Mind, heart and body
http://spectrummagazine.org/article/cynthia-bourgeault/2014/07/11/how-change-happens-interview-cynthia-bourgeault
How Change Happens: An Interview with Cynthia Bourgeault – This interview appeared in “Transgression,” a recent edition of the journal Oneing, published by the Rohr Institute.
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Word and Life Santa Barbara Program
Announcing
Fall, 2022, Word and Life Program!!
Book Focus
The Wisdom Way of Knowing
Reclaiming an Ancient Tradition to Awaken the Heart
by Cynthia Bourgeault
A new spiritual paradigm is breaking through today
that recognizes the Wisdom level of knowing
as the spiritual headwaters from which the variety of our many faiths flow.
Please plan to join us for a 10-week adventure in
reawakening this spiritual practice.
September 8 through November 10, 2022
Every Thursday am for 10 weeks
Registration info to follow in coming weeks.
We are busy procuring excellent speakers.
Fall, 2022, Word and Life Program!!
Book Focus
The Wisdom Way of Knowing
Reclaiming an Ancient Tradition to Awaken the Heart
by Cynthia Bourgeault
A new spiritual paradigm is breaking through today
that recognizes the Wisdom level of knowing
as the spiritual headwaters from which the variety of our many faiths flow.
Please plan to join us for a 10-week adventure in
reawakening this spiritual practice.
September 8 through November 10, 2022
Every Thursday am for 10 weeks
Registration info to follow in coming weeks.
We are busy procuring excellent speakers.
Lent 2022
Saint Anthony’s is committed in prayer and action in our support of the Ukrainian People. Please join us in this Spirit A Reading from Toni Morrison on Racism
A must read. A Review of a recently released Short Story by Tony Morrison!
https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/toni-morrison-recitatif-short-story-zadie-smith
Advent 2021
ADVENT CELEBRATIONS 2021—Amy-Jill Levine. written last year 2021
THE FOUR SUNDAYS in advance of Christmas make up the season of Advent, the “coming” or the “arrival.” The weeks provide a time to prepare spiritually for the two “comings” of Jesus — one that happened and one that is still expected — his birth and his return. Advent emphasizes waiting and anticipation. The candles (which are variously blue, purple and pink, or white) in the wreath represent four themes of hope, love, joy, and peace.There is, however, an older Advent tradition. The four weeks lifted up theological themes related to endings — death, judgment, heaven, and hell. As such, Advent was a season of penitence and fasting, like a “little Lent.” This view of Advent emerged in the Middle Ages, reaching its zenith of spiritual popularity — perhaps not unsurprisingly — during the Black Death. I’ve always found medieval Advent morbid. But, remembering how meaningful the old practice was during a time of sickness and suffering, I wanted to revisit it this year. Pandemic Advent. COVID Advent. I look at the traditional themes in new ways, reflecting on them in relation to some of my favorite Advent poetry — the poems of Madeleine L’Engle.
The Third Sunday of Advent’s theme is Heaven. TWO POEMS by Madeleine L’Engle:
First Coming.
He did not wait till the world was ready,till men and nations were at peace.He came when the Heavens were unsteady,and prisoners cried out for release.He did not wait for the perfect time.He came when the need was deep and great.He dined with sinners in all their grime,turned water into wine.He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.He came to a world which did not mesh,to heal its tangles, shield its scorn. In the mystery of the Word made Flesh the Maker of the stars was born. We cannot wait till the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,for to share our grief, to touch our pain,He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!Listen to The First Coming Love’s Incarnate Birth Observe and contemplate.Make real. Bring to be. Because we note the falling tree The sound is truly heard.Look! The sunrise! Wait—It needs us to look, to see,To hear, and speak the Word .Observe and contemplate.The cosmos and our little earth.Observing, we affirm the worth Of sun and stars and light unfurled.So, let us, seeing, celebrate The glory of Love’s incarnate birth And sing its joy to all the world.Observe and contemplate.Make real. Affirm. Say Yes,And in this season sing and bless Wind, ice, snow; rabbit and bird;Comet and quark; things small and great.Oh, observe and joyfully confess The birth of Love’s most lovely Word.Listen to Love’s Incarnate Birth
Heaven For centuries, church buildings have been tall and narrow with steeples piercing the sky. The vertical architecture symbolized the fundamental structure of Christianity: God was in heaven, and humankind was here on earth. A gap existed between God and us, and the church served as mediator between the two realms, communicating the word of God down to us and providing a pathway of salvation up to God. In a way, churches have functioned like elevators of divine things, with the top floor, as it were, life’s last trip. If, of course, you were lucky enough to go up and not down.In the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, the word “heaven” often means the sky.
The Hebrew word for heaven, shamayim, referred to everything in both earth’s atmosphere and outer space. The writers of both the Old and New Testaments generally thought that the universe had three stacked tiers, an underworld, this world, and the heavens. The top tier, the heavens, or the “high place,” was considered God’s habitat, and the Bible occasionally depicts God as seated on a throne there. But heaven was far more than a cosmic throne room. The sky is a sacred space, endowed with divine character, giving light, warmth, wind, and rain to the earth. In an interesting theological twist, “heaven” became interchangeable with God in rabbinic tradition; shamayim, without the article, became a regular expression for the name of God. Indeed, there are many places in the Hebrew scriptures where it is difficult to tell if the writer is speaking of the sky or of God! Thus, heaven is both a location in the larger cosmos and a spiritual geography that represents divine attributes and intention. In the New Testament, “heaven” most often appears as “the kingdom of heaven,” God’s political and social vision for humanity, an idea that Jesus uses to challenge Rome’s oppressive empire. Jesus’ own prayer, “Thy kingdom come/Thy will be done/on earth it is in heaven,” seeks to align earthy politics and ethics with the divine order of God’s own dwelling place. For Jesus, heaven was an intrusive reality, the ever-present realm of God pressing into human history. Heaven is here-and-now, not there-and-then. To speak of heaven, therefore, is another way to speak of the earth. Heaven presents an alternative vision of peace, blessing, and abundance to the world’s violence, oppression, and injustice. Because heaven embodies the sort of virtues that human beings long for, it is depicted as a place of perfection, a paradise. Even though Jesus spoke of heaven as immediate, it seems to have eluded the rest of us.
