Ascension

The Lion King tells the story of a king's ascent. From the moment the movie begins, Simba is branded as the heir to the throne. He is designated to the office at the start of the movie by the baboon Rafiki, who lifts up Simba before the animals of the kingdom as they bow before him. He is the future king.

The rest of the story describes Simba's exile and his homecoming to Pride Rock. When Simba returns to Pride Rock, he must battle for the throne, which has been seized by his uncle Scar. Simba conquers Scar and the hyenas, but even though he has been designated, appointed, and even conquered, the forces of darkness, his work remains incomplete.

At the end of the movie, immediately after the battle, an important scene occurs that is sometimes overlooked. The camera suddenly shifts to Rafiki, bringing the story full circle. Rafiki takes his staff and points Simba to Pride Rock. An old era has ended; a new one is about to begin. In order for Simba to claim his kingdom and be installed as the king, he must ascend Pride Rock, the rightful place of the ruler, to ritually demonstrate he has conquered.

Simba dramatically ascends the rock and roars. When he does, the other lions acknowledge his victory, dominion, and authority. Though Simba has been designated as the king from the start of the movie, though he has conquered in battle, he still is not installed as king until he ascends Pride Rock.

In a better way, Jesus is designated as king and Lord from the beginning of the Gospels and from all creation really. But Jesus had to be installed as king; he had to be enthroned; he had to be recognized as king; he had to ascend to the right hand of the father, sit on the throne, and receive from God the Father all dominion and authority. The Ascension is about the triumph of Jesus the king.

Henry Drummond wrote:

Ascension … what if it didn't happen? Suppose Jesus had not gone away. Suppose he were here on earth NOW. Suppose he were still in the Holy Land--Jerusalem.

Every ship that started for the East would be crowded with Christian pilgrims. Every train flying through Europe would be thronged with people going to see Jesus.

Supposing YOU are in one of those ships. The port when you arrive after the long voyage is blocked with vessels of every flag. With much difficulty you land and join one of the long trains starting for Jerusalem. As far as the eye can reach the caravans move over the desert in an endless stream. As you approach the Holy City you see a dark mass stretching for (miles and miles) between you and its glittering spires. You've come to see Jesus, but you will NEVER see him.

In an interview shortly before his death, Dallas Willard, a philosophy professor who wrote widely on spiritual formation in the church, was asked about the challenges facing the church. Dr. Willard spent much of his life addressing the problem of why the church isn't raising up more people who look and act like Jesus. At the end of that two hour interview, Willard was asked this pointed question: "When you look at how off track the church is, do you ever just throw up your hands in despair?"

Willard smiled and said, "Never."

"But how can you not?" the interviewer asked.

"Because," he said, "I know Christ is the head of his church and he knows what he's doing."

Pastor Craig Brian Larson writes:

The first summer that my wife and I were dating, she worked as a temp at a bank. In the first two weeks that she had the job, she quickly noticed some extremely unprofessional behavior among the team of four people that she worked with and their supervisor. The supervisor, who was a generation older, was very friendly with the younger staff, taking long coffee breaks with them. College-aged staff would sit on her desk to chat and gossip.

The supervisor and her team were so friendly that the group's behavior toward one other new member of the team was a stark contrast. This person, a woman in her 30s who had come on staff just a week before my wife, was shunned. If she walked up and tried to join the conversation during a coffee break, the conversation ended. The group, including the supervisor, made jokes about her behind her back and laughed at the way she dressed. They rolled their eyes and winked at each other when she was present. It was obvious that this middle management worker was perceived as an unnecessary intrusion.

Two weeks into the temp job, my wife walked into the office on Monday morning and was surprised to find a much different scenario. No gossiping, no kidding around, no long coffee breaks. All the workers had their eyes riveted on their work. The previous supervisor had been replaced. The cliquish team addressed the new supervisor with formal, businesslike respect. My wife thought she even saw fear in their eyes.

The new supervisor was not a stranger. It was the 30-something woman who had been shunned and mocked. It turned out the bank had hired her to be the new supervisor from the first day she came on the job three weeks before, but the bank had concealed her true identity so she could observe the work style of the team.

In some ways, this situation resembles the coming of Christ to earth. In his first coming, Jesus Christ revealed his true identity and glory to his true followers, but to those who did not believe, his glory was largely hidden by his humanity. Following his resurrection, Christ ascended to the right hand of God, where he rules all things. One day he is coming again to the earth to establish his glorious kingdom over everything. At that time there will be no mistaking who is in charge.

Ascension Day is the perfect church holiday because the world can't steal it. The culture around us has quite ruined Christmas and Easter. Of course, the world owned Christmas as its festival for the restoration of the sun before the early Christians used it to disguise their celebration of Christ's birth. … But the world has now stolen it for its consumeristic purposes and has seized Easter for the same idolatry. In my teen years I played clarinet in the high school band for the town Christmas parade at which Santa Claus was flown in by helicopter. Later, I heard, they flew the bunny in for Easter. But the world hasn't got the foggiest notion what to do with someone flying out.

To embrace the Ascension is to heave a sigh of relief, to give up the struggle to be God (and with it the inevitable despair at our constant failure), and to enjoy our status as creatures: image-bearing creatures, but creatures nonetheless.

—N. T. Wright, Bishop of Durham (Church of England) and writer (1948—)