On Him Who Ascended but Remains Ever Present with Us

The Ascension of the Lord. Photo: myslo

Christ ascends to heaven. At first glance, He leaves the disciples, which seems natural: He fulfilled His earthly ministry, accomplished the salvation of the world. However, the meaning of separation from the Savior, the meaning of His leaving the world, is absent in the church's experience of this event. On the contrary, Christ ascended "in no way parting, but remaining ever present." He ascended, and He is with us. This is not such a paradox when considering the omnipresence of God and the constant care of Christ for His Church, one of the Gospel images of which is the Bride of Christ.

"I will not leave you as orphans" (John 14:18), the Lord promised His disciples, and every believer is a living witness that this promise is unwavering.

After all, what fundamentally distinguishes the faith of a Christian from the faith characteristic of the average person's consciousness, where "there is something out there" or "I have God in my soul"? The presence of experience. The experience of God's direct action personally in my soul and personally in my life.

Every truly believing person has such moments in life, and recalling the most vivid of them is usually not difficult. However, in the words of Protopresbyter Alexander Schmemann, everyone also has such memories that cannot really be called memories because they do not surface in the mind from time to time but always live within us. I am sure that the very first experience of God's action towards oneself can be attributed to such memories. This is, in a way, our personal moment of truth. The moment when faith became experience, when the reality of life in God first broke through the everyday hustle and fleshly concerns.

Alas, this experience did not make any of us saints. Essentially, it did not even put an end to our sinful life. Perhaps, by believing, we became better, but not fundamentally better, more likely better versions of our possible selves.

However, can we say that faith did not change anything in us? No, absolutely not. It would be a great misconception to think that the transformation of a person occurs in a visible and noticeable way to all. No, the final result is certainly visible and noticeable. However, the process leading to it takes place within a person. The main thing in it is not the acquisition of some extraordinary abilities for good deeds.

A person's character is not defined by what they are capable of. Even scoundrels can love, and hardened sinners are capable of good deeds.

The action of grace helps a person develop an inability to do evil, a kind of immunity against deceit and baseness, lies and betrayal, callousness and inhumanity, cruelty and self-satisfaction. A Christian begins not with the ability to do good deeds, but with the inability to do evil. Only after this does any good deed acquire significance and meaning, becoming truly good—untainted by any sin, not dictated by any vice, not poisoned by any passion.

Unfortunately, we often stop on this path, getting stuck somewhere between rejecting obvious, blatant sin and the first good deeds that do not require much effort. We can live this way for decades, completely satisfied with ourselves and utterly content with the quality of our "spiritual life."

It is worth recalling that the complacent and unwavering self-righteousness of the best people in Jewish society in the first century forced Christ to say these truly dreadful words to them: "Your house is left to you desolate" (Matthew 23:38).

But let us return to where we started—Christ has not left us, even when ascending to heaven. Remaining with us, He tirelessly cares for us, and in moments when we are too pleased with ourselves, when we are impeccably correct in everything, the familiar and comfortable reality for us often begins to collapse. This destruction does not stop until it becomes obvious to us that being correct and being righteous are far from the same, and our spiritual life is mere lazy stagnation, sometimes turning into running in place.

Let's take a look around: the country is at war, persecution of the Church is gaining momentum, and the world is gradually sinking into a sinister chaos. And in all this, Christ continues to be with us, despite the fact that we ourselves are far from being paragons of Gospel living.

But, astonishingly, do we always remember this? What moods do we find today in what seems to be the Christian community? Fear, cowardice, anger, and even hatred... Yet it is Christians who can change a lot today. No, not in the world, not in the country, and not even in the Church. In themselves. This is not global, it is on a very small scale, it is imperceptible. But it is significant, considering how many Christians there are in the world. And we should not forget that any global changes for the worse happen not without our fault. Does God resort to extreme measures when His chosen ones remain faithful to Him?

However, where to start when even a brief glance at our own deeds and actions can be enough to horrify us? The answer is simple: with small things. With a barely noticeable, perhaps not heavy, everyday sin. A sin that has become a habit, long justified many times, turned into routine and therefore does not awaken the conscience. I assure you, fighting this sin will take a lot of effort, require patience, self-discipline, and willpower. It will stretch over a very long time.

Do not fear that you will lack courage and strength, for Christ is with us. He will always help those who labor and will not shame the faith of those who trust in Him. In fact, all that is required from us is faith, desire, and determination. So that the "ever-present" one remains not only with us but also in us.

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