Together on the Journey: A Weekly Blog from Fr. Andrew Sheldon
This past Thursday was Ascension Day; the day we remember Jesus’ disappearance into the clouds, and how his followers were now on their own. This was an occasion of transition, indeed delegation, which I find captured well in this poem by Malcolm Guite written in 2011:
Ascension
We saw his light break through the cloud of glory
Whilst we were rooted still in time and place
As earth became a part of Heaven’s story
And heaven opened to his human face.
We saw him go and yet we were not parted
He took us with him to the heart of things
The heart that broke for all the broken-hearted
Is whole and Heaven-centred now, and sings,
Sings in the strength that rises out of weakness,
Sings through the clouds that veil him from our sight,
Whilst we our selves become his clouds of witness
And sing the waning darkness into light,
His light in us, and ours in him concealed,
Which all creation waits to see revealed.
We had a funeral service here at St George’s on Ascension Day, and in reflecting on the timing I was struck by the similarities between Jesus’ ascension and the death of a loved one. Death, too, can be seen as a kind of ascension, and one in which those left behind are now entrusted as witnesses to the life of the one who is no longer bodily with us. And so, another poem, this one written by Colleen Corah Hitchcock in 1987:
Ascension
And if I go,
while you’re still here . . .
Know that I live on,
vibrating to a different measure
–behind a thin veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me,
so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can soar together again,
–both aware of each other.
Until then, live your life to its fullest.
And when you need me,
Just whisper my name in your heart,
. . . I will be there.
Although Ascension Day was on Thursday, we will celebrate it on Sunday, and, as always, I’ll have more to say then!
Andrew+