In the name of the Risen ☩ Lord. Amen.
It’s a joy to be with you all this evening to celebrate the Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ. You all are here, so I don’t need to explain why it is so crucial to our faith to mark the Principal Feasts of the Church with solemn worship. But I do thank you for being here to help us in being the Church and marking sacred time.
The Ascension, like all of the Feasts of the Church, isn’t about us, but rather is about God. The notion that worship is about God and not us shouldn’t be a surprising claim, but so often we tend to view these events as moral dictates or we narcissistically ask the question “Well, what does this have to do with me?” The obvious answer is that it has everything to do with us because we are nothing apart from God. An event like the Ascension reveals to us the true nature of the world, and so this event certainly has an impact on us. But the essence of the Feast of the Ascension is about Christ, any applicability to us is merely an accident of the Ascension.
While there is a time and a place for moral theology to be done in the pulpit, the Principal Feasts are not a time for that. Rather, these Feasts are about proclaiming and celebrating the way in which the Christ has been revealed in Jesus of Nazareth. It is only by entering into these mysteries of our faith that we are able to be transformed by them. So this is not the sort of sermon that is going to tell you what to do, as in “The angels said ‘Why do you stand looking up to heaven?’ Don’t you know that he is ascended and Christ has no body now but yours? So go and do good works.” Again, there’s nothing heretical in that sort of sermon, it just misses the point because it skips right over the glory of the Ascension to get to making it relevant to us.
The text that we heard this evening from Ephesians helps us to stay focused on the Ascension as a revealing of the glory of God in Christ. The Ascension, when focused on Christ, is about his ascending to the right hand of the Father; it is his enthronement. Scholars suggest that beginning with the phrase “God put this power to work in Christ…”, that St. Paul is quoting from an ancient enthronement hymn that would have been sung in the earliest Church. These verses extol the power and glory of God manifest in Jesus’ Resurrection. Jesus Christ has been seated at the right hand of God, above every power, every name, and is made to fill all in all.
If this is true, and we’ve gathered here because it is, then that changes everything. Christians often fill the pews on Christmas and Easter – when we claim that Christ took on flesh and was born and when Christ transcended that flesh by conquering Sin and Death – and those are certainly world-changing claims. But what the Ascension proclaims is no less essential or revolutionary – we are witnessing that Christ is on the throne of God, that he is actually sovereign over all the world, that he is in all things. This ascending to the throne of God is the culmination of the Incarnation and Resurrection, so the significance of the Ascension event cannot be overstated.
Some theologians speak of the Cosmic Christ and in the Orthodox tradition, many basilicas have a large icon of the Cosmic Christ known as the Pantokrator. That’s a word that means “Almighty” or “Ruler over all.” The word is a compound word that is made up of two Greek words, the word for “all” and the word for “to accomplish or sustain.” So just as Paul notes that Christ “fills all in all,” these Orthodox churches have huge depictions of this claim over the heads of the worshippers. It is a powerful reminder that we are all “under” Christ who sits enthroned in the power, majesty, and glory of God.
We so often say “Jesus Christ,” that it can be easy to forget what that phrase means and how radical and transformative it is. For one, “Christ” is not Jesus’ last name. “Christ” is a term that means “the anointed one;” it is the title for the savior and redeemer of the world. But when we treat “Christ” as a name, we lose the impact of this cornerstone of our faith. Theologian Karl Barth noted that what Paul is claiming in the passage from Ephesians is that Jesus is the fulfillment of all of God’s promises, desires, and intentions. As the Christ, he becomes meaning of the entire cosmos. And so that word “Christ” is an immensely profound one for our faith.
As St. Paul is beginning this letter to the Ephesians, he writes, “I pray that God… may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know Jesus, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you.” Our hope is rooted in coming to know Jesus, and coming to know him only comes through the Spirit of wisdom and revelation. In other words, Paul realizes that if you look around at the world, it might not appear that Jesus is the Christ. It might look like the Emperor is in charge, or the President, or your boss, or your addictions, or your fears, or the stock market, or your self-criticism, or the expectations of others. There are so many forces out there that want to be in charge of us, that want our loyalty, that demand our lives.
But through the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, we come to know and trust that Jesus alone sits on the throne of God. The same Jesus who was born in a lowly manger, who fed the hungry, who taught us about loving at all costs, who endured the Cross, who burst forth from the tomb, that very same Jesus now reigns as Christ over all of Creation. It is the grace of God to give us this revelation because it absolutely changes everything. If Jesus is on the throne, then everything is going to work out, love is the winning side, and grace abounds.
Ephesus was a major city in Paul’s day – it was a political hub of the region and was the home to many cult religions. For Paul to claim that Jesus is the Christ who is the head over all things and fills all things was a dangerous, subversive, and radical claim. To say that Jesus is Lord means that Caesar is not, nor is Mithra. To say that Jesus is Lord means that he is the only one to whom we owe allegiance. To say that the Christ fills all things means that there is within us and among us the transformative power to reveal the Kingdom of God as the truest nature of this world. To those in power, this is an extremely threatening message.
One way to deal with this threat is to eliminate it – and history is littered with examples of persecution against the Church. But the more insidious way to deal with Christ’s reign is to domesticate it. This is the context in which we find ourselves. The Christianity that is peddled in our culture is a weak and inconsequential version of faith. One of the demons in CS Lewis’ Screwtape Letters says “A moderated religion is as good for us as no religion at all – and more amusing.” The Feast of the Ascension is our antidote against having a moderated religion.
If we are going to claim that Jesus has ascended to the throne of God to rule over all things, to fill all things, and to bring all things to their completion, then nothing can remain the same. The Christian life must be distinguishable from the powers and dominions which Christ is far above. And so for the Christian, we affirm the separation of Church and State, not because we think both have a place, but because we realize that the State is worthless. For the Christian, we find value not in property or net worth, but rather value is rooted in dignity, humble servanthood, and love. For the Christian, freedom and self-determination are not the goals of life, but rather obedience and submission to him who reigns on high is our response to the Lordship of Jesus. For the Christian, nothing is profane, but rather every moment, every person, every interaction is an opportunity to encounter the Christ who fills all things. For the Christian, we are subjects of Jesus Christ, who as ascended far into the heavens and is seated at the right hand of God.
To borrow a phrase from a book title, this means that in this world, we are “resident aliens.” As foreigners in this world, the world should seem a bit foreign to us and the world should think that we seem foreign. A Christianity that fits into a platform of a political party is not foreign. A Christianity that is silent in the face of war, poverty, or racism is not foreign. A Christianity that is not being rejected or persecuted is not foreign. When someone learns that you are a Christian at a dinner party, the response shouldn’t be “How nice,” but rather that person should think “Oh, one of them,” and then decides it’s a good time to go get some more food. Because if Jesus really is the Christ who has ascended to the throne of God, our allegiance to him should make us completely foreign to the ways of this world. We are aliens because our hope is rooted not in any of the powers of this world, but in the love of God which sits enthroned above. Because Jesus is the Christ, we can be confident in our hopes, we are secure in our salvation, we can trust in love above all else, we can be boldly different as resident aliens.
I love that here at St. Luke’s we have a reminder of this central aspect of our faith in the glorious Ascension window that greets us for worship. May it always remind us that Christ has ascended and of his lordship over our lives. Thanks be to God for revealing to us that our salvation and belonging is not rooted in worldly powers and dominions, but rather in the gracious and merciful rule of Jesus, the Christ, who after his life, death, and Resurrection has ascended into the heavens to fill all things as the head over all. Amen.