In the poems for today, L’Engle writes of the imperfection of history — the “Heavens were unsteady,” and the world shadowed in violence and injustice — as the setting for Jesus’s birth.I think we made heaven distant — depicting it as far away, unattainable in this life, a blessed reward for faith — because we’ve been disappointed that God’s utopian vision has not come to pass. Jesus said it was here. Yet it remains elusive. Where is it? Especially this year. Where, where, where is anything that even resembles heaven? Maybe Jesus wasn’t saying the kingdom of heaven was truly at hand. Maybe, if it exists at all, it really is in the sky. It certainly isn’t as close as imagined. The best we could get here is a foretaste of heaven, a glimpse of the glory that waits after death. For centuries, we have distanced heaven, placing it beyond reach, impossible to experience in this life. A hope for eternal bliss. Because there’s none here. But L’Engle refused to locate heaven far off.
The Third Sunday of Advent’s theme is Heaven. TWO POEMS by Madeleine L’Engle:
First Coming.
He did not wait till the world was ready,till men and nations were at peace.He came when the Heavens were unsteady,and prisoners cried out for release.He did not wait for the perfect time.He came when the need was deep and great.He dined with sinners in all their grime,turned water into wine.He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.He came to a world which did not mesh,to heal its tangles, shield its scorn. In the mystery of the Word made Flesh the Maker of the stars was born. We cannot wait till the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,for to share our grief, to touch our pain,He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!Listen to The First Coming Love’s Incarnate Birth Observe and contemplate.Make real. Bring to be. Because we note the falling tree The sound is truly heard.Look! The sunrise! Wait—It needs us to look, to see,To hear, and speak the Word .Observe and contemplate.The cosmos and our little earth.Observing, we affirm the worth Of sun and stars and light unfurled.So, let us, seeing, celebrate The glory of Love’s incarnate birth And sing its joy to all the world.Observe and contemplate.Make real. Affirm. Say Yes,And in this season sing and bless Wind, ice, snow; rabbit and bird;Comet and quark; things small and great.Oh, observe and joyfully confess The birth of Love’s most lovely Word.Listen to Love’s Incarnate Birth
REFLECTION: Advent 3:
Heaven For centuries, church buildings have been tall and narrow with steeples piercing the sky. The vertical architecture symbolized the fundamental structure of Christianity: God was in heaven, and humankind was here on earth. A gap existed between God and us, and the church served as mediator between the two realms, communicating the word of God down to us and providing a pathway of salvation up to God. In a way, churches have functioned like elevators of divine things, with the top floor, as it were, life’s last trip. If, of course, you were lucky enough to go up and not down.In the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, the word “heaven” often means the sky.
The Hebrew word for heaven, shamayim, referred to everything in both earth’s atmosphere and outer space. The writers of both the Old and New Testaments generally thought that the universe had three stacked tiers, an underworld, this world, and the heavens. The top tier, the heavens, or the “high place,” was considered God’s habitat, and the Bible occasionally depicts God as seated on a throne there. But heaven was far more than a cosmic throne room. The sky is a sacred space, endowed with divine character, giving light, warmth, wind, and rain to the earth. In an interesting theological twist, “heaven” became interchangeable with God in rabbinic tradition; shamayim, without the article, became a regular expression for the name of God. Indeed, there are many places in the Hebrew scriptures where it is difficult to tell if the writer is speaking of the sky or of God! Thus, heaven is both a location in the larger cosmos and a spiritual geography that represents divine attributes and intention. In the New Testament, “heaven” most often appears as “the kingdom of heaven,” God’s political and social vision for humanity, an idea that Jesus uses to challenge Rome’s oppressive empire. Jesus’ own prayer, “Thy kingdom come/Thy will be done/on earth it is in heaven,” seeks to align earthy politics and ethics with the divine order of God’s own dwelling place. For Jesus, heaven was an intrusive reality, the ever-present realm of God pressing into human history. Heaven is here-and-now, not there-and-then. To speak of heaven, therefore, is another way to speak of the earth. Heaven presents an alternative vision of peace, blessing, and abundance to the world’s violence, oppression, and injustice. Because heaven embodies the sort of virtues that human beings long for, it is depicted as a place of perfection, a paradise. Even though Jesus spoke of heaven as immediate, it seems to have eluded the rest of us.
In the poems for today, L’Engle writes of the imperfection of history — the “Heavens were unsteady,” and the world shadowed in violence and injustice — as the setting for Jesus’s birth.I think we made heaven distant — depicting it as far away, unattainable in this life, a blessed reward for faith — because we’ve been disappointed that God’s utopian vision has not come to pass. Jesus said it was here. Yet it remains elusive. Where is it? Especially this year. Where, where, where is anything that even resembles heaven? Maybe Jesus wasn’t saying the kingdom of heaven was truly at hand. Maybe, if it exists at all, it really is in the sky. It certainly isn’t as close as imagined. The best we could get here is a foretaste of heaven, a glimpse of the glory that waits after death. For centuries, we have distanced heaven, placing it beyond reach, impossible to experience in this life. A hope for eternal bliss. Because there’s none here. But L’Engle refused to locate heaven far off.
No, Advent means that Heaven has come to us. Born among us. Heaven is, indeed, here and now:He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.The Light has dawned; the Maker of the Stars is born. It has happened. The kingdom of heaven has come. And it isn’t a state of perfection. Instead, heaven has arrived “to share our grief, to touch our pain.” Heaven is empathy, compassion, love — come to live with us amid the world’s insanity. The dwelling place of God dwells with us.So what is the problem? She identifies the problem in Love’s Incarnate Birth: our inability to see what has been wrought. Our field of vision fixates on what is wrong, the darkness and evil, death and fear. “Observe and contemplate” is an invitation to view that which is less obvious, widening our sight toward what is in our spiritual peripheral vision. “Make real. Bring to be.” The rising sun, the stars and light, love and joy. Until we behold them — really see them, and answer their dazzling call — we do not truly understand that the event of heaven-come-to-earth surrounds us.
