Ascent
Homily:
Lord, we pray for the preacher, for you know his sins are great.
Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
“No-one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven.”
St Paul was a mystic.
In saying so, I understand that mysticism covers a lot of ground. In simplest terms and most common denominator, the mystic is one who has a personal experience of union with God, becoming aware of the divine all around us and within us.
Entire empires of religion have been built upon mystical experience. Mysticism is the root of faith, and this goes even for those who think themselves irreligious. When one becomes enraptured by the Beautiful, Good, and the True, that person is a mystic, no matter what they be: cleric, poet, playwright; lawgiver, scientist, artisan. Christ is clearly a mystic, running off into the wilderness alone for weeks at a time, returning to proclaim that “the Father and I are one,” telling us His Spirit dwells within us.
For some it is a simple matter of solitude, silence, and prayer. Other mystics experience God in the tree stand or the fishing boat. Ecstatic awareness can come out of nowhere, like a bolt from the blue; or as an old friend of mine would put it, a “God-bomb.” But for those of an intellectual bent, rigorous and complicated systems of mystical study exist in every major faith tradition. Just think of Tibetan Buddhism, or St Teresa’s Interior Castle. They bend the mind in order to open us up to the Spirit.
Such a mystic was St Paul, and this should come as no surprise. When Paul had visions of the Risen Christ—whether on the road to Damascus, within the Jerusalem Temple, or in prison—he became the most well-educated convert amongst the Christians of that time. He was fluent in Greek, a Roman citizen, a zealous Pharisee, and apparently a Herodian, insofar as he had connections to the palace and powers that be, both Jewish and Gentile.
And while he doesn’t quite come out and say it, nevertheless it seems pretty clear, both from his own writings and others of the period, that Paul had been initiated into the Merkabah school of Jewish mysticism. Merkabah means chariot, and the name is drawn from the first chapter of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, who experienced an ecstatic and highly symbolic vision of the throne of God, ringed with wheels, descending from heaven in order to go with His people into Exile.
Similar visions of God are recorded in the books of Isaiah, Daniel, Enoch, Philo, those found both at Qumran and Masada, not to mention St Paul and the Revelation of John the Divine. Such revelations follow a pattern. First, the visionary ascends into heaven. This ascent, however, is almost always a descent, with heaven coming down. Regardless, he is taken into the presence of the Almighty. He meets various angels, and experiences higher tiers of reality, levels of heaven, each with increasing glory, each increasingly divine.
It is a dangerous ascent, even for the ready, even for the worthy. Celestial spirits guard the way, and some secrets learned in heaven no mortal may repeat. Yet if the mystic manages to make it all the way, in one piece and semi-sane, he may then be transformed into something like an angel, with quasi-angelic abilities. For obvious reasons, then, Merkabah mysticism remained secretive, dangerous, and esoteric. It was said that if one revealed its secrets, “he should not ever have come into the world.”
One story of the time tells of Rabbi Akiva leading three students in such a mystical ascent. Alas, they were not ready. Once in heaven, one dies, one is driven mad, and the final student apostatizes because of what he’s seen. For up there in the heavens, he witnessed a mortal man seated for a time upon the throne of God, in union with God, and this led him to teach that there were two powers in the heavens, anathema to the rabbinic theology of the Talmuds. Only Akiva returned unscathed.
Stories also abound about the Galilean “men of deeds,” those who studied the Word of God with such devotion that they took on miraculous powers. One, whenever he looked up from the Torah, inadvertently destroyed whatever he looked upon, the ultimate evil eye. Thankfully his son also studied Torah until his eyes could heal whatever his father’s harmed. Something similar happened in Superman IV. Mystical miracleworkers in the Galilee at the time of Rome: now that ought to sound familiar.
St Paul tells of his own Merkabah ascent in an epistle to the Corinthians. He speaks elliptically: “I know a person in Christ … caught up to the Third Heaven”—third because heaven here appears in the threefold structure of the Temple. There he heard things that no mortal may repeat, and “a messenger of Satan,” literally an adversarial angel, gave him “a thorn in the flesh.” This is classic Merkabah, even to the point of being wounded by angels as one goes higher up and deeper in.
Assuming that this is the same Temple vision related in the Acts of the Apostles, as appears may be the case, then the response elicited from the crowd reacting to this vision is: “Away with such a fellow from this earth! For it is not fit that he should live.” That sounds an awful lot like the denunciation of those who reveal Merkabah secrets. In other words, there are mystics in the crowd of the same school as Paul, and when he starts speaking of such things, they aren’t happy that he’s spilling the beans.
Now, this may be all well and good, but what has it to do with today? What has it to do with us? We aren’t some first-century Jewish school of mysticism, are we? Ah, but maybe we are. For you see, St Paul understands Jesus’ Ascension into heaven to be the ascent to end all ascents! He isn’t simply a miracle-working rabbi, a Galilean man of deeds. He is God made Man, God come down, in the flesh, humbling Himself, emptying Himself, walking the path of sinners, though the Christ can know no sin.
