
Apostles Anglican Church
Fr. John A. Roop
Feast of the Ascension of Our Lord
(Acts 1:1-11, Psalm 47, Ephesians 1:15-23, Luke 24:44-53)
Backwards and Forwards: A Reflection on Ascension and the Day of Atonement
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
It is typical and proper on the Feast of the Ascension to focus on the enthronement of our Lord Jesus in “the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come” (Eph 1:20b-21). But, that is not the only theme of Ascension. There is a less familiar one, but no less important one, that I’d like to bring to the fore this evening.
In my former life as a mathematics teacher I often gave my algebra and calculus students this two-fold bit of advice when they were struggling with a problem.
First, go back to the beginning. It is possible that you made some minor error early on that has now cascaded into a major road block. If you start over, you may well either catch the error before it grows or else not make it at all the second time through. Or, it may be that you need to go back to the beginning of the chapter and review the earlier material, the prerequisite knowledge for this section and this problem. In either case, the way forward may actually involve going back to the beginning.
Second, look forward to the ending. Check with BoB, which was our acronym for Back of Book (BoB). That is where the answers to the odd numbered problems were found. Sometimes the form of the solution will give you a hint to the method of solution, or will at least suggest something else you might try. Some students excelled at this “reverse engineering” process. We just called it working backwards from the answers. Whatever you call it, the method is the same: look forward toward the ending.
So, here was my advice in a nutshell:
When lost in the middle, go back to the beginning, and look forward to the ending.
It was good, sound mathematical pedagogy, and I think it has broader applications, say to theology and interpretation of Scripture. Have you ever found yourself in the middle of a Biblical text — maybe in the heart of Romans (probably chapters 9 through 11) or somewhere in the tall weeds of Revelation — only to realize that you are utterly baffled or, perhaps a little better, just a bit confused about how this passage fits into the larger whole. Then, my advice to you is the same as to my mathematics students:
When lost in the middle, go back to the beginning, and look forward to the ending.
Now, I would like to show you how this principle works in practice, using a passage from the Gospel according to St. John, a passage in which Jesus is speaking to his disciples on the night he was betrayed.
John 16:4b–11 (ESV): “I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you. 5 But now I am going to him who sent me, and none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ 6 But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart. 7 Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. 8 And when he comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: 9 concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; 10 concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; 11 concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged.
This passage may not confuse you, but it puzzled me for quite some time and left me with questions:
How could it possibly be to the disciples’ advantage, or to mine and yours, or to anyone’s that Jesus goes away?
What does Jesus mean when he says the Holy Spirit will not (perhaps cannot?) come until he ascends to his Father? How and why is the Ascension related to the outpouring of the Holy Spirit?
This seems to be a timely passage for us to tackle just now since it relates to this day’s observance of the Ascension (Jesus going away) and to Pentecost (the coming of the Holy Spirit) ten days hence. We’ll try our two-fold strategy on it:
When lost in the middle, go back to the beginning, and look forward to the ending.
All right: back to the beginning, in this case all the way back to the beginning of all things, to the creation story. Whatever else we might observe about the creation account in Genesis 1:1-2:3, it has the repetitive, progressive structure of a great liturgy: And God said…and there was…evening and morning…it was good, repeated six times all the while progressing toward the penultimate event, the creation of man, male and female. Those who study such Ancient Near Eastern texts tell us that this creation account has the structure of a temple dedication liturgy. It presents God’s creation of the universe, and particularly of the earth, the Garden, and man as the construction and dedication of a temple, nearing completion on the sixth day when God’s image bearers — not idols of wood or stone, but image-bearing humans — are placed in the temple and animated with the breath of God. It culminates on the seventh day when the high God takes up his residence in the holy place. Now, let’s get this because it’s central to all that follows: this temple, and particularly this holy place, was to be where God uniquely dwelt with his people. That was the purpose of the temple of creation — to be the dwelling place of God with his people. That’s the beginning.
Now, let’s look forward to the ending — to the end of the record, though not the end of the eternal story.
Revelation 21:1–4 (ESV): 1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
As in the beginning, so at the end. The first heaven and earth that God had created as a temple in which to dwell with his image bearing humans has passed away. But there is a new — a renewed — heaven and earth and a new Jerusalem which lies at their intersection. And it, not the Garden, is the final dwelling place of God with man. God’s purpose has remained constant from beginning to end: to dwell with his holy people. So much for those poor souls — Sartre and his existentialist devotees, and the new atheist sons and daughters of Hitchens and Dawkins — all those poor souls who say life has no meaning and the world has no purpose. The purpose, the telos, of all creation is to be the dwelling place of God with his people. And the human purpose is to dwell with God as his holy people.
The story of the whole of Scripture is of how God, in his providence, takes man from the Garden to New Jerusalem, from the beginning to the end. It is a long, winding, and sometimes torturous tale, and I’ll mention just a few of the most important milestones along the way.
The first woman was tempted and deceived by the father of lies, the ancient serpent, and the first man embraced her deception along with her. And by that action they forfeited the God-given holiness that allowed them to dwell in the holy place with God. The result was exile away from the presence of God. Call it punishment, if you will, but it was also protection. Sinful man cannot dwell in the presence of the holy God and live. That is the great conundrum that runs throughout Scripture: God created man to dwell with him as his holy people, but because man squandered his holiness he cannot dwell in the presence of God.