Now. Say yes! Yes to the invitation of joy to and in the world. Even while Caesar is still on the throne. Even while death stalks the land.Behold! Look up! Fear not! I bring you good news of great joy for all the people!Heavenly joy is an earthly rebellion. The call to another way. We may still yearn for heaven’s fulfillment here and now, but its Light has broken on the horizon. The star beckons us to follow. Don’t wait for heaven. Seize it now. Make heaven real. Bring it to be.PRAYERS:O unknown God,whose presence is announced not among the impressive but in obscurity;come, overshadow us now,and speak to our hidden places;that, entering your darkness with joy,we may choose to co-operate with you,through Jesus Christ.—Janet Morley Teach us the true measure of our need that we may pray and look for that coming with wholehearted and joyful anticipation,eager hope,and a readiness to be changed. Amen.—Donald Hilton–Salvation means that there is respite from whatever oppresses in the community that hears, and lives, the Gospel. Men and women, slaves and free people, all come together to say, “In our midst, we have a savior.” For Jesus to be a savior and for the good news to function as salvific, the Gospel says that we do not need to wait until some far-flung future. . . We see it in the present. . . And we can anticipate it tomorrow.
—Amy-Jill Levine
ADVENT 2021 The Third Sunday of Advent A Reflection:
THE FOUR SUNDAYS in advance of Christmas make up the season of Advent, the “coming” or the “arrival.” The weeks provide a time to prepare spiritually for the two “comings” of Jesus — one that happened and one that is still expected — his birth and his return. Advent emphasizes waiting and anticipation. The candles (which are variously blue, purple and pink, or white) in the wreath represent four themes of hope, love, joy, and peace.There is, however, an older Advent tradition. The four weeks lifted up theological themes related to endings — death, judgment, heaven, and hell. As such, Advent was a season of penitence and fasting, like a “little Lent.” This view of Advent emerged in the Middle Ages, reaching its zenith of spiritual popularity — perhaps not unsurprisingly — during the Black Death. I’ve always found medieval Advent morbid. But, remembering how meaningful the old practice was during a time of sickness and suffering, I wanted to revisit it this year, with the poems of Madeleine L’Engle. The Third Sunday of Advent’s theme is Heaven. TWO POEMS by Madeleine L’Engle:
First Coming. He did not wait till the world was ready,till men and nations were at peace.He came when the Heavens were unsteady,and prisoners cried out for release.He did not wait for the perfect time.He came when the need was deep and great.He dined with sinners in all their grime,turned water into wine.He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.He came to a world which did not mesh,to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.In the mystery of the Word made Flesh the Maker of the stars was born.We cannot wait till the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,for to share our grief, to touch our pain,He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!Listen to The First Coming Love’s Incarnate Birth Observe and contemplate.Make real. Bring to be.Because we note the falling tree The sound is truly heard.Look! The sunrise! Wait—It needs us to look, to see,To hear, and speak the Word.Observe and contemplate.The cosmos and our little earth.Observing, we affirm the worth Of sun and stars and light unfurled.So, let us, seeing, celebrate The glory of Love’s incarnate birth And sing its joy to all the world.Observe and contemplate Make real. Affirm. Say Yes, And in this season sing and bless Wind, ice, snow; rabbit and bird;Comet and quark; things small and great.Oh, observe and joyfully confess The birth of Love’s most lovely Word. Listen to Love’s Incarnate Birth REFLECTION:
Advent 3: Heaven For centuries, church buildings have been tall and narrow with steeples piercing the sky. The vertical architecture symbolized the fundamental structure of Christianity: God was in heaven, and humankind was here on earth. A gap existed between God and us, and the church served as mediator between the two realms, communicating the word of God down to us and providing a pathway of salvation up to God. In a way, churches have functioned like elevators of divine things, with the top floor, as it were, life’s last trip. If, of course, you were lucky enough to go up and not down.In the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, the word “heaven” often means the sky. The Hebrew word for heaven, ‘shamayim’, referred to everything in both earth’s atmosphere and outer space. The writers of both the Old and New Testaments generally thought that the universe had three stacked tiers, an underworld, this world, and the heavens. The top tier, the heavens, or the “high place,” was considered God’s habitat, and the Bible occasionally depicts God as seated on a throne there. But heaven was far more than a cosmic throne room. The sky is a sacred space, endowed with divine character, giving light, warmth, wind, and rain to the earth. In an interesting theological twist, “heaven” became interchangeable with God in rabbinic tradition; shamayim, without the article, became a regular expression for the name of God. Indeed, there are many places in the Hebrew scriptures where it is difficult to tell if the writer is speaking of the sky or of God! Thus, heaven is both a location in the larger cosmos and a spiritual geography that represents divine attributes and intention. In the New Testament, “heaven” most often appears as “the kingdom of heaven,” God’s political and social vision for humanity, an idea that Jesus uses to challenge Rome’s oppressive empire. Jesus’ own prayer, “Thy kingdom come/Thy will be done/on earth it is in heaven,” seeks to align earthy politics and ethics with the divine order of God’s own dwelling place. For Jesus, heaven was an intrusive reality, the ever-present realm of God pressing into human history. Heaven is here-and-now, not there-and-then. To speak of heaven, therefore, is another way to speak of the earth. Heaven presents an alternative vision of peace, blessing, and abundance to the world’s violence, oppression, and injustice. Because heaven embodies the sort of virtues that human beings long for, it is depicted as a place of perfection, a paradise. Even though Jesus spoke of heaven as immediate, it seems to have eluded the rest of us. In the poems for today,
L’Engle writes of the imperfection of history — the “Heavens were unsteady,” and the world shadowed in violence and injustice — as the setting for Jesus’s birth.I think we made heaven distant — depicting it as far away, unattainable in this life, a blessed reward for faith — because we’ve been disappointed that God’s utopian vision has not come to pass. Jesus said it was here. Yet it remains elusive. Where is it? Especially this year. Where, where, where is anything that even resembles heaven? Maybe Jesus wasn’t saying the kingdom of heaven was truly at hand. Maybe, if it exists at all, it really is in the sky. It certainly isn’t as close as imagined. The best we could get here is a foretaste of heaven, a glimpse of the glory that waits after death. For centuries, we have distanced heaven, placing it beyond reach, impossible to experience in this life. A hope for eternal bliss. Because there’s none here.
