The Sunday after Ascension Day

The Sunday after Ascension Day
Preached by the Precentor, Canon Anna Macham

Sunday 29 May 2025

Isaiah 44:1-8 and Ephesians 4:7-16

The Feast of the Ascension, which we celebrated on Thursday, has been described as something of a forgotten feast in the Church.  Perhaps because it’s always celebrated on a Thursday and never on a Sunday, or because it comes 40 whole days after Easter, when we first started to celebrate the joy and new life of the resurrection, the Ascension has sometimes been neglected, seen as an add on or afterthought to the central event.   Perhaps also because of the seeming ridiculousness of having to believe in a human figure- albeit the Son of God- literally being elevated into the sky in the disciples’ presence- like Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, only without the elevator- this Feast can seem lacking in relevance in the modern world.

Yet historically and doctrinally, the Ascension has been of paramount importance.  It’s central in the Creed that we say day by day in Cathedral Evensong, and to our understanding of the Eucharist, the main Christian act of worship.

This centrality can be seen not least in the vast amount of choral music composed down the ages for this chief Feast of the Church. ‘God is gone up’ by Finzi, that we just heard, is just as a rousing as any Easter anthem, just as full of the joy and conviction of the resurrection.  The piece was composed in 1951 for the annual Festival of St Cecilia Service in London.  In it, we heard how the composer matches the Puritan Metaphysical poet Edward Taylor’s vividly poetic text with suitably dramatic and evocative music, ranging from the magisterial power of the opening trumpet fanfares to the swirling celestial fantasy of the gentler passage, ‘Methinks I see Heaven’s sparkling courtiers fly’.  Taylor’s poem- which extends well beyond the verses set by Finzi- is a beautifully passionate meditation on Philippians 2:9, ‘Therefore God also highly exalted him’.

Like the writers and composers who came after him, the writer of the letter to the Ephesians draws on the inspiration of biblical texts to get to the heart of why the Ascension is vital to our faith.  The verses we heard earlier in our service this afternoon, “When he ascended on high, he made captivity itself a captive; he gave gifts to his people” (from Chapter 4, verse 8 and following) are among the hardest to interpret in the whole letter.

Here, this writer is drawing on the strong imagery of Psalm 68:18, which the choir also sang earlier: “Thou art gone up on high, thou hast led captivity captive, and received gifts for men”.  It may be that an early Christianized version of this text had been made into a hymn that was sung in the Church community, a bit like the Benedictus or the Magnificat that we still sing today, like them drawing on Old Testament texts to proclaim the Christian message of salvation, but now lost.

Or it may be that the writer was guided by Jewish interpretations of the Psalm 68 verse at the time that changed the meaning slightly.  In these interpretations, gifts received become gifts given, for example- and in the Jewish interpretation, the psalm wasn’t about God ascending, as the psalm text suggests, but about Moses, ascending Mount Sinai and also ascending beyond that to heaven, to have a mystical encounter with God.  In Ephesians, it’s Christ, not Moses, who “ascended”.  His “gifts” are not the Torah, but Christian salvation.  As we read in the beginning of the Gospel of John, another writer interested in the parallels between these two characters, “The law was given through Moses; grace and truth…through Jesus” (John 1:17).

New Testament writers didn’t use the language of Christ going up on high because they believed in celestial space elevators, or that God lives in a literal place above the clouds, any more than we do.  But they used the strong pictorial language and images of Old Testament poems and psalms to tell us that, after a while, Jesus appeared no more in material form to his disciples. 

This is the transition that Ascension Day marks. It signals that the disorienting, life-changing events of the resurrection, and the very personal, bewildering yet exhilarating interactions the disciples had had with the risen Jesus, had now come to an end.  The Ascension is the moment when Jesus goes away, and yet also- paradoxically- when he becomes more deeply and permanently present: “I am with you always, to the end of the age” he says in Matthew’s version, at the end of his gospel.  With his ascension, Christ’s death and resurrection take root and become embedded in our lives.  We see the world in a new way, because we’re seeing it through his eyes, as our lives are conformed to his.

