Dom Prosper Gueranger:
The sun of the fortieth day has
risen in all his splendour. The earth which shook with gladness at
the birth of our Emmanuel (Psalms xcv. xcvi. xcvii.)now thrills with
a strange emotion. The divine series of the mysteries of the Man-God
is about to close. Heaven has caught up the joy of earth. The Angelic
Choirs are preparing to receive their promised King, and their
Princes stand at the Gates, that they may open them when the signal
is given of the mighty Conqueror’s
approach. The holy souls that were liberated from Limbo on the
morning of the Resurrection are hovering round Jerusalem, waiting for
the happy moment when Heaven’s
gate, closed by Adam’s
sin, will be thrown open and they will enter in company with their
Redeemer: a few hours more, and then to Heaven! Meanwhile, our Risen
Jesus has to visit His Disciples and bid them farewell, for they are
to be left for some years longer in this vale of tears.
They are in the Cenacle
impatiently awaiting His coming. Suddenly He appears in their midst.
Of the Mother’s joy, who
would dare to speak? As to the Disciples and the holy women, they
fall down and affectionately adore the Master who has come to take
His leave of them. He deigns to sit down to table with them. He even
condescends to eat with them, not, indeed, to give them proof of His
Resurrection, for He knows that they have no further doubts of the
mystery, but now that He is about to sit at the right hand of the
Father, He would give them this endearing mark of familiarity.
Admirable repast, in which Mary, for the last time in this world, is
seated side by side with her Jesus, and in which the Church
(represented by the Disciples and the holy women), is honoured by the
visible presidency of her Head and Spouse.
What tongue could describe the
respect, the recollected mien, the attention of the guests? With what
love must they not have riveted their eyes on the dear Master? They
long to hear Him speak. His parting words will be so treasured! He
does not keep them long in suspense. He speaks but His language is
not what they perhaps expected it to be — all affection. He begins
by reminding them of the incredulity wherewith they heard of His
Resurrection (Mark xvi. 14). He is going to entrust His Apostles with
the most sublime mission ever given to man. He would, therefore,
prepare them for it by humbling them. A few days hence, and they are
to be the lights of the world. The world must believe what they
preach, believe it on their word, believe it without having seen,
believe what the Apostles alone have seen. It is by faith that man
approaches His God: they themselves were once without it, and Jesus
would have them now express their sorrow for their former
incredulity, and thus base their Apostolate on humilty. Then,
assuming a tone of authority, such as none but a God could take, He
says to them: “Go into the whole world, and preach the Gospel to
every creature. He that believes and is baptised, will be saved: but
he that believes not will be condemned” (Mark xvi. 15, 16). And how
will they accomplish this mission of preaching the Gospel to the
whole world? How will they persuade men to believe their word? By
miracles. “And these signs,” continues Jesus, “will follow them
that believe: in my name they will cast out devils; they will speak
with new tongues; they will take up serpents; and if they shall drink
any deadly thing, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands
upon the sick, and they will recover” (Mark xvi. 17, 18). He would
have miracles to be the foundation of His Church, just as He had made
them the argument of His own divine mission. The suspension of the
laws of nature proves to us that it is God who speaks. We must
receive the word and humbly believe it. Here, then, we have men
unknown to the world and devoid of every human means, and yet
commissioned to conquer the earth and make it acknowledge Jesus as
its King! The world ignores their very existence. Tiberius, who sits
on the imperial throne, trembling at every shadow of conspiracy,
little suspects that there is being prepared an expedition which is
to conquer the Roman Empire. But these warriors must have their
armour, and the armour must be of Heaven’s
own tempering. Jesus tells them that they are to receive it a few
days hence. “Stay,” says He, “in the City, till you be indued
with power from on high” (Luke xxiv. 49). But what is this armour?
Jesus explains it to them. He reminds them of the Father’s
promise, “that promise,” says He, “which you have heard by my
mouth; for John indeed, baptised with water; but you will be baptised
with the Holy Ghost not many days hence” (Acts i. 4, 5).
