the pandemic. Blaine gained a lot of attention for his feat. Many subscribed to his YouTube channel to follow what he might do next. Yet the stunt was pointless. It did not enliven any enthusiasm or provide any fresh energy.
By contrast, remember how the ascension of Jesus proceeds. No sooner does Jesus go up to the heavens when two heavenly beings appear on the ground to ask, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?" It is a sharp rejoinder to those who gaze into the sky. It is a shaking awake of the church that waits only for miracles while there is work to do.
Jesus had already given the disciples his commission. "You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem," the city where he was crucified and raised; 'in all Judea," the region where his ministry had flourished; "and Samaria," that is, in the land of Jerusalem's enemies, among those of questionable beliefs and backgrounds; "and to the ends of the earth," the broad expanse of the world God had made. That commission has been a nudge for the church to get busy, to get organized, to get moving. The faithful church of Jesus Christ cannot stand still with its nose in the air. We are sent here, there and everywhere to declare that Jesus is risen from the dead and raised up -- quite literally -- as the Lord of all.
This is the point of the biblical account. When Jesus ascends, he is not going to a physical location. Rather, he is assuming a function. He is raised to reign. Forty days after rising from the dead, he takes his seat at the side of God. This is the Bible's way of declaring his authority in a right-handed world. The risen Christ has prominence over all things, which is considered good news by the church. In fact, his very last words to his church began with, "You will receive power ...."
Maybe that is what the church needs -- a good dose of power, the promised authority. This would offer confidence, in the certainty that the right man is on our side. In a time when churches' influence is declining, pews are emptying and congregations are strained for resources, there is nonetheless no question who is in charge: Jesus Christ is Lord!
The temptation, however, is to start thinking that if he is in charge, then we are in charge. Imagine the grocery story conversations whenever there is a political election, "We need to put the right people in power, so they can put all the crazies in their place." That is the voice of power, at least in the way the world perceives power: as a force of exerting influence and control, to compel others to get what we want.
That is the voice of power, for sure. At least, that is how the world perceives power -- as a force for exerting influence and control, a way to push others around to get what we want. Yet if the church comes looking for power in the ascension of Jesus, it will see power unlike any kind of power the world has ever seen.
Remember that plaster sculpture from Dean Morton's art collection? There is a small but essential detail that has not been mentioned yet. Visible in those two feet dangling from the sky, there are nail prints. They identify the One who is lifted into heaven as the Jesus who gave his life for the world. As Jesus is raised up to rule over heaven and earth, he rules with sacrificial love.
As we heard in our scripture, the disciples wanted to know if it was time for the Lord to restore Israel's kingdom. They hoped he would drive the Roman Empire from their land and restore their standing among the world's kingdoms. His response was to tell them to stay in the city and pray. The very people who stand beneath the feet of Christ are instructed to wait on the Lord and to keep living as if he was present yet out of sight. This is a Lord who reveals power totally unlike the power of the world.
Many perceive the ascension of Christ as a matter that remains over our heads (pardon the pun). If we stare toward the sky in wonder, we are distracted from our mission on earth. If we claim the authority of the Risen Christ as if it is our possession, we neglect the self-giving love that has redeemed us.
Yet Christ has been raised. Raised from the dead, raised on high, raised to rule over us with love. From his vantage point, strangers walk up and down the street and Jesus sees every one of them. If on earth there is weakness from disease, violation or violence, deprivation or poverty, the Lord rules over it. His commission remains, for us to be his witnesses, to speak and declare that his mercy is stronger than the counterfeit powers of this world. The Ascension offers a perspective on the world, a way for us to perceive reality. As theologian Leslie Newbigin once wrote, "It is possible to indwell the Bible story so that you do not so much look at the Bible from without as look at the world from within the Bible, through the lenses that the Bible gives you."2
What we see is that Jesus Christ is Lord. Lifted out of sight, yet reigning with sovereign love. Nothing in heaven or earth can separate us from that love. He has been lifted up. We need not be afraid.