Thus when He ascends into heaven, He remains. He takes the throne. He is God returning to God, the Son of God returning home. And in so doing, He opens the way for all Christians, all believers, all of humankind. Satan cannot stop Him; Jesus harrows hell. Angels cannot wound Him; Jesus hallows heaven. And now that His humanity sits upon the throne—at the right hand of the Father, that every knee should bow and every tongue confess—salvation has been opened to us all.
The ancient rites of the Temple allowed one man, the High Priest, on one day of the year, the Day of Atonement, to pass beyond the veil of this world into the presence of God; to become, for a time, like unto the angels; to become, as it were, a son of God. This is mysticism, union with the divine, ascent into heaven, just as we hear in Merkabah. But now Jesus Christ is our Temple, and our King, and our God, and our High Priest. Everything that we do here recreates the Temple—or, in truth, fulfills it. All the Church’s liturgy is mystic.
When we turn to Holy Communion, heaven descends to the earth. Here, in this place, at this altar, eternity breaks into time. We cover ourselves with our wings, as do the angels around God’s throne, calling out, “Holy, holy, holy!” We are joined to the eternal Passover, to the timeless bloodless sacrifice of Christ the Lamb of God. And we say the same words that John heard when he had his vision of heaven. And we are given—mirabile dictu—we are fed here our union with God.
This is what the Sacraments are, the Holy Mysteries of our faith. In Baptism, we are given both the Name and the Spirit of Christ. In Holy Communion, we are given both His Body and Blood, as He promised. And the Name of Christ, the Breath of Christ, the Body and the Blood of Christ, make us into Him, binding us all into one as both His Body and His Bride. What could be more mystical than that? Drawn into heaven come down, drowned in our sins, raised in His grace, made one with one another as we’re one with God in Christ.
This, my brothers and sisters, is the Resurrection. Welcome to the mysteries the mystics saw of old. Welcome to the risen life of Jesus Christ our God.
In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Credit where credit is due: This homily draws heavily from the work of Dr Justin Sledge on Esoterica.
Pertinent Links
RDG Stout
Blog: https://rdgstout.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RDGStout/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsqiJiPAwfNS-nVhYeXkfOA
X: https://twitter.com/RDGStout
St Peter’s Lutheran
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100064841583987
Website: https://www.stpetersnymills.org/
Donation: https://secure.myvanco.com/L-Z9EG/home
Nidaros Lutheran
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100074108479275
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@nidaroschurch6026
Entire empires of religion have been built upon mystical experience. Mysticism is the root of faith, and this goes even for those who think themselves irreligious. When one becomes enraptured by the Beautiful, Good, and the True, that person is a mystic, no matter what they be: cleric, poet, playwright; lawgiver, scientist, artisan. Christ is clearly a mystic, running off into the wilderness alone for weeks at a time, returning to proclaim that “the Father and I are one,” telling us His Spirit dwells within us.
For some it is a simple matter of solitude, silence, and prayer. Other mystics experience God in the tree stand or the fishing boat. Ecstatic awareness can come out of nowhere, like a bolt from the blue; or as an old friend of mine would put it, a “God-bomb.” But for those of an intellectual bent, rigorous and complicated systems of mystical study exist in every major faith tradition. Just think of Tibetan Buddhism, or St Teresa’s Interior Castle. They bend the mind in order to open us up to the Spirit.
Such a mystic was St Paul, and this should come as no surprise. When Paul had visions of the Risen Christ—whether on the road to Damascus, within the Jerusalem Temple, or in prison—he became the most well-educated convert amongst the Christians of that time. He was fluent in Greek, a Roman citizen, a zealous Pharisee, and apparently a Herodian, insofar as he had connections to the palace and powers that be, both Jewish and Gentile.
And while he doesn’t quite come out and say it, nevertheless it seems pretty clear, both from his own writings and others of the period, that Paul had been initiated into the Merkabah school of Jewish mysticism. Merkabah means chariot, and the name is drawn from the first chapter of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, who experienced an ecstatic and highly symbolic vision of the throne of God, ringed with wheels, descending from heaven in order to go with His people into Exile.
Similar visions of God are recorded in the books of Isaiah, Daniel, Enoch, Philo, those found both at Qumran and Masada, not to mention St Paul and the Revelation of John the Divine. Such revelations follow a pattern. First, the visionary ascends into heaven. This ascent, however, is almost always a descent, with heaven coming down. Regardless, he is taken into the presence of the Almighty. He meets various angels, and experiences higher tiers of reality, levels of heaven, each with increasing glory, each increasingly divine.