But L’Engle refused to locate heaven far off. No, Advent means that Heaven has come to us. Born among us. Heaven is, indeed, here and now:He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shamehe came, and his Light would not go out.The Light has dawned; the Maker of the Stars is born. It has happened. The kingdom of heaven has come. And it isn’t a state of perfection. Instead, heaven has arrived “to share our grief, to touch our pain.” Heaven is empathy, compassion, love — come to live with us amid the world’s insanity. The dwelling place of God dwells with us. So what is the problem? She identifies the problem in Love’s Incarnate Birth: our inability to see what has been wrought. Our field of vision fixates on what is wrong, the darkness and evil, death and fear. “Observe and contemplate” is an invitation to view that which is less obvious, widening our sight toward what is in our spiritual peripheral vision. “Make real. Bring to be.” The rising sun, the stars and light, love and joy. Until we behold them — really see them, and answer their dazzling call — we do not truly understand that the event of heaven-come-to-earth surrounds us. Now. Say yes! Yes to the invitation of joy to and in the world. Even while Caesar is still on the throne. Even while death stalks the land.Behold! Look up! Fear not! I bring you good news of great joy for all the people!Heavenly joy is an earthly rebellion. The call to another way. We may still yearn for heaven’s fulfillment here and now, but its Light has broken on the horizon. The star beckons us to follow. Don’t wait for heaven. Seize it now. Make heaven real. Bring it to be.PRAYERS:O unknown God,whose presence is announced not among the impressive but in obscurity;come, overshadow us now,and speak to our hidden places;that, entering your darkness with joy,we may choose to co-operate with you,through Jesus Christ.—Janet MorleyTeach us the true measure of our need that we may pray and look for that coming with wholehearted and joyful anticipation,eager hope,and a readiness to be changed. Amen.—Donald Hilton Salvation means that there is respite from whatever oppresses in the community that hears, and lives, the Gospel. Men and women, slaves and free people, all come together to say, “In our midst, we have a savior.” For Jesus to be a savior and for the good news to function as salvific, the Gospel says that we do not need to wait until some far-flung future. . . We see it in the present. . . And we can anticipate it tomorrow.—Amy-Jill Levine
First Coming. He did not wait till the world was ready,till men and nations were at peace.He came when the Heavens were unsteady,and prisoners cried out for release.He did not wait for the perfect time.He came when the need was deep and great.He dined with sinners in all their grime,turned water into wine.He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.He came to a world which did not mesh,to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.In the mystery of the Word made Flesh the Maker of the stars was born.We cannot wait till the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice,for to share our grief, to touch our pain,He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!Listen to The First Coming Love’s Incarnate Birth Observe and contemplate.Make real. Bring to be.Because we note the falling tree The sound is truly heard.Look! The sunrise! Wait—It needs us to look, to see,To hear, and speak the Word.Observe and contemplate.The cosmos and our little earth.Observing, we affirm the worth Of sun and stars and light unfurled.So, let us, seeing, celebrate The glory of Love’s incarnate birth And sing its joy to all the world.Observe and contemplate Make real. Affirm. Say Yes, And in this season sing and bless Wind, ice, snow; rabbit and bird;Comet and quark; things small and great.Oh, observe and joyfully confess The birth of Love’s most lovely Word. Listen to Love’s Incarnate Birth REFLECTION:
Advent 3: Heaven For centuries, church buildings have been tall and narrow with steeples piercing the sky. The vertical architecture symbolized the fundamental structure of Christianity: God was in heaven, and humankind was here on earth. A gap existed between God and us, and the church served as mediator between the two realms, communicating the word of God down to us and providing a pathway of salvation up to God. In a way, churches have functioned like elevators of divine things, with the top floor, as it were, life’s last trip. If, of course, you were lucky enough to go up and not down.In the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, the word “heaven” often means the sky. The Hebrew word for heaven, ‘shamayim’, referred to everything in both earth’s atmosphere and outer space. The writers of both the Old and New Testaments generally thought that the universe had three stacked tiers, an underworld, this world, and the heavens. The top tier, the heavens, or the “high place,” was considered God’s habitat, and the Bible occasionally depicts God as seated on a throne there. But heaven was far more than a cosmic throne room. The sky is a sacred space, endowed with divine character, giving light, warmth, wind, and rain to the earth. In an interesting theological twist, “heaven” became interchangeable with God in rabbinic tradition; shamayim, without the article, became a regular expression for the name of God. Indeed, there are many places in the Hebrew scriptures where it is difficult to tell if the writer is speaking of the sky or of God! Thus, heaven is both a location in the larger cosmos and a spiritual geography that represents divine attributes and intention. In the New Testament, “heaven” most often appears as “the kingdom of heaven,” God’s political and social vision for humanity, an idea that Jesus uses to challenge Rome’s oppressive empire. Jesus’ own prayer, “Thy kingdom come/Thy will be done/on earth it is in heaven,” seeks to align earthy politics and ethics with the divine order of God’s own dwelling place. For Jesus, heaven was an intrusive reality, the ever-present realm of God pressing into human history. Heaven is here-and-now, not there-and-then. To speak of heaven, therefore, is another way to speak of the earth. Heaven presents an alternative vision of peace, blessing, and abundance to the world’s violence, oppression, and injustice. Because heaven embodies the sort of virtues that human beings long for, it is depicted as a place of perfection, a paradise. Even though Jesus spoke of heaven as immediate, it seems to have eluded the rest of us. In the poems for today,
L’Engle writes of the imperfection of history — the “Heavens were unsteady,” and the world shadowed in violence and injustice — as the setting for Jesus’s birth.I think we made heaven distant — depicting it as far away, unattainable in this life, a blessed reward for faith — because we’ve been disappointed that God’s utopian vision has not come to pass. Jesus said it was here. Yet it remains elusive. Where is it? Especially this year. Where, where, where is anything that even resembles heaven? Maybe Jesus wasn’t saying the kingdom of heaven was truly at hand. Maybe, if it exists at all, it really is in the sky. It certainly isn’t as close as imagined. The best we could get here is a foretaste of heaven, a glimpse of the glory that waits after death. For centuries, we have distanced heaven, placing it beyond reach, impossible to experience in this life. A hope for eternal bliss. Because there’s none here.