But the hour of separation is
come. Jesus rises: His blessed Mother and the hundred and twenty
persons assembled there prepare to follow Him. The Cenacle is
situated on Mount Sion, which is one of the two hills within the
walls of Jerusalem. The holy group traverses the city, making for the
eastern G-ate, which opens on the Valley of Josaphat. It is the last
time that Jesus walks through the faithless city. He is invisible to
the eyes of the people who denied Him, but visible to His Disciples,
and goes before them, as heretofore, the pillar of fire led on the
Israelites. How beautiful and imposing a sight! Mary, the Disciples,
and the Holy Women, accompanying Jesus in His Heavenward journey,
which is to lead him to the right hand of His Eternal Father! It was
commemorated in the Middle Ages by a solemn Procession before the
Mass of Ascension Day. What happy times were those, when Christians
took delight in honouring every action of our Redeemer. They could
not be satisfied as we are, with a few vague notions, which can
produce nothing but an equally vague devotion. They reflected on the
thoughts which Mary must have had during these last moments of her
Son’s presence. They
used to ask themselves which of the two sentiments was uppermost in
her maternal heart — sadness, that she was to see her Jesus no
more, or joy, that he was now going to enter into the glory He so
infinitely deserved. The answer was soon found: had not Jesus said to
his Disciples: “If you loved me, you would indeed be glad, because
I go to the Father” (John xiv. 28). Now, who loved Jesus as Mary
did? The Mother’s heart,
then, was full of joy at parting with Him. How was she to think of
herself when there was question of the triumph of her Son and her
God? Could she that had witnessed the scene of Calvary do less than
desire to see Him glorified, whom she knew to be the Sovereign Lord
of all things — Him whom, but a short time ago, she had seen
rejected by His people, blasphemed, and dying the most ignominious
and cruel of deaths? The holy group has traversed the Valley of
Josaphat. It has crossed the brook Cedron and is moving onwards to
Mount Olivet. What recollections would crowd on the mind! This
torrent, of which Jesus had drunk on the day of His humiliation, is
now the path He takes to triumph and glory. The Royal Prophet had
foretold it (Psalms cix. 7). On their left are the Garden and cave
where He suffered His agony and accepted the bitter chalice of His
Passion. After having come as far as what Saint Luke calls the
distance of the journey allowed to the Jews on a Sabbath day (Acts i.
12), they are close to Bethania, that favoured village where Jesus
used to accept hospitality at the hands of Lazarus and his two
sisters. This part of Mount Olivet commands a view of Jerusalem. The
sight of its temple and palaces makes the disciples proud of their
earthly city: they have forgotten the curse uttered against her. They
seem to have forgotten, too, that Jesus has just made them citizens
and conquerors of the whole world. They begin to dream of the earthly
grandeur of Jerusalem, and, turning to their Divine Master, they
venture to ask Him this question: “Lord, will you, at this time,
restore again the kingdom to Israel?”
Jesus answers them with a tone of
severity: “It is not for you to know the times or moments which the
Father has put in His own power” (Acts i. 7). These words do not
destroy the hope that Jerusalem is to be restored by the Christian
Israel, but, as this is not to happen till the world is drawing
towards its end, there is nothing that requires our Saviour’s
revealing the secret. What ought to be uppermost in the mind of the
disciples is the conversion of the pagan world, the establishing the
Church. Jesus reminds them of the mission He has just given to them:
“You will receive,” says He, “the power of the Holy Ghost
coming upon you, and you will be witnesses unto me in Jerusalem, and
in all Judea, and Samaria, and even to the uttermost part of the
Earth” (Acts i. 8).
