Easter and the Ascension of the Lord
are times that cause struggle in me.
They cause struggle because: How do we look at those times outside of
the historical view? “[Easter is when] we
commemorate our Lord’s Resurrection from the dead, just as he had foretold it
(Mark 10:33–34). In its liturgical
calendar, the Church celebrates many feasts, but this one is by far the
greatest and the most important. On the
first day of the week, after our Lord’s crucifixion, death, and burial, the
holy women went to anoint his body. But
they found the tomb empty. When Peter
and John arrived, they also found it empty. But it was only when they had entered the tomb
and had seen that all was in order that they remembered that this had been
foretold to them (see John 20:1–9). There
were no human witnesses to the actual event of Christ’s resurrection, but later
that evening the apostles and disciples did encounter the risen Lord; they saw
the wounds in his hands, feet, and side, spoke with him, and enjoyed his
company. That the Lord was risen was to
them an indubitable fact. St. Paul tells
us: ‘If Christ is not risen, then your faith is in vain’ (1 Cor. 15:17). If Christ is not risen, then he remains dead
and his teaching and life have been a deliberate deception, and those who had
believed in him were deplorably duped. But
the disciples have unanimously agreed: ‘We have seen the Lord.’ Christ’s resurrection is the key to
understanding his entire life; without it, his life would have been a failure. But because the resurrection did take place,
it becomes the pledge of our own future resurrection into glory. Christ’s resurrection from the dead is the
ultimate and definitive proof of his divinity.”[1] This is all very true; however, how much joy
is it causing in us every day of our lives?
Because of his resurrection, we know we must face him in judgment. Does this cause us joy or fear? It should cause us joy; nonetheless, why do
most people fear death? If it causes us
joy, we should look forward to death, because death is the venue to our coming
face-to-face with our Savior. However, I
assume many people go to traffic court or civil court, being sued, that believe
they have nothing to fear, that they are in the right; nonetheless, the judge
rules against them. Just because they
have the “faith” that they are in the right does not make it so. Likewise, in the back of our minds rests this
fear of face The Judge, the one who—although ruling with mercy—also rules in
justice. Therefore, for most—if they are
truly honest with themselves—face that day with more fear than joy.
During the Last Supper, our Lord
tells the apostles: “‘Truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.’ And they were very sorrowful, and began to say
to him one after another, ‘Is it I, Lord?’ He answered, ‘He who has dipped his hand in
the dish with me, will betray me. The
Son of man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of
man is betrayed! It would have been
better for that man if he had not been born.’ Judas, who betrayed him, said, ‘Is
it I, Master?’”[2] This
is a fulfillment of Psalm 41:9 and 55:13.
Pope Benedict XVI tells us that, in the Greek Bible, the word used “eating”
in those passages is the word used by Jesus in the great “bread of life”
discourse for “eating” his flesh and blood, that is, receiving the sacrament of
the Eucharist (Jn 6:54-58).[3] He goes on to remind us: “So the psalm verse
(41:9) casts a prophetic shadow over the Church of the evangelist’s own day, in
which the Eucharist was celebrated, and indeed over the Church of all times:
Judas’ betrayal was not the last breach of fidelity that Jesus would
suffer. ‘Even my bosom friend, in whom I
trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me’ (Ps 41:9). The breach of friendship extends into the
sacramental community of the Church, where people continue to take ‘his bread’
and to betray him … [At] this hour,
Jesus took upon himself the betrayal of all ages, the pain caused by betrayal
in every era, and he endured the anguish of history to the bitter end.”[4] Therefore, the threat remains for us: “Woe to
that man by whom the Son of man is betrayed!”[5] The early Church father, Origen, speaking of
the apostles asking, “Is it I,” says: “This … shews the goodness of the
disciples, that they believed Christ’s words more than their own consciences, for they began each to say, Lord, is it I? For they knew by what Jesus had taught them
that human nature is readily turned to evil and is in continual struggle with the niters of the darkness of this world;
(Eph. 6:12.) whence they ask as in fear, for by reason of our weakness the
future is an object of dread to us.”[6] Hence, each of us must ask, “Is it I, Lord?” for
we must also be conscious of human nature and must fear our own fragility.
