Tags
Ascension, Christian, I am with you always, Jesus, Scripture, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
For Christians the world over, there have been frequent musings over the centuries about what it would have been like to have lived when Jesus walked the earth, to have recognized and spent time with him (if we did, in fact, recognize him). Would we have embraced his message? Would it have been enough to have been in his presence? Or are we the gifted ones, living in a time when communication is worldwide, when Christians populate the world in great numbers and faith is strong in many places of worship and pilgrimage? Is it more valuable to have the testimony of the Scriptures, as well as works of scholars, mystics and monks who impart their knowledge and experience with a passion that is carried through time and caught by those of open heart?
Today we celebrate the great feast of The Ascension of Christ into heaven. His work on the earth plane was completed and he passed on to those willing to follow him the task of spreading God’s love throughout the world. That task is now ours. We can know him in our desire, in our sharing of his message, in the love we impart to the companions we have been given. We have many messages from Scripture, left to us by those who listened to the words of Jesus when he was here. Today, may we be comforted and strengthened by the promise given as he left the earth:
Know that I am with you always, until the end of the age.
Once a month now at the Sophia Center we have a noon gathering to ponder the lectionary psalm of the day. A few months ago it happened that a section of the longest psalm in the Bible (PS 119) showed up on our meeting day. As I thought about how to present this snippet of a greater whole, I found my answer in a section of commentary that said, “Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning in new ways, truth becomes grounded…” The six chosen verses for that day were in the same section but not tightly sequential. Our normal practice is to read what appears just once through, either by one person, antiphonally (alternately by two groups), or all together. I decided to experiment by having each participant read one verse that we then commented upon before going on to the next one. The result was quite profound. There were six of us present that day. Six different voices describing the same sentiment deepened the meaning and solidified it in our hearts. And then the next verse built upon that deepening.
Today Christians throughout the world celebrate one of the major feasts of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Known as “The Assumption” it is one of those tenets of Christianity which is not proven by Scripture but is rather “taken on faith.” That Mary was “taken into heaven, body and soul” seemed a logical conclusion to the life of the one that the Council of Ephesus in the year 431 had called Theotokos (God-bearer), the mother of Christ who was believed to have been “conceived without sin.”
In 1950, Pope Pius XII declared a feast celebrating Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as a dogma of the Catholic faith. There are many feasts of Mary and this one was not a new thought; it’s reality had been celebrated by Christians with rituals from as early as the sixth century. The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into heaven is, ironically, something “assumed” since there is no concrete evidence of the fact that Mary, like Jesus, was taken body and soul into heaven at the time of her death, because of her esteemed role in the birth and life of Jesus in this earthly realm. It is one of those instances that the Church follows the sensus fidelium, a time when “from the bishops to the last of the faithful, they manifest a universal consent in matters of faith and morals.” The Pope was, in a sense, just certifying what people had believed and practiced for centuries.
Yesterday I was speaking with someone who had participated in last weekend’s workshop at The Sophia Center for Spirituality about how simple, and yet how effective, the activities were. We concluded that it was a combination of the engaging manner of Jan Phillips, the presenter, that engendered trust by her honest sharing and the resultant willingness of the group members to act in like manner that carried the day. The focus of the sharing, a consistent energetic current that undergirded such success, was the life experiences of the participants and how those experiences had been transformative in some way. The genius of the process was that the transformation came from the simple exercise of speaking our truths aloud. Happy or sad, difficult or easy, long past or recent, we recounted our life events as we saw them and recognized ourselves in the eyes and hearts of the willing hearers in our midst. We found our creativity in the extraordinary poems that we wrote in 10 minutes, prompted by a series of necessarily included words like a color, a location, a body of water, a person…We moved our bodies in a simple circle dance and found it easier to do in the singing and connecting of hands and smiling eyes. In short, we realized our common humanity and celebrated our desire to reach out from that place to a world in need of our blessing and gifts.
Over the past 48 hours I have had the opportunity to spend time with two women whose fathers died this past summer. Last night my own father appeared in a dream which I only remember for his passing presence and the appearance of his wedding ring – not on his hand but clearly his – a strong symbol in his life and the lives of our family.