According to a tradition which
has been handed down from the earliest ages of Christianity, it is
midday, the same hour that He had been raised up, when nailed to His
Cross. Giving His Blessed Mother a look of filial affection, and
another of fond farewell to the rest of the group that stand around
Him, Jesus raises up His hands and blesses them all. While thus
blessing them, He is raised up from the ground on which He stands and
ascends into Heaven (Luke xxiv. 51). Their eyes follow Him until a
cloud comes and receives Him out of their sight (Acts i. 9).
Yes, Jesus is gone! The Earth has
lost her Emmanuel — for [thousands of] years had He been expected:
the Patriarchs and Prophets had desired His coming with all the
fervour of their souls: He came: His love made him our captive in the
chaste womb of the Virgin of Nazareth. It was there He first received
our adorations. Nine months after, the Blessed Mother offered Him to
our joyous love in the stable at Bethlehem. We followed Him into
Egypt. We returned with Him. We dwelt with Him at Nazareth. When He
began the three years of His public life, we kept close to His steps.
We delighted in being near Him, we listened to His preaching and
parables, we saw His miracles. The malice of His enemies reached its
height, and the time came in which He was to give us the last and
grandest proof of the love that had brought Him from Heaven — His
dying for us on a Cross. We kept near Him as he died, and our souls
were purified by the Blood that flowed from His Wounds. On the third
day, He rose again from His grave, and we stood by exulting in His
triumph over Death, for that triumph won for us a like Resurrection.
During the Forty days He has deigned to spend with us since His
Resurrection, our faith has made us cling to Him: we would fain have
kept Him with us forever, but the hour is come. He has left us. Yes,
our dearest Jesus is gone! Happy the souls that He had taken from
Limbo! They have gone with Him and, for all eternity, are to enjoy
the Heaven of His visible presence.
The Disciples are still
steadfastly looking up towards heaven, when lo! two angels, clad in
white robes, appear to them, saying: “You men of Galilee! Why stand
you looking up to Heaven? This Jesus, who is taken up from you into
Heaven, will so come as you have seen Him going into Heaven! (Acts i.
10, 11) He has ascended a Saviour. He is to return as Judge. Between
these two events is comprised the whole life of the Church on Earth.
We are therefore living under the reign of Jesus as our Saviour, for
He has said: “God sent not His Son into the world to judge the
world, but that the world might be saved by Him” (John iii. 17),
and to carry out this merciful design He has just been giving to His
Disciples the mission to go throughout the whole world and invite
men, while yet there is time, to accept the mystery of salvation.
What a task is this he imposes on
the Apostles! And now that they are to begin their work, He leaves
them! They return from Mount Olivet, and Jesus is not with them! And
yet, they are not sad: they have Mary to console them. Her unselfish
generosity is their model, and well do they learn the lesson. They
love Jesus. They rejoice at the thought of His having entered into
His rest. “They went back into Jerusalem with great joy” (Luke
xxiv. 52). These few simple words of the Gospel indicate the spirit
of this admirable Feast of the Ascension: it is a Festival, which,
notwithstanding its soft tinge of sadness, is, more than any other
expressive of joy and triumph. During its Octave we will endeavour to
describe its mystery and magnificence: we would only observe, for the
present, that this Solemnity is the completion of the Mysteries of
our Redemption, that it is one of those which were instituted by the
Apostles, and finally, that it has impressed a character of
sacredness on the Thursday of each week — the day already so highly
honoured by the institution of the Eucharist.
We have alluded to the procession
by which our Catholic forefathers used, on this Feast, to celebrate
the journey of Jesus and His Disciples to Mount Olivet. Another
custom observed on the Ascension was the solemn blessing given to
bread and to the new fruits: it was commemorative of the farewell
repast taken by Jesus in the Cenacle. Let us imitate the piety of the
Ages of Faith when Christians loved to honour the very least of our
Saviour’s actions and,
so to speak, make them their own by thus interweaving the minutest
details of His life into their own. What earnest reality of love and
adoration was given to our Jesus in those old times when His being
Sovereign Lord and Redeemer was the ruling principle of both
individual and social life! Nowadays we may follow the principle, as
fervently as we please, in the privacy of our own consciences or, at
most, in our own homes, but publicly, and when we are before the
world, no! To say nothing of the evil results of this modern
limitation of Jesus’
rights as our King, what could be more sacrilegiously unjust to Him
who deserves our whole service, everywhere and at all times? The
Angels said to the Apostles: “This Jesus will come, as you have
seen Him going into Heaven”: happy we if during his absence we will
have so unreservedly loved and served Him as to be able to meet Him
with confidence when He comes to judge us!
