Early on Easter morning, according to the Gospel of St. John, Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene, weeping alone at the empty tomb. Having pronounced her name, and in that moment been recognised, he said to her: Do not cling to me. For I have not yet ascended to the Father.
For 40 days after Easter Jesus manifested the reality of his resurrection to his disciples. By his appearances he confirmed beyond all doubt that he was truly alive, not a ghost or a fantasy, and still fully himself. He proved that he still wanted to be with his disciples, could still freely converse with them, and still loved them. But he appeared only now and again, as he chose, not as they chose; and always in such a way that a certain distance would separate him from them. Often his manner of appearance was somewhat disconcerting, and not always immediately recognisable. In this way he made it quite clear that everything was not simply as it had been before. His manner of relating to them was now somewhat different, and also his manner of being human: somehow now free from limitations of any sort. And now, the 40 days being accomplished, the appearances have come to an end, and Jesus ascends to the right hand of his Father.
Now at last, as he might have said to St. Mary Magdalene, all restraints are off. From today, his prohibition to her - noli me tangere - is forever lifted. Now there is no need whatever to hold back. Now all of us have permission, and more than permission - invitation, vocation, necessity - to cling to Jesus; to adore him without reserve; to love him without fear of impropriety; to pour out our hearts to him without any danger of excess, or exaggeration, or improper attachment. Now it’s simply not possible to love Jesus too much, because truly he is worthy of all the love we can possibly give him. Now even all the love of the highest Angelic powers, all focussed and concentrated together, must fall short of what he deserves, from them and from us all. Now at last, by the mystery of today’s great Feast, all of us can enjoy unlimited and uninterrupted access to Jesus. We can live with him in perfect intimacy every minute of every day, for the rest of our life, for from his place in heaven he is always with us, and in us, and for us.
At the Last Supper Jesus said to his disciples: I came from the Father and have come into the world. And now I am leaving the world to go to the Father (Jn 16:28). According to his divinity, Jesus never left his Father’s side; he never for an instant stepped outside the perfect communion of life and love he enjoyed with his Father and the Holy Spirit. But according to his humanity, between that descent and ascent, something happened, something changed irrevocably. By his Paschal mystery, Jesus took our human nature, redeemed it, saved it, sanctified it, then carried it with him far above and beyond that earthly paradise lost by our first parents. Now human nature, in its head, is carried up to divine glory, enthroned above all the Angels, definitively united with God, forever beyond the reach of sin or of death or of the devil or of any of his works.
If St. Mary Magdalene had not yet understood all that on Easter Morning, she would have wanted Jesus back, just as he had been before. But no: something far better was awaiting her now. Far from pushing her away, then, Jesus was calling her to a closer union, a more wonderful embrace, a more transforming joy. His humanity was now changed, and so also in principle was hers. Once she had been baptised into his death, and begun to live with his risen life, St. Mary Magdalene, and with her each one of us, would be newly defined as a person whose life was Christ, and whose destiny was heaven.
I suppose this is the idea that most radically separates us from secular modernity. For us, this life on earth is a preparation, a training ground, an ante-chamber, a waiting room. Whether we enjoy its blessings or suffer its woes, we understand our place within it as always straining forward, expectant, in principle filled with longing, desire, eager anticipation of what we hope for. This hope is not an illusion, or an empty dream, or idle superstition, because Christ our Lord has gone ahead of us, and he is worthy of our trust.
The alternative Collect for the Ascension which we had today offers us a refinement of this idea. We find the thought strongly emphasised especially by St. Paul. That is, in this prayer we ask that even now, while still on earth, we may already dwell in heaven. We seem to see here walls come tumbling down, and vistas opening up. Yes, Heaven lies ahead, but we are not separated from it even now, because we are not separated from Jesus. This is reality, and an object of faith, but it’s also an imperative. Our duty is then to be constantly aware of it, and to live accordingly. Let your thoughts, says St. Paul, be on the things above, not on the things that are on the earth. For you have died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:2).
In these days of global lock down, there is everywhere an enhanced awareness of human fragility and mortality. All the more, then, is it our business, our joy, to dwell on the mystery we celebrate today. Today gives us the opportunity deliberately to strengthen our faith and our hope; to sharpen our desire for what is to come. This applies not less, but more, for people who are in hospital, or people who are dying; people who are mourning the dead; people who are anxious, frustrated, stressed; people who are fearful of losing their livelihoods, or looking ahead to a bleak and uncertain future. It applies not less, but more, also to Christian people who are locked out of their Churches, and are currently denied access to Mass and the Sacraments. Not that such afflictions are in any way to be under-estimated. But they are all relativised. We pray very earnestly for better days to come as soon as may possibly be. But in the meantime, we know that nothing can keep Jesus out. In him all fears, all troubles, all frustrations must ultimately be swallowed up, for he has won the victory, and in him, even now, we have life and joy.
Allow me to end now with just a little glance at our Lady, in whom also today’s mystery is fulfilled. These days of May, and also these days of coronavirus, we are singing to her with special fervour. With her now we await the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. To her we turn in all our need: asking her to be with us, to help us, to intercede for us. Through and with and in Mary Immaculate, may none of us fail through our own fault to miss our heavenly destiny. Through and with and in Mary, may we all spend our eternity giving praise and thanks in endless joy to her divine Son, who is our Saviour, and our Lord, and our God.