Fr. Frank Majka, SJ – The Bridge

Ascension

In grade school, the feast of the Ascension was all about the annual school picnic. But, of course, it is about more than that.

Early Christian writers saw Christ’s ascension as having enormous significance for the whole human family, for in the Ascension, Jesus did not leave his humanity behind. He took it with him into heaven.

And since our humanity is like his, we can have confidence that we, too, will take our humanity with us into heaven. Thus, we can never believe that the heavenly and the human will cancel each other out. There already is a human nature in heaven, Christ’s. His humanity is not something he had to give up, and we won’t need to lay ours aside, either.

In eternity, we will remain human just as Christ has remained human. And we will experience a deeper relationship with Christ, our brother — not just in his divinity but in his and our shared and glorified humanity.

Vine and Branch

When we look to measure how we’re doing in life, we often look to our achievements. Those things that we have accomplished for ourselves, our families, our communities or our professions are the kinds of things we’d like to be remembered for. They are signs of a fruitful life.

But in his image of himself as the vine and us as the branches, Jesus suggests we shouldn’t be worried about the specifics of our lives’ fruitfulness. Instead, we should pay attention to our connection with him because if this is not solid, then we will ultimately produce nothing. The fruitfulness of the branches depends on their connection to the vine.

We may be full of generous desires to do great things for God; we may want to better the lives of our brothers and sisters. Still, the most important thing is our connection with Christ. If that is strong, then we can rest assured the fruitfulness will come.

The Good Shepherd and Us

The image of the Good Shepherd effectively tells us some very important truths about how Jesus understands himself. It tells us that he will go out of his way to find us when we have strayed and will bring us back to the fold from which we have wandered off. It tells us that, unlike the hired hand, Jesus will stand his ground and protect his flock, even to giving his life for them.

But there is a danger if we take the image to mean that we, his followers, are just sheep. Sheep, after all, are pretty much interested only in themselves and munching grass. We’re human beings with souls and minds, and we have been called to be his followers.

With the help of the Holy Spirit, we are meant to be courageous, loving, creative, outgoing, proclaiming the gospel by what we say and how we live. We aren’t a herd or meant to think with a herd mentality. Instead, we’re intended to be a community of unique individuals living in love and mutual help, thereby setting an example of the Kingdom of God which Jesus came to establish.

So, though there’s consolation in knowing that Jesus is the Good Shepherd, there’s also a challenge in realizing that he doesn’t want us to be just sheep.

Gift and Duty

Fifty years ago, Sister Kathleen told our grade school class in Omaha that because Jesus gave his followers the power of forgiveness on Easter night, we could get to be friends with God again if we sinned. That sounded like an awesome power, indeed.

Today I think of Christ’s gift as not just about the Church’s being given a power but, rather, of being charged with a duty.

A lot of people may have the opinion that the Church thinks its job is to make people and society perfect, but that’s not the case. The power to make the world perfect was not Jesus’ Easter gift. The power to forgive, however, was.

And though, in the Catholic Church, the call to preside at the Sacrament of Reconciliation is given to priests, we all, ordained or not, share the duty to foster forgiveness and reconciliation in our families, communities, and the wider world. It’s Christ’s expectation that, with his help, we do what he asks.

Easter Consolation

Most of us live with disappointments, and though we may be disappointed with others (including God), I suspect that we are often most disappointed with ourselves.

The two disciples on their way from Jerusalem to Emmaus on the afternoon of Easter (Luke 24) were no strangers to disappointment. They’d been in Jerusalem and had experienced Jesus’ death. How could God have let such things happen to Jesus? How could their religious leaders have been so unjust and cruel? And, above all, how could they themselves have thought Jesus was the Messiah?

Suddenly Jesus joined them. They didn’t recognize him; but he opened the scriptures to explain that the Messiah had to die as he did, but in this way would enter his glory. As he went on speaking, the disciples’ hearts started to burn with hope and new life.

Ignatius Loyola noted that in his Easter appearances, Jesus comes to console not to blame or assign guilt or revisit the past over and over. We may do that, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to lead us from our disappointments, whether personal or collective, to a future full of hope.

May Christ’s consolation be ours this Easter season, and may we share that consolation with those around us.

Happy Easter!