Ephesians further tells us that, when Christ ascended, “he had also descended into the lower parts of the earth” (Ephesians 4:9).  It’s not clear exactly what this curious phrase means.  But from this and similar verses came the early Christian doctrine of the “harrowing of hell”, where Christ is imagined to go down into the underworld after his death to search out and save all those who had died before his coming, raiding the enemy territory to free hostages and bring them home.

In our contemporary world where images of hostages and prisoners fill our screens day by day, this image of the power of the redeeming cross has fresh resonance.  It’s potent in Eastern Orthodox Christianity, where the main icon for Easter is an image not of Easter morning but of Holy Saturday, of Christ balancing on the fallen doors, the fallen prison gates of Hell which have fallen in the shape of a cross, Christ straddling these gates, one foot on each, reaching out, grabbing Adam with his right hand and Eve with his left.  And behind Adam and Eve are all the great figures of pre-Christian times waiting to be brought home- Satan’s hostages being freed (see Rowan Williams, God with Us: The meaning of the cross and resurrection, Then and now (SPCK, 2017), p.44-51).

Freedom is the note that the writer to the Ephesians is sounding, when he speaks of Christ’s victory, his capturing of captivity itself.  Jesus’ exaltation to heaven is at the same time his lifting up on the cross, which is also his descent into death, defeating “captivity” or sin and death.  Yet, in another meaning of this passage, we’re freed only to be taken captive again, captivated this time by Christ.  Elsewhere, the apostles are described as “fellow prisoners of war” and earlier in Ephesians Paul himself is described as a “prisoner for Christ Jesus” (3:1).  The powers of this world are still at work, and at the Ascension, the apostles, as captives of Christ, through their leadership are given spiritual gifts to aid them in their calling, just as the gifts given by the Spirit are for all of us, as we join in God’s freeing, reconciling work on down on earth.

I finish with the ending of Edward Taylor’s meditation on Jesus’ exaltation, in the part that comes immediately after the words set in today’s anthem:

Art thou ascended up on high, my Lord,
And must I be without thee here below?
Art thou the sweetest joy the Heavens afford?
Oh! that I with thee was! What shall I do?
Should I pluck Feathers from an Angells Wing,
They could not waft me up to thee my King.

Lend mee thy Wings, my Lord, I’st fly apace,
My Soules Arms stud with thy strong Quills, true Faith;
My Quills then Feather with thy Saving Grace,
My Wings will take the Winde thy Word displai’th.
Then I shall fly up to thy glorious Throne
With my strong Wings whose Feathers are thine own.

Let us pray.

Through the power of the resurrection, we now share the same calling as Jesus, seeing in his light and with his eyes.  So, as our sights are raised to heaven with Christ, so we pray for our communities here on earth, and for our faithfulness and commitment to caring for all, that we might see all people as they are, and praying especially for all who have been oppressed or imprisoned,.  A prayer for Gypsy, Roma and Traveller communities, whose conference has been held here this week, and for all who are not able to live their lives in the full freedom promised by Christ.

Grant us, Lord, a vision of your world as you would have it: a world where peace is built with justice, and where justice is guided by love.  May we know your compassion for all who suffer, and your courage in challenging complacency. We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

We pray for the Church, in this time of waiting for the descent of the gifts of the Spirit.  As we are lifted up through music, prayer and grace, so may the Spirit descend on us to renew and refresh us, to re-captivate our hearts and re-equip us to live as “prisoners for Christ”.  We pray for all preparing for ordination at time, especially for those who will be ordained here and for Sophie, our new curate and for her family at this time of transition.

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten with celestial fire; thou the anointing Spirit art, who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart.

Teach us to know the Father, Son, and thee, of both, to be but One; that through the ages all along this may be our endless song, Alleluia, Amen.