Glimpses of Glory

It had been a lovely December flight from California, uneventful and smooth. The sky was vast and blue, golden with radiance. A solid blanket of clouds sat low beneath us. I buckled up for that moment of brief descent through the clouds. I could see the Cleveland-Hopkins airport just ahead. Except . . . we were supposed to be headed to  Akron-Canton . . .? We suddenly pulled up and turned. Rain pelted the windows. We flew just under the clouds, so low that I could watch the cars traveling down I-77. We flew slowly. It felt like an hour of drear and drab: clouds, fog, and rain. I was so ready to get home. We landed into a dark and wet night. And then, for weeks and weeks throughout that winter, the Northwest Ohio “perma-cloud” hovered.  It was gray. It was dismal. But just above those clouds, I remembered,  I knew: the sun shone in a radiant sky. I could not see it. But I knew it was there. 

At the Ascension, Jesus goes home, back to the radiance from which he originally came. He descended into the drab and drear to be with us. But now he has gone back to the brilliance of heaven,  that glory which is not so very far away. He will come back to take us with him.

Today as we celebrate the Ascension, it is not the drab of winter.  It is cheerful June. The sun shines. The oak leaves sparkle. We don’t have to drag radiance out of deep winter memory; its grandeur is here. We get glimpses of that eternal glory here and now, even as we travel through earthly time. The Ascension doesn’t celebrate Jesus’  descent into our dreariness, but the ascent back out of it. The apostles are overjoyed! The Spirit is coming. Wait. Just wait! 

Consider/Discuss 

• As I write this, I am so done with waiting, waiting for a grandchild to be born, concerned about my daughter-in-law with her child now twenty days overdue. Trying to trust. Living in a perma-cloud of worry. And not doing well. What kind of weather are you living in today? Are you flying through a winter of fog? Are you living in a summer of joy? Where is the glory of  God in your earthly travels today? 
• The Canticle of Canticles says, “I sleep but my heart watches.” How can we learn to be present always to that Radiance who is so near, shining always,  even when life feels dreary and drab? 

Living and Praying with the Word 

Jesus, why did you have to go away? We need you. We stand and look at the clouds. Sometimes those clouds threaten to overwhelm us. Where are you? Fill us with a long vision of life, that all will be well. Today it doesn’t feel that way. Yet you are our hope. Above the clouds, we know that the sky is blue. You are our joy. Help us to recognize that our earthly plodding is beautifully graced, for you are the eternity who radiates into our earthly time. Strengthen our trust as we wait for your Spirit. Send us your power from on high!