by Orlando Hernandez.

This Thursday we observe the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord. The first reading describes how “as they were looking on, He was lifted up, and a cloud took Him from their sight. While they were looking intently at the sky as He was going, suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them. They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus that has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen Him going into heaven.’ Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away.” (Acts1: 9-12)

The Gospel of Luke describes this scene like this: “Then He led them as far as Bethany, raised His hands, and blessed them. As He blessed them He parted from them and was taken up to heaven. They did Him homage and then returned to Jerusalem with great joy.” (Lk 24: 50-52)

I was a little troubled when I first read this passage years ago. How could they feel “joy” when they had lost the company of the Beautiful One, risen and glorified? He was “taken up” from them, for how long, centuries?
On December 3, 2011 (it seems like only yesterday!), I was looking out the window of the tour bus as we passed the increasingly populated steep hills of the Judean countryside and we entered a long tunnel. As we emerged into the light, the panorama of the city of Jerusalem lay before us, the golden Dome of the Rock, at its center, the huge, crenelated Turkish wall surrounding the ancient city where our Lord died and resurrected. It was overwhelming. Our guide, Fr. Vasko O.F.M., called our attention to the Mount of Olives on our right, and at the top of the crowded hillside, pointed to a chapel-like structure, perhaps a minaret, which he called “ the place of the Ascension”. I suddenly broke into tears, and foolishly, like a child, I asked within my mind, “Why did You have to go back and leave us, dear God? Why did You leave us like this?” I gazed at the vast mass of humanity of this city, torn by war, destruction, bloodshed and prejudice for some two thousand years! I felt tiny before such a terrible, formidable story.

The next day, the bus took us up through impossibly narrow winding streets to the top of the Mount of Olives, in the Palestinian neighborhood where Bethany used to be. We got off at a dusty, neglected plot where a single, very old-looking domed structure stood, the Chapel of the Ascension. Fr. Vasko told us that a huge Crusader church stood there once. I wondered why the later Muslim rulers decided to let this chapel stand after destroying everything else. Perhaps the answer was inside. Within the empty structure there was nothing but a flat rock with what seemed to be a footprint implanted on it. It was said to be from Jesus’ foot, just as He started to rise into heaven! Fr. Vasco opened the Bible and read passages from the Ascension story. I felt disturbed by it all.

We wound our way down “ the mount called Olivet” past the vast Jewish cemeteries facing the Old City on the other side of the Kidron Valley until we stopped in front of the church Dominus Flevit for a rest stop on the way to the Garden of Gethsemane. My wife and I had been walking with our new found friend, Fr. Bill Kalin, making sure he was safe negotiating the cobblestones. He was an elderly man and his legs were going. But a benefactor had paid for his tour to Israel, and he could not pass it up. He was living in a retirement home near Lincoln, Nebraska,his home state, and he was not too happy about it. He loved talking with my wife and I because it gave him a chance to review his Spanish.This man had spent the last twenty years of his life as a missionary in the garbage dumps somewhere in Venezuela, ministering to the people that actually lived there. All the folks in our group had fallen in love with him. We would all take turns helping him out.

From the place where Jesus wept as He faced the Holy City, I dared to ask Fr. Bill why Jesus had “returned” to heaven and left us without Him. He graciously gave us one of those mini-homilies that he would share with us at different points in our pilgrimage. Most of you readers are probably acquainted with the points that he made. I just wish that I could convey to you the PRESENCE of this gentle, holy man. His very shining self was part of the message. He told us with a smile on his face, “You all know that He has never really left us. But He had to return to heaven for three reasons.” The first reason was that He WAS God, and He had to return to His fully divine state. He was close to His beloved Abba as a man, but we can only guess at the glory of His divine intimacy in union with His Father.
The second reason was a little harder for us to comprehend. “He returned to heaven to prepare a place for us.” Again, I cannot even imagine what this place, these “many rooms” are like. But He did promise us that . Like a child waiting for Christmas I was filled with joy as I looked into Fr. Bill’s blue eyes.

The final reason was the one that satisfied me the most. Fr. Bill joked about how difficult it would have been to meet Jesus if He had remained on Earth as some kind of king, spiritual leader, or pope. Most of us would not even be able to get a five-minute audience with Him! Instead, thanks to His full access to the Divine, Jesus can send us His Holy Spirit (which I believe with all my heart is actually another revelation of His Very Self!) whenever we pray, and seek Him. He is with us individually, one-on-one all the time! He had to “ascend” in order for this to happen.

Fr. Bill had actually told me something that I already knew deep inside. This intimate communion with God was the force that had brought me on that pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Fr. Kalin’s loving talk had just brought this knowledge to light, a light that healed me in many ways and took away the morose state in which I had found myself that day
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Years back we sent him a card to his address in Nebraska. He sent us back a beautiful answer. We’ve been out of touch with him for a while. I wonder how he is doing. I think I’m going to write a letter to this man of God who was so influential in my life. Thank You, ever present, beloved Jesus!
Orlando Hernández