On the Ascension

 One of the most wonderful things about the Catholic faith is its structure:  the structure of the Mass itself, plus the structure of the liturgical seasons and feasts.  C. S. Lewis once said that in a worship service, if you do not know ahead of time what is going to happen or what is being prayed, then you are forced to listen to see if you agree with what is being said, so that you can say "Amen."

However, if you know ahead of time what is being said or prayed, then it leaves you free to enter into your own heart in response to the liturgical celebration. As you already know you can say "Amen" to the prayer, you then begin to link your own thoughts and the events of your own life to it.

Season after season, year after year, the Church follows a predictable cycle of celebrations and events from the life of Jesus:  Advent, Christmas, Ordinary Time, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, Living in the Spirit..... 

And Sunday after Sunday, we know the Mass will bring us to the foot of the cross where Jesus surrenders His entire life and being to the Father for the salvation of the world.  We know the prayers; we know the cycle of the Mass: 

the Penetential Rite -- acknowledging sin and asking for mercy; 

the Liturgy of the Word -- the readings, the homily, the Creed (I believe) and Intercessory Prayer.  

And then the Liturgy of the Eucharist ---Gathering the gifts to be offered, preparing the altar, prayer, the Sanctus (recognizing the holiness of the Lord among us), the Consecration, and the Mystery of FAith. 

Finally, the Communion Rite -- The Lord's Prayer*, the Sign of Peace*, the Agnus Dei*, and receiving the Body of Christ.  * (All the elements which must be acknowledged before approaching the altar).

While teenagers and indifferent Catholics find the repetition boring, as C.S. Lewis points out, the predictability allows us an amazing personal response to the events taking place, with the unique ability to link the events of the Mass to our own inner and personal lives, as well as to the service we extend to the world around us.

The same is true of the liturgical seasons.  As we enter into each celebration, we are invited to respond from our own perspective to the event.  And so the Church brings us yearly to the entire Word of God, both in the Scriptures and in the Life of Christ.  (By the end of each 3-year cycle, we will have covered the entire Bible in the liturgy of the Word -- and then we begin again.)

Which bring us to today's celebration of the Ascension of our Lord.  Left to a random selection of services and prayers, this is a feast we might never approach on our own.  Today, however, we ponder what ever meaning the Ascension of the Lord might have to our own lives.  Sometimes a homily might give us an Aha moment; other times, the Holy Spirit Himself, according to the divine promise, will enlighten our minds with a personal revelation.  As Bishop Barron once wrote:

Since Jesus is the Son, He is God, and it is impossible for us to adequately interpret him through our own powers of perception. We need a divine pedagogue through whom to understand what he tells us about the Father. This is the advocate we call the Holy Spirit.

So, here, after a long introduction, is one of my joyous responses to the Feast of the Ascension:  Again, Bishop Barron:  The one thing we must not do is to imagine that Jesus has gone up, up, and away from the earth, leaving us to direct our lives the best we can, while He watches from a remote distance.  Rather, He has gone into a different dimension that trascends our universe, but in a sense,  is closer to us than the world around us.  Living now in a spiritual dimension, He can direct this world through those who are "in" Him in the Spirit.  He is a God ever closer to us in all the events of our life now.  (Note: not a direct quote, but a putting together of ideas Barron has expressed on the topic)

Who do we pray to on a regular basis -- a remote God in the heavens above, who can barely hear our squeaky prayer?   Or a God ever closer to us than our own thoughts and breaths? A God who enters into our world to save us at every moment?  A God who moans with us in our sorrow and grief and who offers us a way out of our troubles?  A God who says to us, "I am with you, even to the end of the world"?

Viva la Ascension!