It is a dangerous ascent, even for the ready, even for the worthy. Celestial spirits guard the way, and some secrets learned in heaven no mortal may repeat. Yet if the mystic manages to make it all the way, in one piece and semi-sane, he may then be transformed into something like an angel, with quasi-angelic abilities. For obvious reasons, then, Merkabah mysticism remained secretive, dangerous, and esoteric. It was said that if one revealed its secrets, “he should not ever have come into the world.”
One story of the time tells of Rabbi Akiva leading three students in such a mystical ascent. Alas, they were not ready. Once in heaven, one dies, one is driven mad, and the final student apostatizes because of what he’s seen. For up there in the heavens, he witnessed a mortal man seated for a time upon the throne of God, in union with God, and this led him to teach that there were two powers in the heavens, anathema to the rabbinic theology of the Talmuds. Only Akiva returned unscathed.
Stories also abound about the Galilean “men of deeds,” those who studied the Word of God with such devotion that they took on miraculous powers. One, whenever he looked up from the Torah, inadvertently destroyed whatever he looked upon, the ultimate evil eye. Thankfully his son also studied Torah until his eyes could heal whatever his father’s harmed. Something similar happened in Superman IV. Mystical miracleworkers in the Galilee at the time of Rome: now that ought to sound familiar.
St Paul tells of his own Merkabah ascent in an epistle to the Corinthians. He speaks elliptically: “I know a person in Christ … caught up to the Third Heaven”—third because heaven here appears in the threefold structure of the Temple. There he heard things that no mortal may repeat, and “a messenger of Satan,” literally an adversarial angel, gave him “a thorn in the flesh.” This is classic Merkabah, even to the point of being wounded by angels as one goes higher up and deeper in.
Assuming that this is the same Temple vision related in the Acts of the Apostles, as appears may be the case, then the response elicited from the crowd reacting to this vision is: “Away with such a fellow from this earth! For it is not fit that he should live.” That sounds an awful lot like the denunciation of those who reveal Merkabah secrets. In other words, there are mystics in the crowd of the same school as Paul, and when he starts speaking of such things, they aren’t happy that he’s spilling the beans.
Now, this may be all well and good, but what has it to do with today? What has it to do with us? We aren’t some first-century Jewish school of mysticism, are we? Ah, but maybe we are. For you see, St Paul understands Jesus’ Ascension into heaven to be the ascent to end all ascents! He isn’t simply a miracle-working rabbi, a Galilean man of deeds. He is God made Man, God come down, in the flesh, humbling Himself, emptying Himself, walking the path of sinners, though the Christ can know no sin.
Thus when He ascends into heaven, He remains. He takes the throne. He is God returning to God, the Son of God returning home. And in so doing, He opens the way for all Christians, all believers, all of humankind. Satan cannot stop Him; Jesus harrows hell. Angels cannot wound Him; Jesus hallows heaven. And now that His humanity sits upon the throne—at the right hand of the Father, that every knee should bow and every tongue confess—salvation has been opened to us all.
The ancient rites of the Temple allowed one man, the High Priest, on one day of the year, the Day of Atonement, to pass beyond the veil of this world into the presence of God; to become, for a time, like unto the angels; to become, as it were, a son of God. This is mysticism, union with the divine, ascent into heaven, just as we hear in Merkabah. But now Jesus Christ is our Temple, and our King, and our God, and our High Priest. Everything that we do here recreates the Temple—or, in truth, fulfills it. All the Church’s liturgy is mystic.
When we turn to Holy Communion, heaven descends to the earth. Here, in this place, at this altar, eternity breaks into time. We cover ourselves with our wings, as do the angels around God’s throne, calling out, “Holy, holy, holy!” We are joined to the eternal Passover, to the timeless bloodless sacrifice of Christ the Lamb of God. And we say the same words that John heard when he had his vision of heaven. And we are given—mirabile dictu—we are fed here our union with God.
This is what the Sacraments are, the Holy Mysteries of our faith. In Baptism, we are given both the Name and the Spirit of Christ. In Holy Communion, we are given both His Body and Blood, as He promised. And the Name of Christ, the Breath of Christ, the Body and the Blood of Christ, make us into Him, binding us all into one as both His Body and His Bride. What could be more mystical than that? Drawn into heaven come down, drowned in our sins, raised in His grace, made one with one another as we’re one with God in Christ.
This, my brothers and sisters, is the Resurrection. Welcome to the mysteries the mystics saw of old. Welcome to the risen life of Jesus Christ our God.
In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Credit where credit is due: This homily draws heavily from the work of Dr Justin Sledge on Esoterica.
Pertinent Links
RDG Stout
Blog: https://rdgstout.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RDGStout/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsqiJiPAwfNS-nVhYeXkfOA
X: https://twitter.com/RDGStout
St Peter’s Lutheran
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100064841583987
Website: https://www.stpetersnymills.org/
Donation: https://secure.myvanco.com/L-Z9EG/home
Nidaros Lutheran
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100074108479275
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@nidaroschurch6026
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