Ascension: Christianity's Most Important Forgotten Feast

Ascension is often called the forgotten feast. This is because it falls on a Thursday and so often goes unnoticed, especially in countries like ours that do not observe the Ascension as a public holiday. For this reason the Roman Catholic Church allows certain jurisdictions to transfer the feast to the following Sunday. Unfortunately Episcopalians have not been given this permission. Yet many Episcopal parishes still unofficially observe “Ascension Sunday” on the Seventh Sunday of Easter. 

The Feast of the Ascension commemorates the occasion when Jesus was taken up into heaven and seated at the right hand of God. In the Book of Acts this ascent is depicted as an event that occurred 40 days after the resurrection and witnessed by Jesus’ disciples. The descriptions given in Scripture are vivid and memorable: 

So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God. (Mark 16:19)

While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. (Luke 24:51)

As they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. (Acts 1:9)

 Jesus’ ascent and exaltation also features in many of our favorite hymns:

Hail the day that sees him rise [Alleluia!] glorious to his native skies [Alleluia!]  Christ, awhile to mortals given [Alleluia!] enters now the highest heavens  [Alleluia!] (Charles Wesley)

Crown him with many crowns, the Lamb upon his throne. Hark! how the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own! (Matthew Bridges)

As an article of faith the Ascension is easy to visualize; yet it is also one of the most difficult for people in the modern age to accept. This is because the idea is grounded in an ancient cosmology that envisions heaven as a place somewhere above us, beyond the visible sky. This may not present a problem for those who take a stubbornly literal approach to Scripture. But for others the issue is not quite that simple.

We might enjoy metaphors of cosmic exaltation in our hymns, but are we really expected to believe that Jesus was physically lifted into the skies? That he travelled through outer space, and then sat down on an actual throne at God’s right hand in heaven?  Is this what our creeds mean when they say, “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father”? 

Before we get too far ahead of ourselves, we should note that Jesus’ exaltation in heaven (however we might understand this), along with his death and resurrection, has always been considered a foundational doctrine of the Christian faith. It is a hallmark teaching of the New Testament, particularly in Paul’s letters, but in other books as well:

Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us. (Romans 8:34)

Therefore God also highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name… (Philippians 2:9) 

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places… (Ephesians 1:20)

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. (Colossians 3:1)

Jesus Christ…who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers made subject to him. (1 Peter 3:22)

Yet, interestingly, while many passages in the NT ascribe metaphors of heavenly enthronement to Jesus, very few can be found that actually describe this in terms of a physical event that could, at least in part, be witnessed by others. Not even Paul alludes to Jesus’ exaltation as an observable event. Rather, the exaltation of Jesus for Paul occurs in “the heavenly places,” outside of human observation – a faith-event rather than a historical one.

In fact, only three NT passages describe the ascent of Jesus as a physical event: two in Luke’s writings (Luke and Acts), and one at the end of Mark’s gospel. Yet the occurrence in Mark is an unusual case. Originally Mark’s gospel ended with the women fleeing in fear over the empty tomb (Mark 16:8). However, someone in the second century CE thought it would be a good idea to give Mark a “better” ending (scholars call 16:9-20 Mark’s “longer ending”). This new ending included both a resurrection appearance and a brief description of Jesus’ ascent into heaven. This means that out of the three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) only Luke has an early ascension tradition. 

Matthew’s gospel is another interesting case. Matthew ends abruptly on a mountaintop in Galilee with the risen Jesus giving his Great Commission to his disciples (28:16-20). There he tells them that “all authority in heaven and on earth” had been given to him (18). But when did this happen? With no ascension-event in view Matthew’s audience is left to conclude that this authority must have been conferred at the resurrection in view of Jesus’ victory over death. It does not even appear that Jesus was going away, for his very last words to them were “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (20). While readers are left to ponder whether Jesus will ever make himself visible to them again, there is no question about what should happen next: “Go…make disciples” (19).

John’s gospel (the last one written) contains three instances where ascension language is employed in speeches attributed to Jesus:

No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. (John 3:13)

Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? (John 6:62)

Jesus said to [Mary], “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”  (John 20:17) 

The ascension language in the first two cases relates to Jesus’ reference to himself as the “Son of Man.” Most scholars agree that this alludes to the prophet Daniel’s vision of “one like a son of man” (Daniel 7:13). Whatever implications we might draw from this, a post-resurrection ascent cannot be one of them. Prophetically speaking, the Son of Man’s ascent is a fait accompli. 

The third case, however, demonstrates that the Johannine community did indeed have some kind of post-resurrection ascension tradition. But exactly what this looks like continues to baffle scholars. After all, why should Mary Magdalene be prohibited from touching the resurrected-but-not-yet-ascended Jesus, when later that same day the disciples would be invited to do just that? Could it be that the Johannines believed that a heavenly ascent took place (without witnesses) just prior to Jesus’ appearance to his disciples? 