Epistle – Acts i. 1‒11
The former treatise I made, O
Theophilus, of all things which Jesus began to do and to teach, until
the day on which, giving commandments by the Holy Ghost to the
Apostles whom He had chosen, He was taken up. To whom also He showed
Himself alive after his Passion, by many proofs, for forty days
appearing to them and speaking of the kingdom of God. And eating
together with them, He commanded them that they should not depart
from Jerusalem, but should wait for the promise of the Father, which
you have heard (said He) by my mouth: for John indeed baptised with
water, but you will be baptised with the Holy Ghost, not many days
hence. They, therefore, who were come together, asked Him, saying,
“Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” But
He said to them, “It is not for you to know the times or moments
which the Father has put in his own power; but you will receive: the
power of the Holy Ghost coming upon you, and you will be witnesses to
me in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and Samaria, and even, to the
uttermost part of the earth.” And when He had said these things,
whiles they looked on He was raised up and a cloud received Him out
of their sight. And while they were beholding Him going up to heaven,
behold, two men stood by them in white garments, who also said, “You
men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up to heaven? This Jesus who
is taken up from you into heaven, will so come, as you have seen Him
going into heaven.”
Thanks be to God.
Dom Prosper Gueranger:
This admirable description of our
Jesus’ Ascension brings
the mystery so vividly before us that we almost seem to see the happy
group on Mount Olivet. With what affection the Disciples gaze on the
Divine Master as they see Him rising up towards Heaven, and
stretching out His hand to bless them! Their eyes, though full of
tears, are riveted on the cloud which has come between themselves and
Jesus. They are alone on the Mount. Jesus’
visible presence is taken from them. How wretched would they not feel
in the desert land of their exile, were it not for His supporting
grace, and for that Holy Spirit who is about to come down and create
within them a new being? So then, it is only in Heaven that they can
ever again see the face of Jesus, who, God as He is, deigned to be
their Master for three long happy years, and, on the evening of the
Last Supper, called them His friends!
Neither are they the only ones
who feel this separation. Our Earth leaped with joy as the Son of God
walked upon it. That joy is now past. It had looked forward, for
[thousands of] years, for the glory of being the dwelling-place of
its Creator. That glory is now gone. The nations are in expectation
of a Deliverer and though, with the exception of the people of Judea
and Galilee, men are not aware that this Deliverer has come and gone
again, it will not long be so. They will hear of His birth, and His
life, and His works. They will hear of His triumphant Ascension too,
for holy Church will proclaim it in every country of the earth. [Two
thousand] years have elapsed since He left this world, and our
respectful and loving farewell blends with that which His Disciples
gave Him when He was mounting up to Heaven. Like them, we feel His
absence. But like them, we also rejoice in the thought that He is
seated at the right hand of His Father, beautiful in His kingly
glory.
You, dear Jesus, have entered
into your rest! We adore you on your throne, we are redeemed and the
fruit of your victory! Bless us! Draw us to yourself, and grant that
your Last Coming may be to us a source of joy rather than of fear!
Gospel – Mark xvi. 14‒20
At that time Jesus appeared to
the eleven as they were at table, and He upbraided them for their
incredulity and hardness of heart because they did not believe those
who had seen Him after He had risen again. And He said to them, “Go
into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature. He who
believes and is baptised will be saved, but he who believes not will
be condemned. And these signs will follow those who believe: in my
Name they will cast out devils; they will speak with new tongues;
they will take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it
will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they
will recover.” And the Lord Jesus, after He had spoken to them, was
taken up into heaven and sits at the right hand of God. But they
going forth preached everywhere, the Lord working still and
confirming the word with signs that followed.
