Ascension, Presence, and... Absence?

Ever notice how hard it is to find scholarly commentary on the Ascension of Christ? Probably you haven’t, because Ascension is one of those feasts that seems to slip by practically unnoticed; it’s hard to imagine a packed church for the feast, let alone anyone scouring the religion section at Barnes and Noble for the latest theological discourse on the event. Nonetheless, although it seems lost between Pascha and Pentecost and so inconveniently always falls on a Thursday, Ascension is for me perhaps the highlight of the year: I was received into the Holy Orthodox Church on that very feast. And as I write this, I am anticipating two upcoming - and, as you will see, connected - ecclesial events: Ascension 2005 (the seventh anniversary of my reception into the Church) and the end of the 40 days of mourning for the newly-reposed Archpriest John Platko.

Admittedly, I haven’t looked extensively, but I’ve succeeded in finding only two scholarly treatises on the Ascension. Over the five or so years of their presence on my radar screen, I’ve read two-thirds of one….not a very good track record. Dr. Douglas Farrow’s book, Ascension and Ecclesia, stands impressively on one of my shelves, gracefully hiding all evidence that after starting it with vigor back in 2000, I didn’t make it past page 188. In a rare moment of lucid memory, however, I do recall that he notes that the “problem” the Ascension creates is the tension between the absence of Christ and His continued presence in the Church. Or something like that. Skimming back over my ever-present comments scratched in the margins of the book, I see that by the third page I was already scrawling red question marks by this concept of absence.

Ascension? Of course. Presence? Got it. But absence? Christ promises He will be with us to the end of the age. He sent the Spirit in Whom He ministers to indwell us. We confess the Eucharist to be Christ Himself, Who being offered and is offering, is the One Who serves every Divine Liturgy for us. Just as Christ – being on earth – never left His heavenly abode, so He now sits at the right hand of the Father in Heaven and simultaneously remains with us below. Au contraire, Dr. Farrow, it is precisely in this so-called absence that He is most present.

And the more I think about it, the more it seems to me that presence-in-absence is a principle infusing much of our Orthodox journey. Fr. John’s role in my own life is a perfect example of this. I probably saw him less that 10 times in my life. I doubt we ever conversed for more than three minutes at a time. To the carnal eye, Fr. John was not only absent from my life: he was almost irrelevant. But the spiritual eye reveals a very different picture. As I, at that time a convinced Protestant, hurled theological questions at a new internet friend back in the early 1990s, I know that on some occasions her priest, Fr. John, was pinch hitting for her, slipping her answers to send on to me. Lyne ultimately became my godmother. A few years later, Fr. John and I became godparents to Lyne’s son, Stephen: we were now united by a tie that the Church considers as strong as those created by blood. I felt great peace, knowing that Stephen was in constant contact with a godfather who could mentor him in all aspects of the faith.

Fr. John was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last fall and didn’t live long enough to serve Pascha with the community he had shepherded for over 20 years. We sang him away four days before Lazarus Saturday. I flew down to Kansas City for the funeral, and on the trip home to Chicago our plane encountered a thunderstorm. The storm actually didn’t affect the flight too much, but the sight of lightning flashing around us was enough to unnerve me. I mumbled something along the lines of, “Fr. John, you got me into this, now you better get me out!” And God heard his prayers.

In "departing" to the Father, Archpriest John’s presence has become more palpable than ever.

The kontakion of Ascension reads:

When Thou didst fulfill the dispensation for our sake, and unite earth to heaven: Thou didst ascend in glory, O Christ our God, not being parted from those who love Thee, but remaining with them and crying: I am with you and no one will be against you!

Not a word about absence. In fact, quite the opposite: the Ascension and the sending of the Spirit that flows from it is the foundation of our unity with Christ and one another, regardless of where that other might be.

May God grant peace to the soul of his servant, Archpriest John, and to us a greater understanding and appreciation of the reality and meaning of His Son’s Ascension!



Fr. John, serving at the old Holy Trinity Orthodox Church in Kansas City, KS (the new church is located in Overland Park, KS)