Feast of the Ascension of Our Lord
There is a beautiful story about the great Italian composer Giacomo Puccini. While battling terminal cancer, he poured his remaining energy into his final masterpiece, the opera Turandot. His health rapidly declined, and knowing his time was short, he told his students, "If I don’t finish Turandot, I want you to finish it."
Puccini passed away in 1924, leaving the work incomplete. His dedicated disciples gathered his notes, studied his style, and carefully wrote the remainder of the opera. In 1926, the world premiere took place at La Scala in Milan. When the conductor reached the exact note where Puccini’s manuscript ended, he silenced the orchestra, turned to the audience with tears in his eyes, and said: "Thus far the master wrote, but then he died." A heavy silence filled the hall. Then, he raised his baton again and announced proudly: "But his disciples finished his work." The opera concluded to thunderous applause.
Today, as we celebrate the Ascension of Our Lord, we witness a divine handover. The Ascension is not Jesus’ retirement party, nor is it his disappearance from our lives. It is the glorious "grand finale" of his visible earthly mission, but it is the prelude to our story. Jesus has finished his personal earthly work of redemption, and now he looks at us and says, "Finish the picture. Continue the symphony."
As the Archangel Gabriel asks Jesus in an old legend: "What is your Plan B if Peter, John, and the rest fail?" Jesus simply responds: "I have no other plan. I am counting on them." Today, he is counting on us.
Our readings today give us the exact blueprint for this mission. Before ascending, Jesus gives a blanket command that has every single one of our names on it: "Go into all the world and proclaim the Good News."
There is an vital difference between preaching and proclaiming:
We preach with words.
We proclaim with our lives.
We live in a world that is deeply cynical of words. People are tired of empty rhetoric, and as a philosopher once noted, the modern world is oozing a sort of moral decay. People do not want to just hear about a loving God; they need to see Him. They will see Him through your honesty in business, your patience as a parent, your capacity to forgive those who hurt you, and your willingness to reach out to the lonely, the poor, and the forgotten.
Our lives must be transparent enough that when people look at us, they see a reflection of the Ascended Lord.
You might sit in the pew today and think, "Father, this is too much. I am weak, I have doubts, and my life is messy. How can I carry Christ to others?"
Remember the final words of Jesus in today’s Gospel: "Lo, I am with you always, to the end of time."
Jesus did not leave us to go to a far-off place. By ascending to the right hand of the Father, he broke the boundaries of time and space. When he was physically on earth, he could only be in one town at a time. Now, through the power of the Holy Spirit, he lives inside us. He is present in our struggles, our anxieties, and our daily chores.
The same Holy Spirit that gave power to a group of frightened apostles hiding in an upper room is available to you today. Whenever you feel overwhelmed by anxiety or fear, meditate on the Ascension. It reminds us that our true home is in Heaven, and the trials of this world are only temporary.
In the first reading, as Jesus ascends, the disciples stand there staring blankly into the sky. Two angels appear and gently scold them: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up at the sky?"
The message is clear: Don't just gaze heavenward; go worldwide.
Our faith cannot be a passive routine where we come to church on Sunday just to secure an "insurance policy" for the afterlife. We are called to be dynamic disciples.
Let us leave the church today with a renewed sense of mission. Let us take the baton that Christ has passed to us. Go home to your families, go out to your workplaces, and into your communities, and finish the Master's symphony by living a life of Christian joy, mercy, and loving service.
Amen.