Praise be to you, O Christ.
Dom Prosper Gueranger:
Alas, how short was His stay here
below! At least, how quickly the
time passed! How many ages have gone by, and how many must still come
over this poor Earth of ours before she can again behold His face.
The Church languishes after Him in this dreary exile of the vale of
tears, taking care of us, the children her Jesus has given her by His
Holy Spirit. She feels His absence and, if we are Christians, we will
feel it too. Oh when will the day come, that re-united to our bodies,
“we will be taken up in the clouds to meet Christ, and be with our
Lord forever!” (1 Thessalonians iv. 16) Then, and then only, will
we have attained the end for which we were created.
All the mysteries of the Word
Incarnate were to close with His
Ascension. All the graces we receive are to end with ours. This world
is but “a figure that passes away” (1 Corinthians vi. 31), and we
are hastening through it to rejoin our Divine Leader. In Him are our
life and happiness: it is vain to seek them elsewhere. Whatever
brings us nearer to Jesus is good. Whatever alienates us from Him is
evil. The mystery of the Ascension is the last ray of light given to
us by our Creator, by which He shows us the path to our heavenly
country. If our heart is seeking its Jesus, and longs to come to Him,
it is alive with the true life. If its energies are spent upon
created things, and it feels no attraction for its Jesus, it is dead.
Let us, therefore, lift up our
eyes, as did the disciples, and
follow, in desire. Him who this day ascends to Heaven, and prepares a
place there for each of his faithful servants. Sursum
corda! Hearts on Heaven! It is
the parting-word of our brethren who accompany the Divine Conqueror
in His Ascension. It is the hymn with which the Angels, coming down
to meet their King, invite us to ascend and fill up the vacant
thrones: Sursum corda!
A
tradition handed down from the early ages and confirmed by the
revelations of the saints, tells us that the Ascension of our Lord
took place at the hour of noon. The Carmelites of St. Teresa’s
Reform honour this pious tradition by assembling in the choir at the
hour of midday on the Ascension, and spend it in the contemplation of
this last of Jesus’
mysteries, following Him, in thought and desire, to the throne of His
glory. Let us also follow him, but before looking on the bright noon
which smiles on His triumph, let us go back in thought to His first
coming among us. It was at midnight, in the stable of Bethlehem. That
dark and silent hour was an appropriate commencement to the three and
thirty years of His life on earth. He had come to accomplish a great
mission: year by year, and day by day, He laboured in its fulfilment.
It was nigh to its fulfilment when men laid their sacrilegious hands
on Him and nailed Him to a Cross. It was midday when He was thus
raised up in the air, but the Eternal Father would not permit the sun
to shine on Jesus’
humiliation. Darkness covered the face of the earth, and that day had
no noon. Three hours after, the sun re-appeared. Three days after,
the Crucified rose again from the tomb, and it was at the early dawn
of light. On this day, yes, at this very hour, His work is completed.
He has redeemed us by His Blood from our sins. He has conquered death
by His Resurrection to life: had he not a right to choose, for His
Ascension, the hour when the sun is pouring forth his warmest and
brightest beams?
Hail,
holy hour of Noon, sacred with your double consecration which reminds
us daily of the mercy and of the Triumph of our Emmanuel, of
salvation by His Cross, and of Heaven by His Ascension! But are you
not, Jesus, Sun of Justice! Are you not yourself the noontide of our
souls? Where are we to find that fullness of Light for which we were
created — where that burning of eternal Love which alone can
satisfy our longing hearts — but in you, who earnest down upon the
earth to dispel our darkness and our cold? It is in this hope that we
venture to address you in the sublime words of your faithful spouse
Gertrude:
“O
Love, Noontide, whose ardours are so soothing! You are the hour of
sacred rest, and the unruffled peace I taste in you is all my
delight. You whom my soul loves, you who are my chosen and my elect
above all creatures, tell me, show me, where you feed your flock,
where you lie to rest in the midday. My heart kindles with rapture at
thought of your tranquil rest at Noon! That it were given me to come
so near to you, that I might be not only near you, but in you!