Adam and Eve are now exiled into a chaotic world, a hostile world in which their descendants will be born not into holiness, but into sin and slavery and alienation from one another and from God. And the human species, created to be holy image bearers, spirals downward into corruption, unable any longer to bear the presence of God.
So, what is God to do? He doesn’t abandon his purpose to have a holy people among whom to dwell; rather, he starts anew, a second creation (actually a third, if we count the flood). He calls a man, Abram, his wife, Sarai, and a few family members to form the nucleus of a new people, who will be for him a holy people, a kingdom of priests among whom he will live — a holy enclave in the midst of a fallen world. And, he will use this people as agents of holiness, to make God known, and ultimately through whom to purify the whole world so that God might once again dwell with humans.
This plan proceeds by fits and starts over centuries, through generations of Patriarchs until we reach Moses and a new chapter in the story of Israel. From the original old couple, Abraham and Sarah, God’s people have grown to six hundred thousand men, besides women and children. It is now time for God to dwell among them. On Sinai, God gives Moses a vision of the heavenly tabernacle and commands him to build an earthly counterpart in which God’s presence will reside, in the Holy of Holies of the tabernacle, between the outstretched wings of the cherubim, over the mercy seat. And God gives Moses a Law by which to purify his people so that God may dwell among them: not regulations only, but rituals of sacrifice to atone for sins committed, in order to restore holiness.
At the heart of this Law, as the greatest act of purification for the restoration of holiness, lies the Day of Atonement. Though sacrifices for the people’s sin are offered daily, sin leaves a residue, a taint, that contaminates the ark of the covenant with its mercy seat, the Holy of Holies, the Holy Place, the altar and its utensils, the tabernacle and its court, the people, the entire encampment, and ultimately the land promised to Abraham. And that must be addressed once each year, once every year, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement when the high priest takes the blood of a goat behind the veil of the Holy of Holies, into the very presence of God, and sprinkles the blood on the mercy seat to make atonement for it, to purify it. The high priest then works his way outward purifying the entire tabernacle complex and the people and the land with the blood of the goat so that God can dwell among them for another year. Unless the High Priest enters the Holy of Holies with the blood of the goat, there is no purification and God cannot dwell among his people. The alternatives are exile or death, and there is little difference between the two. It is important to remember that this ritual purifies Israel only, not the nations of the world; God dwells in the midst of Israel only, and not among the nations of the world. Not yet, at any rate, though God will promise through the prophets that one day, through the seed of Abraham, the whole earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea (see Hab 2:14).
Let’s pause a moment to get our bearings.
In our quest to understand St. John’s challenging text about the Ascension, we have gone back to the beginning, and we have looked forward to the end. Now, perhaps, we can plunge into the heart of it.
On the day of resurrection, Jesus greets Mary Magdalene at the tomb and says to her:
John 20:17 (ESV): “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ”
May I paraphrase Jesus’ words?
“Don’t hold on to me, now; we both still have work to do. Your task is to proclaim my resurrection to my other disciples. My task can only be completed when I ascend to the Father.”
And what is Jesus’ task? From our look backwards, we know. It is the great and final Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, not to purify Israel only, but to make atonement for the sin of the whole world, as Hebrews tells us:
Hebrews 9:11–14 (ESV): 11 But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) 12 he entered once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption. 13 For if the blood of goats and bulls, and the sprinkling of defiled persons with the ashes of a heifer, sanctify for the purification of the flesh, 14 how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.
Hebrews 9:24–26 (ESV): 24 For Christ has entered, not into holy places made with hands, which are copies of the true things, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf. 25 Nor was it to offer himself repeatedly, as the high priest enters the holy places every year with blood not his own, 26 for then he would have had to suffer repeatedly since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.
Christ our Great High Priest ascended into heaven to enter the Holy of Holies — into the very presence of God the Father Almighty — to purify forever those who are his and to sanctify the whole world, so that God — in the person of the Holy Spirit — might be set loose in the world to dwell among his people at last. As St. John writes:
1 John 2:2 (ESV): 2 He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
It is too small a thing for the Great High Priest to purify an ark or a tent or a temple or a nation or a plot of land in the Middle East. The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God as the waters cover the sea. The God who created his image bearers so that he might dwell among them, will now, at last dwell among people from every family, language, people, and nation. Now all peoples may be included among his holy people. Now his holy presence is not limited to one place, but is everywhere present filling all things. Now, it is not only our Great High Priest who may come into the Holy of Holies one day each year, but also us:
Hebrews 10:19–23 (ESV): 19 Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, 20 by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.
That is the good news of the Ascension: the world purified so that God, in the Person of the Holy Spirit, may dwell with his holy people — all his holy people — wherever they may be found, and so that his holy people — all this holy people — may enter into his presence without fear.
Was it to the disciples’ advantage, or to yours and mine, or to anyone’s that Jesus went away in the Ascension? Oh, yes; for in his Ascension, Jesus purified the world.
And what has all this to do with the coming of the Holy Spirit? The descent of the Holy Spirit is the firstfruits of God dwelling with his holy people at last, made possible by the final Day of Atonement. It is a foretaste of the new Jerusalem in which God will be all and in all.
What are we to say to all this? Psalm 47 gives us words:
1 O clap your hands together, all you peoples;
O cry aloud unto God with shouts of joy.
2 For the LORD Most High is to be feared;
he is the great King over all the earth.
6 O sing praises, sing praises unto our God;
O sing praises, sing praises unto our King.
7 For God is the King of all the earth;
think upon his mighty acts and praise him with a song (BCP 2019, pp. 328-329).
Amen.
