1st Reading: Acts 1: 1 – 11
2nd Reading: Ephesians 1: 17 – 23
Gospel: Luke 24: 46 – 63
Homily: Ted Keating SM
Our Readings for this feast of the Ascension are preparing us for the coming celebration of Pentecost next Sunday. It is put in many different ways in many different readings surrounding this time after the Resurrection and even in the Last supper readings of the Gospel of John. The Apostles are described as anguished or frightened at the prospect. They are confused about why He needs to go away, and his explanations don’t help. Their grief over this man with whom they plied the roads of Galilee healing, showing mercy for the sinners, touching lepers while healing them, put together with His kindness and keen way of entering the hearths of those He meets. He has similarly touched each of them deeply. Good old Thomas is the one who speaks up and says “We do not know where you are going and how you will return.” So, it is confusion, anxiety, and deep grief. He seems to be leaving them some kind of legacy but they have no idea what they are supposed to do with it.
We too come to this Eucharist in grief, and confusion, looking for light and courage to face what is going on around us. We seem to be powerless as a nation in the face of the murder of hundreds and hundreds of our children by guns meant for wars. We can feel their innocent voices calling to us to do the adult thing – protect them, watch out for them – but our politics is at a dead standstill with ridiculous maxims that are supposed to explain why there is nothing we can do. One Op-Ed in the Post this week described it finally as a nation willing to offer up the sacrifice of its children for the protection of our 2nd Amendment.
We still face the killing of the innocent in Ukraine in the first fully streamed war in television history.
We turn in hope, if not demand, for an explanation from our God (of) love and compassion about why the world unfolds this way. The Apostles ran away when Jesus is confronted with torture and death. They are happy to know He is risen again and with them for a while, but they have no way of understanding how it could happen to the Messiah they had been waiting for. It is the constantly recurring dream of the two people on the road to Emmaus but not arrived yet at the Eucharistic Table on the road where they see him in the “Bread broken” for them.
He says He will be with them still, but (by) the power of the Spirit that he will send to them. He says He will not leave them “orphans” and the Spirit will remind them of all He had shared with them. But how, how, how? They are in chaos. The two men in white robes don’t clarify it much when they say: This Jesus Who has been taken up from you into heaven will come in the same way You saw Him go up into Heaven.”
In another version of this scene, they are told to go to Jerusalem and wait. We know it is for the Spirit that they will wait, Who will begin to guide them and lead them to wherever they will go and whatever they will do and that in the Spirit, Jesus will be with them (us) until the end of time.
So, perhaps this is a time of fast and preparation for the coming of the Spirit. Now we grieve and hope, then perhaps we will understand more and be led to actions on behalf of those who so needlessly and innocently suffer in our world. Perhaps we need to grieve more for a while before we find the meaning we need for action.
And their suffering brings about so much more suffering in those who love these children and serve them day in and day out. Here is a touching confession of a teacher that appeared on the internet this weekend:
Every teacher you know has thought about it.
Every teacher you know has a plan for an active shooter.
Every teacher you know has weighed their point of fight or flight.
Every teacher you know has walked their room looking for blind spots. Every teacher you know has passed their classroom to see what it would look like from the outside.
Every teacher you know has wondered how fast they can lock a door.
Every teacher you know has had a talk about the “spread out” or “group together” methods.
Every teacher you know has gotten jumpy at least once at the sound of a fire alarm, unplanned announcement, or screech from the quad.
Every teacher you know has wondered if they could be in the way long enough to prevent damage.
Every teacher you know has thought about how hard it would be to keep young people quiet.
Every teacher you know has walked into a different classroom and noticed where the doors and windows are.
Every teacher you know.
This is America.
Please pray for Uvalde tonight and in the days to come. This is the worst nightmare for parents and educators. Hold your babies tighter tonight.
Praying for everyone affected by the EVIL act of terror on those innocent children.
Anna Marie Nichols #prayforuvalde