The feast of Christ’s Ascension places before us one of the supreme events of the divine economy: Christ, the incarnate, crucified, and risen Lord, raises the human nature He assumed into the glory of the Father. And yet, this event is not presented as a spectacle. It does not bear the marks of an overwhelming display that crushes every doubt by the sheer force of its image. The disciples see the Lord ascending, yet what is given to them is not a full comprehension of the event, but only participation in the Mystery. Christ is hidden within the cloud, and thus the Ascension is revealed as Mystery: as a true event, yet one whose full depth cannot be interpreted through sensible experience alone.

This, however, does not concern the Ascension alone. The same spiritual pattern may be seen also in Christ’s Nativity and Resurrection. In the Nativity there are persons connected with the event: the Virgin Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and later the Magi. There is witness, there is adoration, there is glorification. But the exact moment of the Birth is not offered as a spectacle before human eyes; according to tradition, not even Joseph was present. In the Resurrection there are the soldiers, the Myrrh-bearing Women, and the disciples who will meet the Risen One; yet here too no one is presented as a witness of the exact moment when Christ comes forth from the tomb. And in the Ascension, the disciples are present at the beginning of the ascent, but its final completion is lost within the radiant cloud of divine glory. The absence of witnesses from the exact moment of the Nativity, the Resurrection, and the final consummation of the Ascension is not a gap in the narrative, nor a deficiency of proof. It is itself a testimony to the nature of Mystery.

In the experience of the Church, Mystery is not simply something secret or hidden from the many. It is the manner in which God reveals Himself without abolishing human freedom. It is the presence of divine love, which does not impose itself, does not make noise, does not compel. God does not seek to convince man by irresistible proofs; rather, He desires to call him into relationship and communion. Mystery is the mode of divine discretion. God is truly present, yet His activity does not become an object of human control or exhaustive analysis.

Here we may also recall the experience of the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration. The disciples participate in a true revelation of Christ’s glory; they see “as much as they were able,” that is, according to what they could receive. They do not enter into the depth of the way divine glory operates; they partake of it according to the measure given to them. Something similar happens here as well. With the help of divine grace, the human person may participate in the Mystery, taste it, and be illumined by it, yet cannot enter analytically into the “how” of divine activity. Mystery does not abolish knowledge, but leads it into humility. It shows us that the truth of God is not an object of analytical interpretation, but an event of communion.

For this reason, faith in Christ is not a theoretical acceptance of certain truths, nor an outward “religious” fact. It is not ideological assent, nor merely moral conformity. Faith is an experience of life, an experience of relationship, an experience of transfiguration. It is the entrance of the human person into a new reality of being, inaugurated by the Incarnation, sealed by the Cross and Resurrection, and opened toward its fullness through the Ascension and Pentecost.

In this light, the worship of the Church is also rightly understood. The services, the sacred assemblies, and her rites are not theatrical performances aimed at stirring emotion or producing impression. The Church does not organize religious spectacles. Worship is participation in the event of salvation. It is an entrance into the Mystery of the Incarnation and of the whole divine economy. It is remembrance becoming presence, and presence calling the human person to transfiguration. We do not merely observe something that once happened; by grace, we enter into what God is accomplishing for the life of the world.

Of special significance here is also the cloud of the Ascension. In the biblical tradition, the cloud does not signify absence, but presence. It is a sign of divine glory, of the presence of God who is revealed and at the same time veiled, so that man may not imagine that he can exhaust it either by sight or by reason. The cloud accompanies the great theophanies of the history of salvation; it does not conceal God or imply His absence, but reveals Him as the One who is always present and yet surpasses every human conception and description. So also in the Ascension, the cloud reveals that Christ does not simply depart from the world, but enters into the glory that never ceases to embrace creation and to remain active within the Church.

The Ascension of Christ as Mystery and not as spectacle reveals, in the end, not only who God is, but also what the ethos of the Church and of the Christian must be. The Christian is not called to bear witness to Christ with noise, outward display, or spiritual sensationalism. He is called to bear witness to the life of the Church with peace, humility, steadfastness of heart, and the fragrance of the grace of the Holy Spirit, without the manner of a salesman. Just as God acts silently and salvifically, so too the man of God is called to become a bearer of this peace: an existence refreshed and refreshing by the still, gentle breeze of the grace of God; a presence that does not impose itself, but gives rest; that does not shout, but bears witness; that does not dramatize the Mystery, but lives it experientially as a way of life.

+Metropolitan Nektarios of Hong Kong and South East Asia