Christus Victor

From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

Christus Victor: 5th June 2011: pm: The Very Revd Frank Nelson

• Psalm 47
• Isaiah 65: 17 - 25
• Ephesians 1: 15 - 23

In a beautiful service last Thursday night we celebrated Ascension Day. One of the things I still miss from my childhood is the public holiday for Ascension Day. At least in my memory the day was always sunny. We would worship together in church and then pile into cars and head off to a local farm for the Sunday School picnic. I have vivid memories of the games and competitions. Trying to eat donuts off a string dancing between two trees; getting thoroughly wet as, with hands behind our backs, we tried to get hold of an apple floating in a bucket of water; the smell of sausages cooking on the barbecue; standing, it seemed forever, in a line clutching a paper plate waiting to have it filled with salad, bread and meat. Ascension Day marked the end of Easter, and the beginning of a week of prayer for Christian Unity before Pentecost – even though there seemed to be precious little unity between the various churches.

The Feast of the Ascension is one of those slightly odd festivals the church keeps. We’re not always sure quite what to make of it, or how to observe it. As a child it always seemed strange to me that the Paschal candle was blown out half-way through the service. The explanation offered that this symbolized Jesus going up into heaven seemed unsatisfying and illogical. Had Jesus really abandoned us? Of course, there are the readings from John’s Gospel which we have heard over the past few weeks where Jesus prepares his disciples for his departure. And what to make of this sudden disappearance into the sky? Why, when, at the end of Luke’s Gospel the Ascension happens on Easter Day, does it happen forty days later in Acts – the 2nd volume written by Luke?

A little bit of history, and then a few thoughts on how we might understand and use Ascension today. The Ascension of Christ is intimately linked with the Resurrection. This is clearly brought out by the writer to the Ephesians in tonight’s 2nd reading: “God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places.” (Eph 1: 20) In the very early days of the church the Resurrection, Ascension and the giving of the Holy Spirit (Pentecost), were all rolled into one. Slowly they became separated, more uniquely identified, focused if you like on a particular aspect of the whole. Influenced by Acts chapter 1 the forty days became important, at times overshadowing the 50 days from Easter to Pentecost. But there have always been other ways of looking at things.

Today we see the Easter Season as lasting fifty days, counting the Sundays of, rather than after, Easter. Some speak of this Easter season as being one long Sunday – celebrating the Resurrection. If you are into numbers and counting, you will have worked out that the fifty days makes up one seventh of the year. We might also note that the celebration of Easter, including Pentecost and Ascension is very early – when Christians were still clearly conscious of their Jewish origins – and used the cycles of the moon in their dating. Easter Day, along with Ascension and Pentecost, both of which are counted from Easter Day, is the only date in the Christian calendar still following a lunar calendar. Christmas and the plethora of saints’ days are all dependant on the cycle of the sun.

That’s all very well and possibly interesting to some, but what are we to make of this idea of Christ ascending to heaven? Is Christ the great sky king, far away, up there somewhere? Do we, as we say in the Creeds, really expect him to leave the right hand of the Father, and come again to judge the living and the dead? And where exactly is the right hand of the Father?

Most of the hymns and prayers specifically associated with Ascension are pretty triumphalist. Crown him with many crowns; the Lord is King; the head that once was crowned with thorns is crowned with glory now. We use phrases such as King of kings and Lord of lords. The language is grand and flamboyant. It is also always tempered with the servant image of the foot-washing Christ(John 13); the obedient, self-emptying Christ of Philippians; the Christ who chose a donkey, had time for the ‘little’ people and stood silent before the taunting of his accusers. In the Ascension God is vindicated, and the cross is transformed from a hated symbol of oppression and death, into one of freedom, opportunity and life. These contrasting ideas are reflected in the different crosses we use in our iconography – the crucifix, the empty cross and the so-called Christus Victor.

Not only is Jesus Christ raised from the dead and seated at the right hand of God in glory, but there is a specific instruction and provision for those who follow him. Once we have moved beyond the picture of Jesus being lifted up into heaven, we need to notice what else is happening in the Ascension stories. Jesus tells his disciples to wait for the gift of the Holy Spirit; and then to go out into the world as his witnesses. From now on the disciples themselves are transformed – no longer a bunch of ignorant men dependant on their teacher, cowering in their locked houses wondering whether they will be the next on the cross. They are to be the Church – the Body of Christ – charged with the task of being Christ in the world; and encouraged, energized and empowered by the Holy Spirit – God’s gift to the Church. This is both thrilling and terrifying for those of us who have been baptized and made members of the Church.

In the overall theme of the Easter Season which, remember, is celebrated for fifty days from Easter Day to Pentecost, Ascension marks an end and a beginning. It suggests that the Church has come of age, no longer dependant on the physical presence of Jesus of Nazareth. It suggests too that, good as it is to come together to worship God as we do tonight, the real work of God, the real impact of the Church, the Body of Christ, is done when we stop gazing up into heaven, place ourselves in the way of the Holy Spirit, and then get on with living the Gospel in our daily lives.

The Feast of the Ascension can function as a useful milestone – the sort of thing that, on a journey, causes us to pause, take stock, perhaps re-stock, and then go on. Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun, writes about the need to stop the busyness of life, and remember that we, as Christians, have light to give to the world. In a short passage about the importance of candles, of a warm fire, places in which to rest, she writes:

“These are busy people, these sisters of mine. They work with the poor and console the dying and feed the hungry and witness to peace and care for the elderly and teach the underprivileged and study and serve and welcome and give warmth everywhere they are, day after day after day. But they are never too busy, it seems, to realize that life is not only lived in doing. They are not so involved in work that they forget that we have no light to give to others unless we first of all have it in ourselves.” Wisdom distilled from the daily.

Sometimes the words of our hymns say it better than the words of a preacher. Tonight’s service will end with a hymn written a few decades ago – pulling together into a few verses the Gospel story – the story that drives our lives as Christians. Among the verses to notice tonight is the penultimate one:

Tell of his reign at God’s right hand, by all creation glorified. He sends his Spirit on his church to live for him, the lamb who died. We have a Gospel to proclaim. CP 612

May that be our song, our prayer, our life, this week.