All of these threads lead back to Luke as the originator of the ascension-event tradition. Yet Luke is responsible not just for one, but two such traditions: the one described at the end of his gospel (24:50-53) and the one described in the first chapter of Acts (6-11). The first takes place on Easter evening after a short journey “as far as Bethany,” nearly two miles from Jerusalem. The second takes place forty days later on the Mount of Olives, described as a “sabbath’s day journey” – or 1/2 mile – from Jerusalem (in the same general vicinity as Bethany). The disciples are witnesses in both traditions.

While these differences may not present insurmountable obstacles for the clever apologist (of literalist bent), they are nothing to sneeze at either. What would it have cost Luke in terms of brevity to simply add the words “after forty days” to his gospel in order to ensure that his readers did not misunderstand him as suggesting that the ascension took place on Easter?

The more important thing to note about the presence of these two traditions in Luke is that it indicates that he probably did not make up the story himself. Luke either inherited the story from his community or gleaned it from his sources, or perhaps a little of both. This should not surprise us. The four gospels share a remarkable commonality in their features. Yet each represents its own unique tradition, preserving historical and/or legendary elements that the others do not have. At times these various elements complement each other; at other times they make reconciliation difficult.

The ascension story in Luke’s gospel no doubt represents the original tradition known to his community, while the story in Acts represents Luke’s literary expansion of it. The original tradition addresses issues left unresolved in the other gospels, like, where Jesus went after his resurrection, and when and why Jesus ceased to make appearances. Luke’s later embellishment of it was obviously intended to do much more. 

Tradition holds that Luke was a companion of the Apostle Paul, and the Book of Acts seems to support this view. Many Christians might find it difficult to imagine factions or divisions within the early church. However, the evidence in both the New Testament and early church history points to Paul as a controversial figure, if not a polarizing one. The idea that the Book of Acts may have been written to “bridge the gap” between these factions has been around since F.C. Bauer first proposed it in the nineteenth century. This means that Luke might have enlisted the ascension story for a particular purpose, namely to give narrative expression to some of Paul’s ideas, particular his theology of exaltation.

The Book of Acts should really be seen as the second volume of Luke’s gospel, which makes the opening statement of Acts so remarkable. Luke begins by telling his audience that his “first book” describes what Jesus “began” (Greek ērksato) to do and teach. The clear implication here is that his second book will describe what Jesus continued to do through his disciples. Luke then sets the scene with Jesus appearing to the disciples over a course of forty days. Given Paul’s reputation for writing difficult letters this description would reassure those suspicious of him that the other apostles had received forty days of in-person instruction from the risen Jesus.  

This description also supports Paul’s exaltation theology. In Luke’s day, those familiar with Paul letters knew quite well that Christ’s exaltation in the heavenly places meant that his work on earth was not yet finished, that it continues through his Body, the Church. From his heavenly throne, Christ intercedes for us (Romans 8:34), empowers us for ministry (Ephesians 1:20), and spiritually raises us up to where he is seated at God’s right hand (Colossians 3:1), to reign over all things through the power of the good news.

In contrast, those communities influenced more by Mark or Matthew adopted an apocalyptic outlook. That Jesus would soon return to usher in the end of the age and establish an earthly kingdom was a prevalent view in early Christianity. These communities looked not to the “triumphal exit” of Jesus as their motivation for fulfilling the Great Commission, but rather to his “triumphal return.” This explains why Luke would include Jesus’ cryptic answer to the disciples’ question about the timing of the kingdom immediately before his ascension! 

So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”  He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:6-8)

Notice here that Luke does not depict Jesus as simply dismissing their hope for the restoration of the kingdom, but rather Jesus’ answer shifts their focus away from the question of God’s timing towards the more important work that still lies ahead of them – witnessing to the nations. This would have been an important message in the aftermath of the destruction of Jerusalem and its temple in 70 CE. It is no coincidence that this is the period when most scholars believe Luke wrote his two-volume work.

For Christians steeped in the apocalyptic outlook of the Synoptics, and even for those nurtured in John’s esoteric ascension spirituality, Luke’s story of the ascension turned out to be a masterstroke of comprehension, not only in the way it provided narrative support for Paul’s exaltation theology but also in the way it popularized that theology in a memorable story that the Church still commemorates today in its Feast of the Ascension. 

In the final analysis, whether we regard Luke’s story of Jesus’ ascent into heaven as a real physical event witnessed by human observers, or as an early post-resurrection legend packed with metaphoric value (i.e. a faith-event), it really does not matter. Christians of either conviction are able to confess the creed’s affirmation that “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father,” and together acknowledge the transcendent reality of the reign of our risen Lord in and through the Church on earth. So is the Ascension really the forgotten feast? Perhaps, but, then again, perhaps not as much as we might have originally thought.