Beneath your genial ray, Sun of Justice, the flowers of all the
virtues would spring forth from me, who am but dust and ashes. Then
would my soul, rendered fruitful by you, my Master and my Spouse,
bring forth the noble fruit of every perfection. Then should I be led
forth from this valley of sorrows and be admitted to behold your
face, so long, so wistfully longed for. And then would it be my
everlasting happiness to think that you have not disdained, you
spotless Mirror, to unite yourself to a sinner like me!”
The
Lord Jesus has disappeared from our Earth, but His memory and His
promises are treasured in the heart of the Church. She follows, in
spirit, the glorious triumph of her Spouse, a triumph so well
deserved by his having accomplished the world’s
Redemption. She keenly feels her widowhood, but she awaits with
unshaken confidence, the promised Comforter.
O
JESUS our Emmanuel! Your work is done, and this is the day of your
entering into your rest. In the beginning of the world you spent
spend six days in harmonising the varied portions of the creation,
after which you entered again into your rest. When later on you would
repair your work which Satan’s
malice had deranged, your love induced you to live among us for three
and thirty years, during which you worked our redemption and restored
us to the holiness and honour from which we had fallen. Whatever had
been assigned you in the eternal decrees of the Blessed Trinity,
whatever had been foretold of your by the Prophets, all was done,
dear Jesus. Not an iota of it all was forgotten. Your triumphant
Ascension was the close of the mission you had so mercifully
undertaken. It was your second entrance into your rest, but this time
it was with our Human Nature which you had assumed, and which was now
to receive divine honour. You would have companions in your Ascension
— the souls you had liberated from Limbo. And when about to leave
us, you said this word of consolation to us: “I go go to prepare a
place for you!” (John xiv. 2). Confiding, Jesus, in this promise,
resolved to follow you in all the mysteries achieved by you for our
sakes — in the humility of your birth at Bethlehem, in your
sufferings on Calvary, in the joy of your Resurrection — we hope,
also, to imitate you when our mortal course is run, in your glorious
Ascension. Meanwhile, we unite with the holy Apostles who rejoiced at
your triumph, and with the ransomed captives of Limbo who entered
Heaven in your company. Watch over us, Divine Shepherd, while we are
in our exile! Tend your faithful sheep. Let none be lost. Lead them
all to your fold. The mystery of your Ascension shows us the object
of our existence. it re-animates us to study more attentively and
love more warmly all your other mysteries: our one ambition, then,
our one desire, will henceforth be our own Ascension to Heaven and to
you It was for this you came into the world: by humbling yourself to
our lowliness, to exalt us to your own majesty, and by making
yourself Man, to make man a partaker of your divinity. But until the
happy day of our union with you, what would become of us without that
power of the Most High which you have promised to send us, that He
may bring us patience during our pilgrimage, fidelity to our absent
King, and that solace of a heart exiled from its God, love? Come,
then, Holy Spirit! Support our weakness. Fix the eye of our souls on
the heaven where our King awaits us, and never permit us to set our
hearts on a world which, had it every other charm, has not the
infinite one of Jesus’
visible presence!
Only
Begotten Son of God who, having conquered death, passed from Earth to
Heaven: who, as Son of Man, are seated in great glory on your throne,
receiving praise from the whole Angelic host, grant that we, who in
the jubilant devotion of our faith, celebrate your Ascension to the
Father, may not be fettered by the chains of sin to the love of this
world, and that the aim of our hearts may unceasingly be directed to
the Heaven to which you ascended in glory after your Passion. Amen.
