Ascension
Separation from loved ones is painful, and the Ascension reminds us that even Jesus' followers knew that grief. Yet Christ has not abandoned us—his Spirit remains like sunlight after the sun has set, warming, guiding, and sustaining us. Through the Holy Spirit, we become Christ’s living presence in the world, continuing his mission with our hands, our voices, and our lives.
Listen to homily here:
As you came into the church today, you may have noticed our new 2025 Photo Directories available at the entrance. And while this is, yes, a bit of an advertisement to pick up your copy, it's much more than that. Flipping through the directory, you’ll see a beautiful snapshot of our parish family. You’ll notice that here at St. Peter’s, we come from all over the world—many different cultures, countries, and experiences. This diversity brings such richness and blessing to our community.
Many in our parish are newcomers—people who have left their homeland, their way of life, and loved ones behind to begin anew. With that comes not only the excitement of a fresh start but also the pain of separation: being far from people who were central to your life.
This sense of separation is something we also encounter in today’s liturgy, as we celebrate the Feast of the Ascension. At first, the Ascension might seem like a strange thing to celebrate. But it deeply connects to our experience, especially for those who know the ache of being far from loved ones. We can imagine how the followers of Jesus must have felt. They had walked with him, followed him, placed all their hope in him. They witnessed his suffering and death—the shattering of their dreams—and then, against all expectation, the joy of his resurrection and the wonder of those days with the risen Lord. And now, once again, Jesus is leaving.
The Gospel tells us Jesus ascends into heaven. He is no longer physically with his disciples. That must have been incredibly painful. Like us, they wanted to reach out, to sit with him, to hear his voice, to feel his presence. His departure left them in uncertainty about what was to come.
And yet—Jesus does not leave them alone. As he prepares to ascend, he promises that they will be “clothed with power from on high.” He speaks of the coming of the Holy Spirit, who will dwell within his followers. In ascending, Christ does not abandon his Church—he makes way for a new kind of presence.
We will celebrate Pentecost next week, but already today, we begin to consider: What is the Holy Spirit like? How does the Spirit act in our lives?
One image that might help is the sun. The sun is visible and powerful—something we can see and feel. In this way, it's like Christ during his earthly life. But even when the sun is hidden behind clouds or below the horizon, its light remains. We still see, we still feel its warmth. Light is hard to grasp, yet we know it’s real. In the same way, the Holy Spirit is like that light—radiant, mysterious, life-giving. The Spirit helps us see, gives us warmth, brings us peace and joy.
Here at St. Peter’s, I often think of this when I see the sunlight streaming through our stained-glass windows—especially in the late afternoon. The church is bathed in beautiful colours, transformed by light. The Holy Spirit does the same in our lives: quietly, beautifully illuminating, transforming, and comforting us.
Christ remains truly present with us in the Spirit. We encounter him especially in the sacraments—most profoundly in the Eucharist. We hear his voice in Scripture. And we see him in one another, gathered as the Body of Christ. Through the Spirit, we are not abandoned—we are equipped, empowered, and sent.
But why did Jesus need to leave? Why the Ascension?
Perhaps one reason is this: if Christ had remained physically with us, we might have always depended on him to act. Instead, in love, he entrusts us with his mission. The Church is now his hands and feet in the world.
An example that illustrates this comes from the lives of St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. Francis Xavier. Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits, longed to be a missionary himself, to travel to distant lands. But he remained in Rome to organize and lead the new community. It was his friend and follower, Francis Xavier, who carried the mission forward—traveling to India, Japan, and beyond to proclaim the Gospel. Ignatius formed the vision; Xavier fulfilled it.
So too with Christ and his Church. The Acts of the Apostles, which we read from today, tells the story of how Jesus’ followers, filled with the Holy Spirit, continued his mission.
Yes, we live in a world where Christ may seem distant. But we live in the light of his promise—the gift of the Holy Spirit. Through that Spirit, we are transformed and empowered to become his presence in the world.
I’d like to end with a prayer often attributed to St. Teresa of Ávila, one that expresses this mystery beautifully:
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours.
Yours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world.
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good.
Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
May we, filled with the Spirit, truly become the Body of Christ in the world.
