As we celebrate Ascension Sunday this weekend in many dioceses in the US, including us here in the Portland Archdiocese, we are invited to reflect on what it means to let go, so that we can flourish and realize our greatest potential – or, in the words of the Scriptures, so that our joy in the end may be
complete. I can only imagine the reaction of the disciples in their bewilderment when he told them in another version of the Gospel today, “I need to go away. In a little awhile, you will no longer see me and a little while longer you will see me.”
Intimacy is a curious thing, deep and paradoxical. Inside intimacy, presence and absence play on each other in such a way that, on a given day and in a given season of a relationship, it’s hard to tell which provides the deeper connection. Sometimes, when we are physically present to each other, we can’t give each other what we need to, and we must go away, at least for a time, in order for that to happen. What do I mean by this? I grew up in a predominantly male-centric family. I have four brothers and no sisters. My Mom was the only woman in our family for quite sometime until my two other siblings got married, so now I have sisters-in-law and nieces who have become part of our immediate family. Probably it’s a “man-thing”, a guy-thing, but we didn’t grow up really verbalizing how we feel with each other; yes, we know how much we love each other, but we weren’t used to saying “I love you” or anything to that effect. This all changed when we all left and started our own lives. Probably because of distance and that longing to see each other, now without fail, I always say ‘I love you” to my Mom before we end our conversation. But, it took this separation, this distance, in order for me to verbalize what I have always demonstrated internally.
Sometimes only our absence can deepen and cleanse our presence. Sometimes, it’s better that we go away, for a day or for a
season, so that we can truly enter into the depths of our inmost being and feelings, thus true to who we really are. That is part of the mystery, the theology, and the psychology of the Ascension.
At one level, this is a mystery, yet we have a sense of how it works. As a parent, you experience this when your children grow up and move away. First, there is the pain of letting them go, but eventually, there is the joy of having those same children come back and stand before you in a new way, as adults who can now befriend you and be with you in a way that they couldn’t as children. But, this doesn’t happen unless your children first go away. Good parents know that by hanging on too tightly, by not giving your
children the space within which to be absent, you not only stunt their growth, but you deprive yourselves of eventually having a wonderful adult come back to you with something deeper to give than the dependent love of a child. That’s true in every relationship.
Jesus tries, painstakingly and repeatedly, to teach this to his disciples before his ascension. He tells them, again and again: “It is better for you that I go away. If I do not go away I cannot send you the spirit. You will grieve now, but later you will rejoice.”
It took me years to understand, even partially, what Jesus meant by those words, and I’m still struggling, perhaps more in my heart than in my head, to accept that at times we have to go away in order for our spirits to bloom more fully and be capable of being received by those we love most, beyond the tensions and irritations that forever cloud relationships.
When children leave home for the first time to begin lives on their own, in one fashion or another, they are saying to their parents what Jesus said to his disciples before his ascension: “It is better for you that I go away. If I do not go away, I cannot come back to you in a deeper way!”
And, sometimes, this going away is not the “going away” that we want to see or experience. One of the “going aways” that deeply hurts parents in a very real way, especially for parents who have done their best to provide a loving and caring home for their children, including sending them to Catholic schools, is when children decide that they no longer want to practice the faith or they have decided to practice another religion. This is a real agony and sorrow that I witness from very loving and religious Catholic parents. But, at times, this type of “going away”, we might say, a negative one, could lead to a deeper appreciation of one’s faith if one is really serious about finding the truth. Why do I say that? Because, even if the person has strayed away from the faith and is exploring another option, as long as his/her search for the truth is genuine, then the person would eventually be led back to the
Catholic faith, because we know that the fullness of truth resides in our faith. What the parents need to do is to continue to love them unconditionally and witness to the Catholic faith with joy and not with intimidation or coercion. Coercion or forcing them to be at Church just doesn’t work. Let them be, while continuing to be a big presence in their lives! And, continue to shower them with love so that as they search for the truth themselves, you are there, ready to help them with their questions and search. Again, if they are genuinely searching for the truth, they will be led back to the Catholic faith. Their going away would eventually lead them home! At some point in their lives – they would be back to the faith – more committed, serious and mature. It just takes time, and often times, a lot of re-routing until they realize themselves that they have the real deal already from the beginning – but, they have to discover it themselves with a painful price and process.
Let me end this reflection with some excellent words from Fr. Ron Rolhieser who said: “The mystery of saying goodbye is really the mystery of the Ascension, the most under-understood mystery both inside and outside of religion. The Ascension is about going away so that our loved ones can fully receive our spirit. It’s about the mystery of saying goodbye, when goodbye isn’t really goodbye at all, but only love’s way of taking on a different modality so that it can be present in a way that’s deeper, purer, more
permanent, less-clinging, and less-limited by the tensions, disappointments, inadequacies, wounds, and betrayals that, this side of eternity, forever make our intimacy a work in progress." So, it’s not really good-bye, but only see you again sometime.
To end this reflection, I would like to impart this special blessing to all mothers on their special day: “Loving God, as a mother gives life and nourishment to her children, so you watch over your Church. Bless these women, that they may be strengthened as Christian mothers. Let the example of their faith and love shine forth. Grant that we, their sons and daughters, may honor them always with a spirit of profound respect. Grant this through Christ our Lord.” Happy Mother’s Day!