We need to recall that, upon our
Lord’s resurrection, there was a lot of apprehension. In reading the passages, we come to the
assessment that there was not a lot of joy, but mixed feelings and fear. The same holds true today because “He who has
dipped his hand in the dish with me, will betray me,”[7] and “Woe to that man by whom
the Son of man is betrayed!”[8]
Pope Benedict goes on to instruct
us: “For [St.] John, what happened to Judas is beyond psychological
explanation. He has come under the
dominion of another. Anyone who breaks
off friendship with Jesus, casting off his ‘easy yoke,’ does not attain
liberty, does not become free, but succumbs to other powers. To put it another way, he betrays this
friendship because he is in the grip of another power to which he has opened
himself. True, the light shed by Jesus
into Judas’ soul was not completely extinguished. He does take a step toward conversion: ‘I
have sinned,’ he says to those who commissioned him. He tries to save Jesus, and he gives the
money back (Mt 27:3-5). Everything pure
and great that he had received from Jesus remained inscribed on his soul—he could
not forget it.”[9]
Human nature makes us, when we
become of uneasy conscience, to justify our actions, that what we did, or about
to do, is not bad because we have a good reason to do it. Therefore, I do not think it would be absurd
to conclude that, for some reason, Judas justified his actions to the point
that he did not consider himself as the betrayer. How often we justify our anger, justify our
pride, our hatred. It is human
nature. Therefore, why is not possible
that Judas justified his actions also?
Because none of the disciples realized at the time that Judas was the
betrayer—they only realized this afterwards—must have also dipped their hands
into the dish with our Lord (Mt 26:23), and the words “You have said so,”
although applying to Judas, they considered could have be meant of them. In fact, in their deserting him afterwards,
they did also betray him.
Now, it is true that Judas, in the
end despaired. Pope Benedict says: “[Judas’]
second tragedy—after the betrayal—is that he can no longer believe in
forgiveness. His remorse turns into
despair. Now he sees only himself and
his darkness; he no longer sees the light of Jesus, which can illumine and
overcome the darkness. He shows us the
wrong type of remorse: the type that is unable to hope, that sees only its own
darkness, the type that is destructive and in no way authentic. Genuine remorse is marked by the certainty of
hope born of faith in the superior power of the light that was made flesh in
Jesus. John concludes the passage about
Judas with these dramatic words: ‘After receiving the morsel, he immediately
went out and it was night’ (13:30).
Judas goes out—in a deeper sense.
He goes into the night; he moves out of light into darkness: the ‘power
of darkness’ has taken hold of him (cf. Jn 3:19; Lk 22:53).”[10] The thought will probably cross our mind: “This
will not happen to me; I will always hope in Jesus’ mercy.” Nonetheless, we must remain as the apostles,
believing Christ’s words more than our conscience. We are frail, having no strength. Thinking is not doing. Therefore, we pray to the One who has the
strength to keep us.
“Forty days after our Lord’s
resurrection and after accomplishing his mission on earth, he gathered his
disciples on a mount outside Jerusalem and, after a final discourse, departed
from them, ascending body and soul into Heaven. [St.] Mark describes this event in the fewest
of words: ‘After speaking to them, the Lord Jesus was taken up into Heaven and
took his seat at God’s right hand’ (16:19). This mystery embraces three moments: (1)
Christ’s leaving his disciples, who are to continue his mission on earth; (2)
his triumphant entrance into Heaven, whence he had come; and finally (3) his
sitting at the Father’s right hand in glory. This departure of Christ in his humanity was
to be the inauguration of a new presence, one more profound and fruitful, for
he had said: ‘If I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I
will send him to you’ (John 16:7). This
promise was fulfilled ten days later with the descent of the Holy Spirit. This feast of Christ’s Ascension nourishes and
increases our hope of attaining Heaven, for he ascended there to prepare a
place for us (see John 14:2).”[11] We can eat healthy, but we are not going to
sense the nourishment. Hence, we are probably
not realizing the nourishing effects of the Ascension. The glaring question becomes: Does the
Ascension really increase our hope of attaining Heaven? In the vivid sense, it should, but it
probably does not. I think most of us
see it as a historical event. Nonetheless,
because it is nourishing, our hope also increases subtly, without us realizing
it—if we are continuing in Christ. Once
again, we must not rely upon our conscience but upon the word of Christ, that
he will keep us (cf. Jn 17). Even if,
per chance, we view God as harsh, exacting upon us what will be right, we must
not allow that to cause us to do nothing.
