THE ASCENDING PROMISE

We often overlook Ascension Day. Of course, we recognize Jesus ascended. We know he is not physically here on earth and will one day will return. The Apostles’ Creed that so many of us regularly recite even lists Jesus’ ascension between his resurrection and returning. Perhaps that is why it is so often forgotten as so many in-between things are, but there is one more layer that is worth exploring.

By ascending into heaven Jesus has entrusted us to represent him here on earth, promising to return and hold us accountable for our actions while he was away. I wonder if we forget about his ascension because we would also rather forget about the responsibility he has given us. Jesus may have promised to return, that is his business, but we are hesitant to promise much in his place.

We may tell ourselves we do not make many promises because we only want to make promises we can keep. But shouldn’t that lead us to make keepable promises rather than few or no promises at all? There is something else lurking behind this fear, and Ascension Day is as good a time as any to think about it.

Sheep and Goats

It is fitting that the ascension is so often forgotten. By ascending into the clouds and out of sight, Jesus risks being forgotten and out of our minds as well. Philip Yancey links the ascension with Jesus’ parables at the end of the Gospel of Matthew. Each parable shares the theme of an authority figure either going away for a long time or taking too long to return. Meanwhile there is often a contrast between those who use a false kind of freedom* to do whatever they want while the authority figure is away and those who faithfully continue to do good.

This theme culminates in Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats, where the ultimate authority figure, the Son of Man in all his glory with all the angels with him, returns to judge those whom he entrusted to care for others while he was away. What they did or did not do for the least, Jesus says, they did or did not do to him. It is a sobering parable.

Yancey notes that in this parable there is no surprise that up until the end of days there would still be people who went hungry, thirsty, lonely, naked, sick, and imprisoned. The only surprises in the parable are that the sheep did not know that by serving the least they were serving Jesus and the goats likewise did not know that they were all the time letting Jesus suffer even more. In their response to the Son of Man, the goats clearly knew about the needs of the least among them, but they did not help them. They were likely fixated on other things.

Predictions and Promises

The Acts of the Apostles mentions the ascension at the very beginning. Jesus is eating with his disciples and tells them to stay put in Jerusalem and pray. He talks of a baptism with the Holy Spirit, prompting his disciples to ask if now is the time for Israel’s kingdom to be restored. In other words, is the risen Jesus finally going to kick Caesar off the throne. Jesus replies by saying that such predictions are not for them to know, but he promises that when the Spirit comes they will receive power and be Jesus’ witnesses not only in Jerusalem but throughout the earth.

He then ascends out of their sight into the clouds. Did their demand for predictions prompt him to leave? Who knows. Throughout his earthly ministry people demanded of Jesus explanations for seemingly random events (Luke 13:1-5) and predictive signs (Matt 12:38). His healing wonders and life-giving promises were not good enough.

What is it about predictions that capture our attention and imagination? Andy Crouch says predictions do not require any vulnerability. I can make them or believe them, be right or wrong about them, and not have to change one bit about my life in the meantime. But when I make a promise I now have a stake in the outcome because I am part of what will happen. We all know this, so our predictions might become many while our promises remain few.

The Promise of Pentecost

A mere ten days later Jesus fulfills his promise to give power to his disciples and baptize them with the Holy Spirit. There is a connection between his physical absence on earth and his spiritual presence through believers, which is why Jesus told his disciples it is better for them that he leaves. Throughout the Acts of the Apostles, Luke traces the spread of Jesus’ body, his church, from Jerusalem, to its surrounding regions, and then throughout the earth. It has even reached you and me. Such growth is only possible through the Spirit’s empowering presence in God’s people, promising to take God’s promises to every tribe, tongue, and nation.

As the first disciples, now Apostles, were inspired by the same Spirit to write new Holy Scriptures, I cannot help but notice that predictions are largely absent in their writings. Sometimes Paul shares travel plans or thinks out loud about when Jesus will return. Maybe they all privately wondered when the time would be for Jesus to replace Caesar on the throne as they had asked Jesus right before he ascended. They sometimes have to explain things about Jesus’ promise to return, but they do not worry much about predicting it. Thinking back to the parables from the end of Matthew, Jesus does not include any characters who care about predicting correctly when the authority figure will return, all that matters was that when he returned his people were found faithful.

The message the Apostles share in our Holy Scriptures is that Jesus promises to return. Time and again they speak of all of God’s promises: to return, to save, to adopt, to reward, and to judge. Peter calls them “great and precious promises,” and he uses them to remind God’s people to endure difficult times, suffering, hardships, and opposition. Were I shivering, bleeding, and lonely in prison, I imagine hearing a hollered prediction from a fellow captive about the timing of my release date would matter far less to me than the promise of the King of Kings to return for me. Moreover, in the meantime he promises never to leave me or forsake me. He even fulfills his promise by sending his people to care for me. By ascending, Jesus entrusts us with so much in his place. It is overwhelming to think about.

Empty Skies and Full Hearts

When Jesus ascends into the clouds the disciples strain their necks and squint their eyes, trying to get just one last glimpse of their Lord. While their focus is heavenward, suddenly down on earth were two angels who say to them: “Men of Galilee, […] why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).

They stopped staring into the sky and did not worry anymore about predictions about the kingdom. They stayed in Jerusalem and prayed, just as they were told. I bet they stared in the sky from time to time, replaying that scene in their heads. I was not even there and sometimes when the sky is bluer than blue I imagine what it would look like for Jesus to come back in it. And then I get back to work.

Like the disciples I have to remind myself not to get caught up with predictions, so I turn to promises—both God’s and mine. What am I going to do for the least among me, the very ones who are Jesus to me? What will I offer my family and friends, or even my enemies? Who will I invest in? How will I spend my time? What things will I say? What things will I do?

I cannot eradicate hunger, thirst, poverty, loneliness, or injustice on a global scale. But I can promise to seek out the least around me and help them in Jesus’ name. I can promise to use my words to build up instead of tear down. I can promise to practice giving forgiveness instead of just receiving it.

And once I ponder all of those promises I think of one more promise in the Holy Scriptures: “he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil 1:6b). A little later Paul reminds us that as we work out our salvation God is also at work within us the entire time. Or as Augustine says, “You ascended from before our eyes, and we turned back grieving, only to find you in our hearts.”

*I say false kind of freedom because in Christian theology true freedom is the same freedom God has, namely the ability to do what is good.

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