But L’Engle refused to locate heaven far off. No, Advent means that Heaven has come to us. Born among us. Heaven is, indeed, here and now:He did not wait till hearts were pure.In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.To a world like ours, of anguished shamehe came, and his Light would not go out.The Light has dawned; the Maker of the Stars is born. It has happened. The kingdom of heaven has come. And it isn’t a state of perfection. Instead, heaven has arrived “to share our grief, to touch our pain.” Heaven is empathy, compassion, love — come to live with us amid the world’s insanity. The dwelling place of God dwells with us. So what is the problem? She identifies the problem in Love’s Incarnate Birth: our inability to see what has been wrought. Our field of vision fixates on what is wrong, the darkness and evil, death and fear. “Observe and contemplate” is an invitation to view that which is less obvious, widening our sight toward what is in our spiritual peripheral vision. “Make real. Bring to be.” The rising sun, the stars and light, love and joy. Until we behold them — really see them, and answer their dazzling call — we do not truly understand that the event of heaven-come-to-earth surrounds us. Now. Say yes! Yes to the invitation of joy to and in the world. Even while Caesar is still on the throne. Even while death stalks the land.Behold! Look up! Fear not! I bring you good news of great joy for all the people!Heavenly joy is an earthly rebellion. The call to another way. We may still yearn for heaven’s fulfillment here and now, but its Light has broken on the horizon. The star beckons us to follow. Don’t wait for heaven. Seize it now. Make heaven real. Bring it to be.PRAYERS:O unknown God,whose presence is announced not among the impressive but in obscurity;come, overshadow us now,and speak to our hidden places;that, entering your darkness with joy,we may choose to co-operate with you,through Jesus Christ.—Janet MorleyTeach us the true measure of our need that we may pray and look for that coming with wholehearted and joyful anticipation,eager hope,and a readiness to be changed. Amen.—Donald Hilton Salvation means that there is respite from whatever oppresses in the community that hears, and lives, the Gospel. Men and women, slaves and free people, all come together to say, “In our midst, we have a savior.” For Jesus to be a savior and for the good news to function as salvific, the Gospel says that we do not need to wait until some far-flung future. . . We see it in the present. . . And we can anticipate it tomorrow.—Amy-Jill Levine
WAITING TABLES
Waiting Tables
And I shall clothe myself in your eternal will,
and by this light I shall come to know that you,eternal Trinity,,
are table, and food and waiter for us.
You, eternal Father, are the table that offers us as food the Lamb,
your only begotten Son,
He is the most exquisite of foods for us, both in his teaching,
which nourishes us in your will,
and in the Sacrament that we receive in Holy Communion,
which feeds and strengthen us while we are pilgrim travelers in this life.
–Catherine of Siena–
And I shall clothe myself in your eternal will,
and by this light I shall come to know that you,eternal Trinity,,
are table, and food and waiter for us.
You, eternal Father, are the table that offers us as food the Lamb,
your only begotten Son,
He is the most exquisite of foods for us, both in his teaching,
which nourishes us in your will,
and in the Sacrament that we receive in Holy Communion,
which feeds and strengthen us while we are pilgrim travelers in this life.
–Catherine of Siena–
MARKS GOSPEL Liturgical Cycle B
Many contemporary biblical scholars believe that what we call Mark’s Gospel was composed around 70 CE but probably after the Roman destruction of Jerusalem and its temple in the year 70. (The prominent biblical scholar Raymond Brown (1928 – 1998) saw an unambiguous reference to the destruction of the temple in Mark 13:2, when Jesus says “You see these great buildings? Not a single stone will be left on another. Everything will be destroyed.”)
Mark’s Gospel was written for Gentile Christians in Rome, suffering Roman persecution but also discrimination from Judaeo-Christians, who felt superior to Gentile converts. Up until the nineteenth century, and in some circles even later, the general theological understanding was that the author of Mark’s Gospel was “John Mark” mentioned in Acts of Apostles. Contemporary scholars, however, reject that thesis and generally agree that the final author of Mark remains anonymous. Although it is the oldest of the four, Mark’s Gospel is also much shorter than the other gospels, with just 16 chapters compared to Matthew’s 28, Luke’s 24, and John’s 21.
It is interesting to note that of the Synoptic Gospels, only Mark’s starts with the Greek word εὐαγγέλιον (transliteration: euaggelion) the Greek word for “good news”: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus, the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1) As part of the vocabulary of early Christians, this word did not refer to a specific type of literature nor to a book. The term had a more dynamic meaning. It was a proclamation of an event of major importance. “Gospel” for the primitive Church designated God’s saving actions in and through the person of Jesus.
Mark’s Gospel narration begins with John the Baptizer. John was an itinerant preacher, “a voice crying in the wilderness,” (Mark 1:3) preparing the way for the Messiah. He had many followers and it appears, from Mark’s Gospel, that Jesus from Nazareth was one of them; but John says that Jesus is far greater than he: “I am not fit to kneel down and undo the strap of his sandals.” (Mark 1:8) When John baptizes Jesus in the Jordan, a voice from the heavens speaks to Jesus: “You are my son, the Beloved. My favor rests on you.” (Mark 1:11) Note, the Spirit is speaking directly to Jesus. It is his call to public ministry moving far beyond that of John the Baptizer.
Throughout his life, Jesus comes to a gradual realization of who he is as Human One (“Son of Man”) and Son of God. His disciples as well come to a gradual realization of who he is. Just like people today, who are called to grow in faith, wisdom, and understanding.
Mark’s Gospel has no account of Jesus’ virgin birth or his infancy. The focus is on the adult Jesus as Messiah. The gospel does mention that Jesus had brothers and sisters in Mark 6:3. (In the fourth century when Christian bishops established the doctrine of Mary’s perpetual virginity, this text became problematic. Church authorities then began to explain Jesus’ “brothers and sisters” as either children of Joseph from a previous marriage or actually “cousins” of Jesus. In the fourth century human sexuality became problematic. Enough about that for now.)
Mark’s Gospel also has a rather abrupt ending. Like the other three gospels, Mark does report the visit of Mary, the Magdalene, and her companions to the tomb of Jesus early Sunday morning. When they arrive at the tomb, however, they find the entrance stone removed and a young man (not an angel) tells them: “’Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’ And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing, because they were afraid.” (Mark 16:6-8). And there Mark’s Gospel simply ends!
Most scholars today really believe that the Gospel of Mark originally ended with Mark 16:8. Yet some scholars contend there was in fact a lost ending. Already in antiquity editors and copyists, uncomfortable with such an abrupt ending, provided three different endings for Mark to correct the abruptness of 16:8. The most favored of these added endings is Mark 16:9-19, called the Marcan Appendix, or the Longer Ending. It records three appearances of Jesus raised from the dead: to Mary, the Magdalene; to two disciples; and to the eleven. It mentions Jesus’ ascension into heaven and his sitting at God’s right hand.
