Ascension Sunday, May 8, 2005

    As I have reported to you before, the trail that leads up to the top of Yellow Mountain, near Highlands, NC, is no Sunday afternoon stroll. As one of the local guidebooks has it: “The trail terminates at the old Yellow Mountain Fire Tower which gives the hiker an opportunity to view a magnificent 360 degree view of the NC mountains. This is an 11 mile, strenuous out-and-back hike which proceeds over Cole Mountain, Shortoff Mountain and Goat Knob before the final climb to the top of Yellow Mountain. It is very much worth the trip but it is not for beginners.”
    Some priest friends and I decided to tackle this one day a couple of summers ago. And one of the priests forgot to put his share of the Gatorade in the packs. (Yours, truly!) So there we were, climbing up and down the trail, with not near enough fluids, mostly in the sun; and I asked myself, “Why do I do this? Why do I torture myself this way?” Then we got to the top, and there was the reason, the purpose for all that effort, fatigue, thirst, and discomfort: there were the other mountains, the valleys – the breath-taking view from the top. That’s why I was willing to suffer, with or without enough Gatorade.
    That which is truly beautiful makes the soul soar; love makes the heart sing. Life is full of all kinds of potential ascensions. As I shared yesterday evening with the university graduates that they have just accomplished one such ascent themselves. And I congratulated them for enduring the tortures and trials (and joys) of study, examinations, hard work. They have scaled an academic mountain, and during these brief and passing days they look around from the top. But I reminded them that if they’re observant, thoughtful and brave, they will have already noticed… what? You guessed it: another mountain to climb, other ascents to make that will require of them, no matter what it is, a certain amount of suffering, choices that cancel out other options, discipline that channels efforts and energy.
    Such is, analogously, the Christian life. But here we are dealing with the ascent of all ascensions – first and foremost, the Ascension of Jesus Christ back to the Father: that mystery of the Christian Faith that opens up for us the possibility, the vital potential of our finally reaching the end, the goal for which we were made by God. For did our Lord not tell His disciples that even though He must leave them, He was going away in order to prepare a place for them, for you and me?
    We have become, unfortunately, unused to understanding, and even defining, the Christian life by its end, its goal. Strange, though, such a life would be without a goal – something like the oddities of basketball without a hoop, football without a goal-line, a symphony without a musical resolution, years of dedicated university study without a degree…. Ah, life with nothing to aim for!
    Christ our Lord, the Church reminds us today on this great Feast, has given us something – or rather, Someone – to aim for, something priceless to pursue, a goal, yes, even for which to suffer. For too long, way too long, we have often only thought of the practice of the Christian faith as all kinds of denials, whose purpose is to simply keep us out of really big trouble, but which is much like running around and around the track – trying to stay in the right lane – with no ribbon at the end to mark a finality… and a winner. Yet how often someone like St. Paul wrote of the Christian life as a race to run (so as to win, really win); a boxing match in which the great Apostle takes on his own wayward tendencies that would derail him from his goal and seeks to pummel them; or a journey – a hike, if you will – that is always pressing forward, toward our high calling, as St. Paul described it, life in Christ Jesus.
    This life – life in Christ – is the goal we must seek to ascend to. “I have come,” Jesus proclaimed, “that you might have life and have it to the full.” And that can mean only one kind of life, God’s life; because our own life in this world runs out. The only life that does not wane and fade and come to an end is God’s life, divine life – what the Lord and His Church mean by eternal life. It was so as to share with us that life that God created the world in the first place. What our first parents threw away – God’s invitation to participate in His life – Christ, the Son of God, came amongst us as our Redeemer to restore through His death and resurrection. His Ascension back to the Father is the way, the trail, laid down for us by Him, paved by His own life’s blood and the glory of His resurrection – the way back to God, through Christ.
    Life without a goal or purpose is perhaps, after all is said and done, the most penetrating misery known to the human being. We cannot really live, even day to day, without goals, purpose, and plans and action to reach them. We do this on the natural level, and rightly so; why should we not see that we must also do this on the level of the supernatural? In the light of all this, one has to ask oneself some questions, it seems to me – yes, even when someone is young – looking into the future, once the years go ever faster by, and the inevitable slowing down comes upon us, in old age, we have to ask ourselves: “What have I made of my life all these years? Who have I become? Really, deep down, in my heart of hearts, what sort of person have a chosen to be?” And finally, we must ask, “Now that the race is nearly over, where will I go from here?”
    Of course, Christ is the answer, and He speaks to us at every stage of our lives, whatever our immediate goals and accomplishments, and He presents to us Himself as the way, the truth and the life. His insistent and even urgent command to us is simple: “Follow me.” Ascend with me… toward and to that goal and purpose for which you were made. Finish with me the one race that ultimately really matters, and know the sweet taste of eternal victory.