Ascension : Alchemy of Community and the Power of FaithBy “Knowing Christ” student, Nicole Reinhart

“In saying, ‘He ascended,’ what does it mean but that he had also descended into the lower regions, the earth? He who descended is the one who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things. And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature personhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes.  Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love” (Eph 4:9-16 ESV).

It is somehow fitting that the seminary term now comes to an end within the festival of Ascension.  In this moment of parting, we gaze upon the blooming colors in the church garden as they emerge in tentative trust that a long Toronto winter may finally be at an end.  At the altar we gaze upon a transformation of color that draws us into wonder at a mysterious alchemy [1}.  Easter green, which sings to us the song of new life upon earth, now transforms into glorious gold.  We may imagine this as the same gold that shines from the innermost heart of the Tabernacle where God once dwelt with his people.  Or the gold that is the measuring rod of the New Jerusalem, where the streets are lined with this precious substance and there is no need of “sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light and its lamp is the Lamb” (Rev 21:23 ESV). 

Like the flowers in full bloom and the dandelions relinquishing their seeds to the wind, we students now scatter to our own earthly homes.  This is a scattering throughout the globe, from all over North and South America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, and the Philippines.  It is a joy to imagine the heart of the Seminary Angel growing wide enough to carry so many scattered souls in their life with Jesus Christ.  Some return to congregations in which rich community life weaves and breathes.  Some depart to prepare for children’s camps.  And some return to small affiliates, or the solitude of the wilderness in which they take up their lives with him far from congregational life.  In any regard, we are leaving the intimacy of the seminary hallways, in which the Seminary Angel may bless us with its full grace in all of our endeavors.  As we depart from each other we sense that Jesus Christ has, in his deepest wisdom, woven us together. The alchemy of these relationships, carried tenderly by our own angels and the particular being of Christ who draws near to the priest each day at the altar, is mysterious.  We may never understand their workings in our lives until we stand on the other side of the gate of death, yet we feel their power in our inmost beings.  We have come to know that relationships built beyond sympathies and antipathies and instead rooted in his body, are some of the most fruitful bonds forged in human hearts.  They are forged in the fires of the courage to be radically human, the willingness to be self-reflective and soft hearted in conflict and the turning toward his self-sacrificing love on the Cross.  They are, we could say, bonds of gold—filled with warmth, soft and malleable, and resistant to corrosion and decay.

As we carry some sadness in the scattering from the physical presence of this community, we also watch him ascend into the heavens.  And if we are fully honest with ourselves, we may notice that this time of joy of returning to our earthly homes and families, unfolds side by side with grief.  For we enter now into the time in our festival year when Jesus no longer walks with us upon the earth, but lives invisibly within the earth, within the heart, and within human relationships.  For myself, I always find this festival to be a great test of faith in which it is necessary to tune my heart to his teaching: “A little while, and you will see me no longer: and again a little while, and you will see me” (John 16:16 ESV).  We can imagine that he speaks in this moment to his closest disciples of his suffering, death, resurrection and revelation.  But we may also perceive within this the signature cycle of relationship with him: the cycle of knowing and faithfulness.  There are times he graces us with his presence, perhaps through inner hearing or sight, the deeds of another, the growing and dying activity of a flower, or experiences at his altar.  In these moments we know fully that his reality lives upon the earth.  

At other times he would seem silent and we may find ourselves in doubt.  These are times when only faith can truly sustain us.  In the steadfast words of the poet we may hope we can proclaim, “I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining. I believe in love when I feel it not. I believe in God even when he is silent.[2]”  We may look upon our experiences of the past and grow in the certainty that they are real and trust that such experiences will come again.  We may hope in the work of his Seminary Angel in our lives, even when we are scattered.  We may rejoice in his ascension, knowing that it is the doorway through which he may “fill all things.”  Not only the outer things of earth but every human being who makes a dwelling place for him in their heart.  And from the grace of the Spirit working in our hearts, we may be granted the pathway to maturing in him.  We may carry a prayer that we one day love as he loves, know the Father as he knows, and walk toward the Cross bearing the light of his truth and self-sacrificing love.

 [1] The chasuble, the top most vestment of a priest in the Christian Community is green and red during the festival of Easter and gold and green during the festival of Ascension. 

 [2] Found written on a wall of a World War II concentration camp.

Nicole is a “Knowing Christ” student.  She has the great gift of working in nursing in a mainstream hospital where she strives to bring the light of Christ into the darkest moments in human lives.  When not wrangling her husband and three teenagers into her latest garden project, you will find her walking the pine forests and tide pools of Maine.  You can read more about her seminary journey on her Patreon page https://www.patreon.com/c/hearttree

- This is a blog entry by The Seminary of the Christian Community in North America.  These are posted weekly by the student blog team of Athena Masilungan, Nicole Reinhart, and Lincoln Earle-Centers.  For more information about our seminary, see the website: www.christiancommunityseminary.ca and for more video/audio content check out the Seminary’s Patreon page: www.patreon.com/ccseminary/posts.  

The views expressed in this blog entry are the views of its author, and do not necessarily represent the views of the Seminary, its directors, or the Christian Community.