The Ascension of the Lord

St. Mary by the Sea Catholic Church

Rockaway, Oregon

Fr. Larry Gooley and Fr. Mark

The pilgrimage continued today with a worthy beginning: the celebration of the Eucharist on the Lord's Day. We would be hard pressed to think of a better way to start! Fr. Larry Gooley was a gracious host at St. Mary by the Sea and it was a blessing to be with the parish community at Rockaway. I walked away from Mass with these thoughts and pondered them for the following 11 miles:
The Ascension of the Lord is about what unites us. Christ’s Ascension is the dissolution of the last boundary that keeps us from what we are called to be and from where we are called to be. What the early Church discovered after the Resurrection was that, where God was concerned, there were no more boundaries. As St. Paul put it after he caught on, "there is no more Jew, no more Greek, no more male nor female." It all began as the biggest of all boundaries came down on the day of the Annunciation when the young St. Mary in Nazareth said "yes" to the angel who came to announce the end of the boundary: "The Word was Made Flesh". The boundary between the human and the divine was ended with the Incarnation when God crossed the boundary between heaven and earth.
Even more, when the perfect obedience of His Son was complete, a human being crossed the boundary of death to life and of earth to heaven. With that, it was all over for walls, boundaries, fences, and anything else that keeps people apart . . . people from God. This is what we celebrated today in our Christian tradition,
a human being crossed the boundary of death to life and of earth to heaven.
It dawned on me today, when passing from Rockaway to Barview to Garibaldi to Bay City to Tillamook (all in 11 miles), that the Ascension means it is over for walls and divisions. Again, isn't that what we celebrated today,  the crossing of the boundary, the end of the limits, the collapse of anything that keeps us from the presence of God? And so, it seems that what matters today, in our life time, in this age of history is not what separates us, but what unites us: our life in God through Christ in the Holy Spirit.
We cannot be faithful to Christ and the plan of God and willingly settle for boundaries that divide and separate. As he crossed the last boundary, the Risen Christ, who had already left behind the boundaries of human flesh and blood, gave a final instruction and mandate to those who would follow him across the divide. They were to translate words into works, decisions into deeds, and goals into achievements. Cheap talk was to become precious action. There were walls to take down, fences to remove, bridges to mend, and a divine plan for creation to complete. It is our mission, our purpose in life; and it becomes more than our vision, it becomes our very identity: who we are and what we are -- healers, forgivers, builders, disciples. Regardless of the name or what we are called, the mission is the same.

Today's journey also offered me some time to reflect on a childhood experience. Perhaps you have heard me tell this story, but it bears repeating. The first summer that I was on the family farm in North Dakota, my Grandmother Elizabeth put me in charge of raising 100 chickens (from chicks to maturity). Among my summer-long chores was to feed and water them and make sure they stayed in the farmyard. Even at twelve years of age, I was up to the task. Toward the end of the summer, my Great Uncle Frank visited with some other family members and my Grandmother sent me to pick out two of the now-mature chickens. Naturally, I thought she wanted to show them off and let everyone see how well I had done in raising them. She had something else in mind. Dinner! When I approached the house, I saw her sharpening her knife and I realized that the chickens weren't pets. They were . . . well, dinner. I recall pushing my food around the plate but not really eating anything that night. In a moment of tender care, my Grandmother approached me before bedtime to say, "In the city, people think chickens come from the grocery store. But this is where they really come from and it's good that you've learned this." I share that story tonight as a prelude to a comment for all cheese and milk lovers. Those sorts of things don't come from the grocery store, they come from Tillamook! And they come from the cows in Tillamook. The cows who create a quite strong odor that you never really get away from in Tillamook. It's a delightful town and the people here have been very hospitable and I'm sure all of the area farmers and ranchers are happy to hold their noses as they go to the bank regularly! The rest of us just have to be careful when stepping outside and taking a deep breath.

Tomorrow, Monday, will find us heading for Beaver. I'll be wearing my green and yellow Duck baseball cap with pride.