Taking us away, leaving us behind – human experience of Christ’s Ascension

Forty days into the Easter season, we hit Ascension Day when, mission accomplished, Christ returns heavenwards to reign in power as God’s right-hand Son-of-Man (Acts 1). I sometimes think that this story must do more to discourage Christian faith than any other in the New Testament. The cartoon-like quality of Jesus ascending vertically through the clouds without a jetpack, must be for many a gargantuan step down Incredulity Boulevard. But I think that St Luke paints the picture he does for a reason.

It is easy to misunderstand what is going on in this story, whatever imagery is used. Even the apostles are chastised by the angels for staring at the sky as Jesus disappears, and we should not focus on the disappearance as if it is the main point of the story. The most important thing is that Christ is taking our human nature with him into heaven. If Christmas is about the Word of God becoming flesh, the Ascension is about Christ ‘taking the Manhood into God’, as the Athanasian Creed puts it. He is not so much disappearing as taking us with him, to be mystically yoked to him for all eternity through the human nature we share with him.

This means that we humans are, in Christian understanding, really quite a big deal, creatures of immense dignity and value. We are certainly more than soulless, if extremely clever, animals; more than Thomas Hobbes’ perpetually-warring individuals whose life is ‘nasty, brutish and short’. We are more than just the ‘miserable sinners’ of much Christian caricature. We are sinners, yes, but made ‘in the image and likeness of God’ (Gen 1.26f.), with rational and moral souls. We are to love God and love our neighbour, exercising our ample ability to participate in God’s creative work on earth, exercising the proper ‘dominion and stewardship’ God commands (Gen 1.28).

This makes the Christian life one long voyage of rebellion, repentance and renewal, all made possible by sharing in ‘the riches of Christ’s glorious inheritance’, and by relying on ‘the immeasurable greatness of his power’ (Ephesians 1.18f.). I reckon St Luke depicts the apostles as gawping into the skies at Jesus’ disappearing ankles to teach them (and us) that, by enthroning Christ in heaven, God is putting all things under his feet, making him the head over all things’ (Ephesians 1.22). No matter how high and mighty we humans may consider ourselves, we are nothing compared to Christ, yet are made of immensely high worth by sharing our nature with his, even when he is taken into the Godhead. While we remain on earth, inspired and strengthened by the Holy Spirit, we carry out his work of love. It is a vast task but, by God’s mercy, we may digest this strange story as slowly as we need, and perform its consequences like methodical Scouts and Guides, one day at a time, one good deed at a time.