GRAVITY

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily is, “Gravity.”

Interesting: that’s the reality that hit me as I began to reflect upon ascension – just the opposite of gravity.

Interesting: I also found myself taking a poetic approach to this theme of Ascension.

Well, as you might have noticed, today’s readings are rather poetic.

And here in the Northern Hemisphere this feast of the Ascension takes place when all is springing, greening, flowering, outward and upward. In Spring the earth is very poetic.

Gravity….

What goes up, must come down. Is that always true? Does the Law of Gravity always work – here on Planet Earth?

THE FEAST OF THE ASCENSION

I’ve read a couple of times that the theology of Ascension – the feast we’re celebrating today – the Ascension of Christ into heaven from earth – from hanging around here with his disciples in some mysterious ways – and then moving back or forward into the hereafter – has a lot more study and development to go through. And that’s a reality in the history of Christianity and theology. It takes centuries – prayer and reflection – development – nuancing – rereading the Scriptures – rereading the writings of the Fathers of the Church – and those who came after them – so as to understand bit by bit these illusive mysteries in God – the Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

And talking about mystery, there is the great mystery that the Son – the Second Person in this Trinity – is also human besides being Divine. We grasp the human; hopefully we ascend to the Divine.

Gravity – to ponder from time to time the heavy reality of God – and to ascend – to rise – to get up – to stand up after that pondering – that kneeling or sitting down – that kind of praying – with newness of life – with lightness of spirit.

And I’m assuming that’s one hope of this feast – that we leave church today – with bounce and leap of Spirit – but not completely up in the air – that’s unrealistic – but down to earth – but with a renewed mission, plan, hope, to make this a better world because of our presence and life in it.

I think that’s a possible flow of prayer and thought from today’s readings: looking up – then getting back down to business. Isn’t that what Luke is saying in today’s first reading from Acts and today’s Gospel – that life has it’s ups and downs – mountains and valleys – as well as the plains – the flat dull of life at times – and then to get a bounce and a lift – because if we flat line it, we can be dead before we’re dead?

THE BOOK OF GENESIS

We don’t use The Book of Genesis for this feast, but I think it’s important background for this feast. The Book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible, has God coming down to earth. Genesis begins with earth – God getting down to earth and creating and forming and sculpting us up out of the dirt and mud of earth – and breathing “ruach,” the Hebrew word for Spirit into us – that we too might experience life – togetherness – twoness, threeness, Trinity – family – community – being a person – having intelligence – imagination – creativity – play – laughter – joy – future – possibilities – forgiveness – gracefulness – foreverness – eternity – the whole mystery and gamut of being a person.

The Book of Genesis says we are created in the image and likeness of God. God does not want to be alone – so God created us.

We don’t want to be alone and so we work and hope for relationships with others – marriage, friendships, neighbors – and hopefully a relationship with God.

The Book of Genesis says God loved to be with his creations – Adam and Eve – Hebrew words for the first male and female – and to walk and talk with them in the cool of the evening in the Garden God created.

Genesis paints with words the deepest dreams of human beings – the desire for paradise – everything going right – so we too can say what God says, “And it is good!”

But Genesis also paints with words the deepest nightmares of human beings – brother killing brother – eating forbidden fruit – being thrown out of paradise – a flood that destroys everything – as well as discovering, “And all went wrong!”

To me the two heaviest, gravest, toughest texts in the whole Bible are: Genesis 6: 6 and Matthew 26:24b.

Genesis 6:6 “And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.”

Matthew 26: 24b – about Judas – “It would have been better for that one not to have been born.”

When parents feel that – or say that – that’s grave. That’s deadly.

And underneath all this is the gift of freedom. We humans are given the gift and power of being able to make free choices.

And give people freedom and they can make gardens or junkyards. They can liter or make lovely. They can choose to destroy – rather than to rise, to ascend, to higher aspirations.

So the gift of freedom – choice – comes with the possibility of great joy as well as great grief.

These are central realities to what makes human beings human – that we can climb, keep evolving, ascending to the Trinity.

I love the first book of the Bible – because it spells out in poetry – what I see happening every day – with us males and females.

God wants to walk and talk and be with us in this garden called Earth – and God cries when we destroy it – and each other.

Genesis – that first book of the Bible – says all these things.

God wants us to rise – to ascend higher and higher and higher.

Evolution – rising from earth – to see humans choosing life – choosing to rise - to stand on our own two feet – these steps humans can make, the human dance, gives God great delight.

Devolution – falling on our face – making a mess of our life – gives God great sadness.

It’s the same with parents – seeing their children star on stage or field or in academics – or just in being neat kids – gives moms and dads great delight. And the opposite gives them great fright.

And when we fail, lucky for us – God doesn’t give up.

We can read the Jewish scriptures or the Parables of Jesus and read how God sent prophet after prophet to challenge us to rise – to ascend – to do our best – and too often we kill prophets – especially the Son sent by the Father with the hope: “Surely they will listen to my Son.” [Cf. Mark 12:1-11]

CHRIST
Christ – Christianity – proclaims there is more – there is this call for ascension – here and hereafter.

Christ was degraded, beaten, abused, made to carry his cross to his place of death – and thrown down on the ground and nailed to a cross and then raised up against a dark sky – and cursed some more and then dies and is buried.

Christ was one of us – experiencing the ups and downs of life – in dramatic messy scenes.

Christ is also one of God – experiencing resurrection and ascension after death.

THE ASCENSION

The Ascension celebrates hope – gives us hope – that we – even if we fall, we can rise and ascend to the Father – who created us for forever.

The Ascension is spelt out in today’s Gospel – Jesus is going home to the Father.

The Ascension for us is spelt out in today’s first reading: okay Christ has gone. Now let’s get back down the hill and get back down to work.

Gravity. Go down that hill and do the stuff that I have done.

Love one another as I have loved you.

I understand love as "love in spite of". Love in spite of – in spite of the crush and crumble of stuff and situations, body, spirit – broken lives – broken families at times – sickness – loss of job – is the way to ascend.

Don’t you love it when you see a couple 46 years married and it’s obvious to everyone, these two love each other in spite of the wrinkles and the love handles – and that they have heard each other’s stories a thousand times – and they still laugh and smile at the right time.

Love in spite of gravity – aging – sagging – bending – stooping over – aches and pains - cancer in the prostate or breast – is the way to ascend. While aging, while gravity is winning, while the grave starts to come into sight or focus, this couple or this person knows there is ascension from the grave because of Christ.

CONCLUSION

So this feast of the ascension is an Easter feast, a resurrection feast, that yes we die – but as Christians we hope in the hereafter – in the next life.

I know you’re not supposed to do it ecologically and for a few other reasons, but I still love it when families release balloons on the anniversary of the death of a loved one and everyone stands there looking up at the sky.

I loved it when I went to my brother-in-law’s sister Marge’s funeral and one of her daughters released a whole strip of live butterflies.

I loved it at another funeral when they released a half-dozen white birds – who flew off into the sky and all watched them as they ascended and disappeared.

And then everyone turned and went back to living everyday life. Amen.