Christ Ascends, Yet Remains
A Homily I wrote for the Feast of the Ascension
When we hear “Ascension,” many of us imagine departure.
Jesus rising upward.
Leaving earth.
Going somewhere far away.
But the Church proclaims something much stranger—
and much more beautiful.
Christ does not leave humanity behind.
He carries humanity into the very heart of God.
Flesh enters glory.
Wounds enter glory.
Human tears enter glory.
Human longing enters glory.
Human life is forever changed.
The Ascension is not absence—it is the exaltation of human nature.
Saint Athanasius of Alexandria teaches:
“God became human so that humanity might become filled with divine life.”
And this means that your life matters deeply to God.
Your body is holy.
Your grief is holy.
Your labor is holy.
Your friendships are holy.
Your table is holy.
Your tears are holy.
Your joy is holy.
Your longing for meaning is holy.
Nothing authentically human is foreign to God, because Christ has carried humanity into divine life.
Yet the Ascension does not mean Christ has become distant.
He is no longer present in only one place.
He is mysteriously present in every place where love becomes real.
In bread blessed and shared.
In prayer offered with sincerity.
In song that opens the heart.
In silence that makes room for God.
In compassion freely given.
In mercy shown.
In burdens carried together.
In gentleness.
In forgiveness.
In welcome.
Christ ascends—
yet Christ remains.
In the Acts of the Apostles, the angels ask the disciples:
“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”
We can spend our whole lives looking upward—
seeking wisdom,
seeking experience,
seeking spiritual depth—
but Christ continually sends us back toward one another.
Toward the lonely.
Toward the wounded.
Toward the searching.
Toward the forgotten.
Toward the grieving.
Toward those hungry for belonging.
Toward those who wonder if there is room for them.
Because heaven is not only somewhere beyond death.
Heaven begins wherever divine love becomes tangible.
Where wounds are tended.
Where strangers become family.
Where meals are shared.
Where mercy triumphs over judgment.
Where truth is spoken gently.
Where burdens are carried together.
Where human dignity is honored.
Where people are received as sacred.
Wherever love becomes flesh—
Christ is there.
The Ascension is not simply what happened to Jesus.
It is what God intends for humanity.
Lifted into divine life—
and sent back into the world
to become places of healing, mercy, communion, and love.
Christ ascends—
yet remains—
and now seeks to become visible in us.
Amen.