Not everything about Mark’s Gospel can be summarized in my weekly blog reflection…….Re-reading Mark’s Gospel this past week, however, two thoughts struck me: (1) Jesus in Mark’s Gospel is a rejected and suffering Son of God, and (2) following Jesus is a discipleship of the cross. Life is not always easy. Many people still live, as did Mark’s congregation, in fearful and threatening times. (Parkland, Florida is but one example.) There are always people, focused just on themselves and their ignorance, who denigrate, take advantage of, and who use and abuse the young, the old, the impoverished, non-whites, and the “losers.”
Already at the end of Mark 8, we read that the person who wants to be Jesus’ disciple must pick up his or her cross and follow Jesus. People living in Nero’s Rome had a very good understanding of the way of the cross. Mark is clearly a gospel of the suffering Messiah and of suffering and fearful discipleship. It is a gospel for those who are suffering and need to find consolation, people who can relate to the fearful cry of those disciples in the sinking boat, in Mark 4. They were frightened by the storm. They wake-up the sleeping Jesus and ask him if he is just going to let them all drown. Jesus calms the storm, and then says to his disciples “Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?” Faith is a strong theme in Mark.
Early in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is confronted with difficulties and rejection. Starting his ministry of healing and teaching, he had quite a popular following, but difficulties with his own family. In Mark 3, Jesus goes home to visit his family but they all think he needs to be taken care of because he has gone “out of his mind.” (Mark 3:21) Then scribes come down from Jerusalem and accuse him of having “Beelzebub the prince of the devils inside him.” In Mark 6, Jesus again visits his mother, brothers, and sisters in Nazareth. He starts teaching in the synagogue and his listeners reject him because they see him as just the carpenter and the son of a woman. Some negative sexism here as well. It is hard to see and appreciate people beyond the old stereotypes. Jesus says: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relatives, and in his own house.” He is amazed “at their lack of faith.” (Mark 6:4-6)
Later in Mark’s Gospel, following Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus changes his speaking style. He speaks with a new urgency. He starts to talk about his upcoming death. Peter tries to rebuke him, but Jesus says: “away from me Satan” (Mark 8:33). Jesus now sees his own painful death on the horizon and fears having to experience it. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus goes to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. A sudden fear comes over him and he is in great distress. Like a loving child he speaks to his father: “Abba everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me….” (Mark 14:35-36).
Jesus’ own disciple, Judas, betrayed him. The other disciples abandoned him. People spit on Jesus. He is blindfolded and beaten. Even Peter rejects him three times. (Mark 14:53-65) The triumphal Palm Sunday refrain: “Hosanna! Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord” (Mark 11:9) is now like an old dream. The next day he appeared before Pilate and was again taken to be beaten, mocked, and ridiculed by the soldiers. They made fun of him as “King of the Judeans” and put a crown of thorns on his head. Even the chief priests and scribes mocked him.
Jesus was put on the cross and died in agony, crying out fearfully in a very human way: “My God, My God, why have you deserted me?” (Mark 15:1-37) But it does not end here.
The Roman centurion at the foot of the cross exclaims: “In truth this man was a son of God.” Three days later the young man at Jesus’ tomb proclaims: “He has risen. He is not here.”
These things happened two thousand years ago. They happen every day as well today. Mark’s Gospel is a narrative that was crafted and constructed to engage and encourage people to have faith in Jesus raised from the dead. Fear and uncertainty, if one allows them to take control, can disable, blind, and paralyze people; but Christianity is not a religion of fear. We are challenged to be alert and faithful to the Good News.
In Mark 8:18-21 Jesus reprimands his disciples: “Do you not yet understand? Have you no perception? Are your minds closed? Have you eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear?”
That passage resonated in my head today as I read that a church in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania is telling people to bring their semi-automatic rifles to a blessing ceremony that will be held at the church next week.
—Jack
Mark’s Gospel was written for Gentile Christians in Rome, suffering Roman persecution but also discrimination from Judaeo-Christians, who felt superior to Gentile converts. Up until the nineteenth century, and in some circles even later, the general theological understanding was that the author of Mark’s Gospel was “John Mark” mentioned in Acts of Apostles. Contemporary scholars, however, reject that thesis and generally agree that the final author of Mark remains anonymous. Although it is the oldest of the four, Mark’s Gospel is also much shorter than the other gospels, with just 16 chapters compared to Matthew’s 28, Luke’s 24, and John’s 21.
It is interesting to note that of the Synoptic Gospels, only Mark’s starts with the Greek word εὐαγγέλιον (transliteration: euaggelion) the Greek word for “good news”: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus, the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1) As part of the vocabulary of early Christians, this word did not refer to a specific type of literature nor to a book. The term had a more dynamic meaning. It was a proclamation of an event of major importance. “Gospel” for the primitive Church designated God’s saving actions in and through the person of Jesus.
Mark’s Gospel narration begins with John the Baptizer. John was an itinerant preacher, “a voice crying in the wilderness,” (Mark 1:3) preparing the way for the Messiah. He had many followers and it appears, from Mark’s Gospel, that Jesus from Nazareth was one of them; but John says that Jesus is far greater than he: “I am not fit to kneel down and undo the strap of his sandals.” (Mark 1:8) When John baptizes Jesus in the Jordan, a voice from the heavens speaks to Jesus: “You are my son, the Beloved. My favor rests on you.” (Mark 1:11) Note, the Spirit is speaking directly to Jesus. It is his call to public ministry moving far beyond that of John the Baptizer.
Throughout his life, Jesus comes to a gradual realization of who he is as Human One (“Son of Man”) and Son of God. His disciples as well come to a gradual realization of who he is. Just like people today, who are called to grow in faith, wisdom, and understanding.
Mark’s Gospel has no account of Jesus’ virgin birth or his infancy. The focus is on the adult Jesus as Messiah. The gospel does mention that Jesus had brothers and sisters in Mark 6:3. (In the fourth century when Christian bishops established the doctrine of Mary’s perpetual virginity, this text became problematic. Church authorities then began to explain Jesus’ “brothers and sisters” as either children of Joseph from a previous marriage or actually “cousins” of Jesus. In the fourth century human sexuality became problematic. Enough about that for now.)
