Homily - The Ascension of the Lord

 

Homily

The Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord

Sunday, May 17, 2026

 

Happy Easter! Today we celebrate the Ascension of the Lord, forty plus three days after the Resurrection. More days than Lent. More days for a reason. We can’t have the suffering, death and resurrection without the Ascension. Today, we stand with the Resurrected and Ascended Christ. The suffering is over; the celebration begun. Soon, we will return to Ordinary Time, a time where we reflect on the life and ministry of Jesus. But that is then and this is now.

 

Today, we stand with the disciples on the Mount of Olives and watch as Jesus is lifted up into heaven. The cloud receives Him, and He disappears from their sight. At first glance, it feels like an ending, a farewell that leaves us feeling lost, behind, without. But the Church has always understood the Ascension not as absence, but as presence in a new and more powerful way. Jesus has not left us. He has gone where He belongs, to the right hand of the Father. And from there He is more present to us than ever before. It sounds counterintuitive, but as with most things with Jesus, it is obvious, logical, expected, planned from the beginning of creation.

 

In the first reading from Acts, the angels gently rebuke the apostles: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up at the sky?” You can almost imagine the dumbfounded look on their faces; the disciples staring at the place where Jesus used to be, when they should be preparing for what comes next. Jesus has taken His rightful place in heaven, not to abandon His friends, not to leave the world, but to fill it completely. He has not withdrawn; He has expanded.

 

This is the great paradox of the Ascension: by going up, up, and away, Jesus comes closer. By leaving in the body, He remains with us in the Spirit and Sacramentally. He is no longer limited by time and space. He is not confined to one village in Galilee or one upper room in Jerusalem. Now, seated at the Father’s right hand, He is present everywhere; in every tabernacle, in every baptized soul, in every act of love, in every sharing of mercy, and every stand of courage.

 

In the second reading, St. Paul tells us that God has put all things beneath Christ’s feet and made Him head over all things for the Church. Think about that: the same man, body and blood, flash and bone, Jesus, who touched us with His hands, who walked dusty roads, His feet clad in sandals, who healed the sick and forgave sinners, who died on a cross, is the same cosmic Lord of creation, divine and infinite. And yet He has not forgotten us. He carries our humanity with Him into heaven. The wounds in His hands and feet are still visible. He has brought our human nature, your very nature and mine, but perfected and glorified, into the very heart of the Trinity.

 

This is why we do not grieve today. We rejoice. Jesus is where He belongs, and because He is there, we know our own destiny, as He promised. Where the head has gone, the body will follow. Heaven is now our true home. The Ascension is the guarantee that this world is not the end of the story.

 

But what does this mean for us here and now, in this moment, in our daily lives? It means Jesus is not a distant memory. He is not an historical figure locked in the past, remembered in the pages of a book. He is alive, active, and close. He is with the mother caring for her sick child at 3 a.m. He is with the worker who feels invisible in his job. He is with the young person wrestling with doubt and the elderly person facing loneliness. He is with every one of us, especially when we feel abandoned, anxious, or overwhelmed.

 

Because Christ has ascended, we are never alone. The same Lord who promised “I am with you always, until the end of the age” keeps that promise from heaven. He sends His Holy Spirit. He feeds us with His own Body and Blood. He speaks to us in the Scriptures. He works through His Church and through every act of charity and justice we perform. He is you and me.

 

The Ascension calls us to stop staring at the sky and start living on earth with heaven in our hearts. It calls us to be witnesses, to share the Good News. Jesus told the apostles they would receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon them, and they would be His witnesses to the ends of the earth. That mission is ours today. That mission is our directive as we are dismissed and leave this Mass.

 

So let us live as an Ascension people, people who know that Christ reigns, that evil does not have the last word, and that our citizenship is in heaven. Let us carry the joy of the risen and ascended Lord into our homes, our workplaces, our schools, and our neighborhoods. Let it show on our face. Let us be signs that Jesus is alive and still with us, moving among us.

 

As we approach the great feast of Pentecost, let us open our hearts to the Holy Spirit, who makes the ascended Christ present among us. And may we lift up our eyes, not with sadness, but with hope, knowing that Jesus has gone before us to prepare a place, and that He remains with us until He brings us at last to that place where we belong.