It’s a bit confusing as to what we are celebrating in this feast. Close analysis of the text seems to show that Jesus ‘went to the Father’ immediately or very soon after resurrection. The mere fact that there is overlapping of times and events would indicate that it is not about a solemn and glorious ‘ascension’, in spite of the emphasis in that direction in the second reading. In fact, for
Matthew it is a formal commissioning to ‘go and make disciples of all nations’.

Luke’s account in Acts already vibrates with the urgency of the time. Reading through the
Doings of the Apostles over these weeks I’ve been struck by how light and energetic the
account is. An atmosphere of excitement runs through the narrative as leaders speak, crowds
join, apostles are sent to distant places, new communities are formed, envoys visit and
confirm, always the spirit dancing about like the will-o-the-wisp that Jesus promised to send.
Not a fire, but a flame that now as then flickers above the miasma of wars, tsunamis,
tornadoes – enlightening, lightening, levening as yeast lightens the dough.

Also, through these past weeks, as our contemplation has followed the lines of John’s account
of Jesus’ last meal with his friends, we might have noticed the theme of ‘going away’ and
‘coming back’. It’s like a breathing out and breathing in: now you will not see me and then
you will see me again...

The ‘ascension’ celebrates a definitive phase of ‘going away’. The time of those strange
encounters is over. They have been something more than apparitions and something less than
the old familiar times along the roads of Galilee. Now Jesus comes to them for a last time,
and as commentators will point out, oddly Matthew’s gospel ends in his promise to be ‘with
you until the end of the world’ - and seems to forget to tell of the actual departure.

‘Behold, I am with you always’ :  Matthew is harking back to the beginning of his gospel
where the one whose birth was announced by an angel is called Emmanuel, which literally
means God-in-our-hands.  This is worth a pause...

'When they saw him they fell down before him, though some hesitated.'  Some translations say Some doubted, or simply they doubted. It is the same word used when Jesus said  Oh ye of little faith (Mt 6:30). Perhaps it is not that some doubted and others didn't, but that they were all pretty shaky in their little faith. Has anything changed? Should it be different now? Maybe not. A questioning faith can be a lively faith while a subservient blind faith may be quite moribund.

‘While meeting with the them, he enjoined them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for “the promise of the Father about which you have heard me speak; for John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.”’

Liturgically, the coming week is a time of waiting for the Spirit, and therefore of quiet inner
preparation, of opening our minds and hearts. John baptised with water for washing away of
sin; Jesus baptises with the fire of the Spirit for en-loving all who can be open to life in truth.

Much is been made of this contrast, highlighting the new Way of the Spirit of Jesus, the New Creation. Clearly the early christians were at pains to organise themselves to ensure order, harmony and clear direction among themselves. Without order internal conflicts will sap the energy of the communities and eviscerate the commitment of the willing followers of The Way. Our present situation, however, displays an arthritic institution in which the sinews and joints have become hardened over time. Let the fire of the Spirit flit lightly over us, enlivening and enloving till we become effective lights showing the way to our society in our time.