Mark’s Gospel also has a rather abrupt ending. Like the other three gospels, Mark does report the visit of Mary, the Magdalene, and her companions to the tomb of Jesus early Sunday morning. When they arrive at the tomb, however, they find the entrance stone removed and a young man (not an angel) tells them: “’Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’ And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing, because they were afraid.” (Mark 16:6-8). And there Mark’s Gospel simply ends!
Most scholars today really believe that the Gospel of Mark originally ended with Mark 16:8. Yet some scholars contend there was in fact a lost ending. Already in antiquity editors and copyists, uncomfortable with such an abrupt ending, provided three different endings for Mark to correct the abruptness of 16:8. The most favored of these added endings is Mark 16:9-19, called the Marcan Appendix, or the Longer Ending. It records three appearances of Jesus raised from the dead: to Mary, the Magdalene; to two disciples; and to the eleven. It mentions Jesus’ ascension into heaven and his sitting at God’s right hand.
Not everything about Mark’s Gospel can be summarized in my weekly blog reflection…….Re-reading Mark’s Gospel this past week, however, two thoughts struck me: (1) Jesus in Mark’s Gospel is a rejected and suffering Son of God, and (2) following Jesus is a discipleship of the cross. Life is not always easy. Many people still live, as did Mark’s congregation, in fearful and threatening times. (Parkland, Florida is but one example.) There are always people, focused just on themselves and their ignorance, who denigrate, take advantage of, and who use and abuse the young, the old, the impoverished, non-whites, and the “losers.”
Already at the end of Mark 8, we read that the person who wants to be Jesus’ disciple must pick up his or her cross and follow Jesus. People living in Nero’s Rome had a very good understanding of the way of the cross. Mark is clearly a gospel of the suffering Messiah and of suffering and fearful discipleship. It is a gospel for those who are suffering and need to find consolation, people who can relate to the fearful cry of those disciples in the sinking boat, in Mark 4. They were frightened by the storm. They wake-up the sleeping Jesus and ask him if he is just going to let them all drown. Jesus calms the storm, and then says to his disciples “Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?” Faith is a strong theme in Mark.
Early in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is confronted with difficulties and rejection. Starting his ministry of healing and teaching, he had quite a popular following, but difficulties with his own family. In Mark 3, Jesus goes home to visit his family but they all think he needs to be taken care of because he has gone “out of his mind.” (Mark 3:21) Then scribes come down from Jerusalem and accuse him of having “Beelzebub the prince of the devils inside him.” In Mark 6, Jesus again visits his mother, brothers, and sisters in Nazareth. He starts teaching in the synagogue and his listeners reject him because they see him as just the carpenter and the son of a woman. Some negative sexism here as well. It is hard to see and appreciate people beyond the old stereotypes. Jesus says: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relatives, and in his own house.” He is amazed “at their lack of faith.” (Mark 6:4-6)
Later in Mark’s Gospel, following Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus changes his speaking style. He speaks with a new urgency. He starts to talk about his upcoming death. Peter tries to rebuke him, but Jesus says: “away from me Satan” (Mark 8:33). Jesus now sees his own painful death on the horizon and fears having to experience it. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus goes to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. A sudden fear comes over him and he is in great distress. Like a loving child he speaks to his father: “Abba everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me….” (Mark 14:35-36).
Jesus’ own disciple, Judas, betrayed him. The other disciples abandoned him. People spit on Jesus. He is blindfolded and beaten. Even Peter rejects him three times. (Mark 14:53-65) The triumphal Palm Sunday refrain: “Hosanna! Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord” (Mark 11:9) is now like an old dream. The next day he appeared before Pilate and was again taken to be beaten, mocked, and ridiculed by the soldiers. They made fun of him as “King of the Judeans” and put a crown of thorns on his head. Even the chief priests and scribes mocked him.
Jesus was put on the cross and died in agony, crying out fearfully in a very human way: “My God, My God, why have you deserted me?” (Mark 15:1-37) But it does not end here.
The Roman centurion at the foot of the cross exclaims: “In truth this man was a son of God.” Three days later the young man at Jesus’ tomb proclaims: “He has risen. He is not here.”
These things happened two thousand years ago. They happen every day as well today. Mark’s Gospel is a narrative that was crafted and constructed to engage and encourage people to have faith in Jesus raised from the dead. Fear and uncertainty, if one allows them to take control, can disable, blind, and paralyze people; but Christianity is not a religion of fear. We are challenged to be alert and faithful to the Good News.
In Mark 8:18-21 Jesus reprimands his disciples: “Do you not yet understand? Have you no perception? Are your minds closed? Have you eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear?”
That passage resonated in my head today as I read that a church in Newfoundland, Pennsylvania is telling people to bring their semi-automatic rifles to a blessing ceremony that will be held at the church next week.
—Jack
The True Meaning of the Beatitudes
Reflection and an AT Home Liturgy for the Ascension
In the English-speaking world, for the most part, the weekday festivals of Christianity have all but disappeared.
So Ascension Thursday – which comes forty days after Easter Sunday – usually passes without a murmur outside the ranks of those who are very regular churchgoers.
It is passed over even in those countries where it is a holy day of obligation to attend Mass – such a strange concept to threaten people with being guilty of a sin if they do not go and joyfully thank God for his goodness!
So some bishops in different parts of the world have transferred Ascension Thursday to the following Sunday.
When churches are still closed
Religion is easy to remember on a Sunday, but there is just too much going on during a normal weekday to fit in one more thing. We all know the feeling: the week is full, and now something else comes up – and one recalls that the camel’s back was broken by adding another straw.
This year is different. Lockdown may be easing in many places, but we still have more time. We know that we must somehow organize our time differently, since cannot rely on the structures that have always worked before.
And in many places churches are still closed. This is a good time to think again about how we can celebrate Ascension Day in lockdown. This year it is this Thursday, May 21.
Listening to Luke
The entire background to this feast comes from just one early Christian writer: Luke. He ends his gospel – and the stories of the encounters with the risen Lord after Easter – with these words:
Then [Jesus] led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God (Lk 24:50-3).
Then Luke begins his second work, the Acts of the Apostles, with this:
In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen.
After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.
While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.
“This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”
So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.
They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:1-11).
Within Luke’s overarching vision of history, the ascension marks a key turning point from when the risen Christ was present visibly to one group of disciples gathered in and around Jerusalem to his being present among his disciples everywhere.
