Ascension of the Lord

The disciples’ wonder and confusion at Jesus’ ascension is a comfort to us.

People who have died do not typically eat fish, nor expound upon the scriptures, nor stand among us to offer a blessing and then get whisked away into heaven.

Some things are too big for a single narrative.

Is there anything more embarrassing than believing in a three-story universe?

In his final moments on earth, Jesus delivers a last lecture—with footnotes.

Many religious services sit squarely at the sober end of the spectrum. Psalms of the praise type would beg to disagree.

Luke places Jesus’ final blessing and departure in Bethany—the root of which means “house” or “home.”

Christ has brought the entire cosmos into submission? Frankly, it doesn’t look that way.

Like the disciples at the ascension, we need a little help with interpretation.

If we can be said to have them, we should at least want them to be opened.

What we see reminds us of what we miss, and vice versa.

Ephesians could be a template for a sermon in the style of a pastoral letter.

The disciples did not understand what was happening. What chance do we have? 

In Luke’s postresurrection appearances, the disciples have to reckon with the traumatic somatic.

This seems to be par for the course.

It can be excruciating to long for something just out of reach.

What can we see with the light in our eyes?