We must not become like the servant who was given one talent, seeing his
master to be a hard man, and “bury” our “talent” (Mt 25:14-30); we must pray to
the One who has mercy and has the strength to re-create us.
Now, Jesus ascends “to prepare a
place for us.” St. Augustine tells us: “As
the disciples were afraid for themselves … He adds, In My Father’s house are many mansions, by way of an assurance to
them in their trouble, that they might with confidence and certainty look
forward, after all their trials, to dwelling together with Christ in the
presence of God. For, though one man is
bolder, wiser, juster, holier than another, yet no one shall be removed from
that house of God, but each receive a mansion suited to his deserts. The penny indeed which the householder paid to
the laborers, who worked in his vineyard, was the same to all: for life
eternal, which this penny signifies, is of the same duration to all. But there may be many mansions, many degrees
of dignity, in that life, corresponding to people’s deserts.”[12] St. Gregory is in agreement, for he relates: “The
many mansions agree with the one penny, because, though one may rejoice more
than another, yet all rejoice with one and the same joy, arising from the
vision of their Maker.”[13] We must conclude that these places, these
mansions, are not literal houses. In
order for us to have an increase in our faith by virtue of Easter and the
Ascension—and Pentecost—we need to view these places as God preparing us:
cleansing us and making us grow, with our cooperation. The servant with the one talent did not
cooperate with the grace of his master giving him the one talent; we must not
imitate him as a result of seeing our numerous sins. This is the very reason Christ gives us the
Sacrament of Reconciliation. Sometimes God
shows us our sins, not that we will despair, but that we see our frailty and
turn to him who has the strength to transform us. Not despairing of the fact that we are the
worst of sinners, like the tax collector, not even able to raise our eyes to
heaven but beating our breast, we cry out, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” We
will go down to our house justified.[14] This is Christ preparing a place for us. The Sacraments are Christ preparing a place
for us, by sending us the Holy Spirit.
We confess that we are no better than Judas; however, unlike Judas, we
repent with the hope of mercy. “From one
man”—Abraham—"and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as
the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.”[15] Because of our sins, we are also as good as
dead, but God will make us bear fruit also, as many “as the innumerable grains
of sand by the seashore.” This is God
preparing a place for us.
By
faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received
the promises was ready to offer up his only son, of whom it was said, “Through
Isaac shall your descendants be named.” He considered that God was able to raise
men even from the dead; hence, he did receive him back and this was a symbol.[16] The “symbol” is the resurrection of our
Lord. After the “resurrection” of Isaac,
we read that Sarah dies, is buried, and Abraham seeks a wife for his son (Gen
23-24). This “wife” is Rebekah, who is a
type of the Church. Isaac, of course, is
a type of Christ. Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren; and the
Lord granted his prayer, and Rebekah his wife conceived. The children struggled
together within her; and she said, “If it is thus, why do I live?” So, she went
to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said to her, “Two nations are in your
womb, and two peoples, born of you, shall be divided; the one shall be stronger
than the other, the elder shall serve the younger.”[17] In order for this passage to beneficial to us
in our daily lives, we can see the “elder” as being our human nature and the “younger”
is us in Baptism. In Baptism, we receive
the divine nature of our Father, through Christ. Afterwards comes this struggle between the
flesh and the spirit.
… The heir, as long as he is a child, is no better than a slave, though
he is the owner of all the estate; but he is under guardians and trustees until
the date set by the father. So with us; when we were children, we were slaves
to the elemental spirits of the universe. But when the time had fully come, God
sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were
under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are
sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba!