We can imagine Luke travelling from community to community, giving performances of his take on “the gospel” while seeking to show that all these churches were part of a network that made up the new people of God.
In each gathering he wanted to affirm that the risen Jesus had both left them – in the sense that they could not directly see him: ‘he was taken from their sight’ – but also that he was no longer confined to one place, one group or one moment. After the Ascension, he was there in the community now gathered and listening to Luke.
This year most of us cannot gather in big assemblies. We must celebrate in small groups if you are in lockdown with family or friends, or you are alone.
But the risen Lord’s presence is not confined: he is with you in lockdown – and there is no more appropriate moment to experience this anew than on Ascension Day! There is no more appropriate day in the whole liturgical year to remember the presence of the Christ among us.
Home liturgy around the table on Ascension Day
Here is a simple liturgy to celebrate when you gather to eat.
Leader:
It’s been 40 days since Easter Sunday, it is Ascension Day: the risen Lord is ‘rising upwards.’ So let’s recall what Luke says about this day.
Reader:
Choose either the longer passage above (from Acts) or the shorter one
(from Luke’s gospel).
Reader 2:
If people are comfortable with home liturgies, a second reader could read the other passage. If you do have both readings, the best sequence is the gospel reading followed by the one from Acts.
Leader or someone else:
Lord Jesus,
Bless us now as you blessed those gathered in Bethany
By asking the Father to hear our prayers
For all who are suffering from this virus
In a whole complex range of ways,
As well as for all who care for them,
And for us gathered here in your presence.
Alleluia!
This prayer can be your “grace before meals”. Then end the meal with a “grace after meals” such as this one:
God our Father,
We thank you for what we have enjoyed eating
And for our joy around this table.
Look on us gathered here in the presence of Jesus,
Risen from the dead and seated at your right hand,
And bless us on our journey.
We ask this through Christ our Lord. Alleluia!
In the Christian year the forty days between Easter Sunday and Ascension Thursday form a single prolonged feast: the key note in every prayer is ‘Alleluia’ (Praised be God!).
We sing this because the Father has raised Jesus from the tomb and given us, the People of God, new life.
Life, not death, has the last word! Praised be God!
Thomas O’Loughlin is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Eating Together, Becoming One: Taking Up Pope Francis’s Call to Theologians (Liturgical Press, 2019).
In the English-speaking world, for the most part, the weekday festivals of Christianity have all but disappeared.
So Ascension Thursday – which comes forty days after Easter Sunday – usually passes without a murmur outside the ranks of those who are very regular churchgoers.
It is passed over even in those countries where it is a holy day of obligation to attend Mass – such a strange concept to threaten people with being guilty of a sin if they do not go and joyfully thank God for his goodness!
So some bishops in different parts of the world have transferred Ascension Thursday to the following Sunday.
When churches are still closed
Religion is easy to remember on a Sunday, but there is just too much going on during a normal weekday to fit in one more thing. We all know the feeling: the week is full, and now something else comes up – and one recalls that the camel’s back was broken by adding another straw.
This year is different. Lockdown may be easing in many places, but we still have more time. We know that we must somehow organize our time differently, since cannot rely on the structures that have always worked before.
And in many places churches are still closed. This is a good time to think again about how we can celebrate Ascension Day in lockdown. This year it is this Thursday, May 21.
Listening to Luke
The entire background to this feast comes from just one early Christian writer: Luke. He ends his gospel – and the stories of the encounters with the risen Lord after Easter – with these words:
Then [Jesus] led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God (Lk 24:50-3).
Then Luke begins his second work, the Acts of the Apostles, with this:
In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen.
After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.
While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem, but to wait there for the promise of the Father.
“This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”
So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.
They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” (Acts 1:1-11).
Within Luke’s overarching vision of history, the ascension marks a key turning point from when the risen Christ was present visibly to one group of disciples gathered in and around Jerusalem to his being present among his disciples everywhere.
We can imagine Luke travelling from community to community, giving performances of his take on “the gospel” while seeking to show that all these churches were part of a network that made up the new people of God.
In each gathering he wanted to affirm that the risen Jesus had both left them – in the sense that they could not directly see him: ‘he was taken from their sight’ – but also that he was no longer confined to one place, one group or one moment. After the Ascension, he was there in the community now gathered and listening to Luke.
This year most of us cannot gather in big assemblies. We must celebrate in small groups if you are in lockdown with family or friends, or you are alone.
But the risen Lord’s presence is not confined: he is with you in lockdown – and there is no more appropriate moment to experience this anew than on Ascension Day! There is no more appropriate day in the whole liturgical year to remember the presence of the Christ among us.
Home liturgy around the table on Ascension Day
Here is a simple liturgy to celebrate when you gather to eat.
Leader:
It’s been 40 days since Easter Sunday, it is Ascension Day: the risen Lord is ‘rising upwards.’ So let’s recall what Luke says about this day.
Reader:
Choose either the longer passage above (from Acts) or the shorter one
(from Luke’s gospel).
Reader 2:
If people are comfortable with home liturgies, a second reader could read the other passage. If you do have both readings, the best sequence is the gospel reading followed by the one from Acts.
Leader or someone else:
Lord Jesus,
Bless us now as you blessed those gathered in Bethany
By asking the Father to hear our prayers
For all who are suffering from this virus
In a whole complex range of ways,
As well as for all who care for them,
And for us gathered here in your presence.
Alleluia!
This prayer can be your “grace before meals”. Then end the meal with a “grace after meals” such as this one:
God, our Creator,
We thank you for what we have enjoyed eating
And for our joy around this table.
Look on us gathered here in the presence of Jesus,
Risen from the dead and seated at your right hand,
And bless us on our journey.
We ask this through Christ our Lord. Alleluia!
In the Christian year the forty days between Easter Sunday and Ascension Thursday form a single prolonged feast: the key note in every prayer is ‘Alleluia’ (Praised be God!).
We sing this because the Father has raised Jesus from the tomb and given us, the People of God, new life.
Life, not death, has the last word! Praised be God!
Thomas O’Loughlin is a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Arundel and Brighton and professor of historical theology at the University of Nottingham (UK). His latest book is Eating Together, Becoming One: Taking Up Pope Francis’s Call to Theologians (Liturgical Press, 2019).