Father!” So, through God you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then
an heir.[18] … Now we, brethren, like Isaac, are
children of promise. But as, at that
time, he who was born according to the flesh persecuted him who was born
according to the Spirit, so it is now.[19] Although there are not two nations in us, there
are two natures. We must not allow the
human nature to win; nonetheless, we do not have the strength to overcome. In order to overcome the human nature, we
must utilize prayer and the Church, partaking of the Sacraments our Lord has
given her.
Rebekah had twins in her womb. Esau was born first; then, Jacob. Esau is
Edom.[20] Edom means “red; red earth.”[21] Therefore,
it portrays our human nature, because we come from the earth. Upon reading Scripture, we find that the
prophets prophesy the demise of Edom.
Nevertheless, by faith Isaac
invoked future blessings on Jacob and Esau.[22] From this, we can ascertain that, through the
destruction of the sins of the human nature, we will be blessed. This is Christ preparing a place for us. …Through
the Spirit, by faith, we wait for the hope of righteousness.[23] For you
were called to freedom, brethren; only do not use your freedom as an
opportunity for the flesh, but through love be servants of one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word,
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” But, if you bite and devour one another, take
heed that you are not consumed by one another. But I say, walk by the Spirit, and do not
gratify the desires of the flesh. For
the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit
are against the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, to prevent you from
doing what you would.[24]
This is the fulfillment of Easter and
the Ascension in us. Through the Church
and the Sacraments, we know that Christ is doing a work in us. Therefore, we listen to the Church—because Christ
is the Head, and the Head will not deceive the Body. We confess, yearning for the time we will be
like Christ. Those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of
the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the
things of the Spirit. To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the
mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For
the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to
God’s law, indeed it cannot; and those who are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh, you are in the
Spirit, if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have
the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But, if Christ is in you, although your bodies
are dead because of sin, your spirits are alive because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the
dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will give life to
your mortal bodies also through his Spirit who dwells in you. So then, brethren, we are debtors, not to the
flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you live according to the flesh
you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body you
will live. For all who are led by the
Spirit of God are sons of God.[25] The battle we undergo between the flesh and
the spirit is a taking up of our cross, and fighting this battle ensures us
that Christ is preparing a place for us, that Easter and the Ascension is
taking place within us.
[1]
Joseph N. Tylenda, Saints and Feasts
of the Liturgical Year, (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University
Press, 2003), 53.
[2]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Mt 26:21–25.
[3] Pope Benedict XVI; Jesus
of Nazareth, Holy Week: From the Entrance Into Jerusalem to the Resurrection,
p. 67.
[4] Ibid., pp. 67-68
[5]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Mt 26:24.
[6]
Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea:
Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers: St.
Matthew, ed. John Henry Newman, (Oxford: John Henry Parker,
1841), 1:888.
[7]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Mt 26:23.
[8] Ibid.,
Mt 26:24.
[9] Pope Benedict XVI; Jesus
of Nazareth, Holy Week: From the Entrance Into Jerusalem to the Resurrection,
pp. 68-69
[10] Ibid.
[11]
Joseph N. Tylenda, Saints and Feasts
of the Liturgical Year, (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University
Press, 2003), 94.
[12]
Thomas Aquinas, Catena Aurea:
Commentary on the Four Gospels, Collected out of the Works of the Fathers: St.
John, ed. John Henry Newman, (Oxford: John Henry Parker, 1845),
4:449–450.
[13] Ibid.,
4:450.
[14]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Lk 18:13–14.
[15] Ibid.,
Heb 11:12.
[16] Ibid.,
Heb 11:17-19.
[17] Ibid.,
Ge 25:21–23.
[18] Ibid.,
Ga 4:1–7.
[19] Ibid.,
Ga 4:28–29.
[20] Ibid.,
Ge 36:8.
[21]
Stelman Smith and Judson Cornwall, The exhaustive
dictionary of Bible names, 1998, 62.
[22]
Catholic Biblical Association (Great Britain), The Holy Bible:
Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, (New York: National
Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, 1994), Heb 11:20.
[23] Ibid.,
Ga 5:5.
[24] Ibid.,
Ga 5:13–17.
[25] Ibid.,
Ro 8:5–14.
