Today we celebrate the Ascension of the Lord.  An odd feast for several reasons. First, it is celebrated on Thursday in some dioceses and moved to Sunday in others—which causes some confusion. 

[Story:  Thursday evening I was working in the Church, preparing Mary with her cloak and such, and I was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.  Three ladies came to the Church and were milling around and looking at the Church.  When I came down to greet them the eldest of them asked if they could speak to a priest.  I said that I was a priest, just out of uniform since I was working.  She looked at me suspiciously, but then asked for a dispensation for missing Mass since it was a holy day of obligation.  I asked her where she was from and she said New York.  I told her that here in New Orleans the solemnity of the Ascension is moved to Sunday, so it was not the holy day.  She said, “but in New York it is the Holy Day.”  So I explained why the church moves the feast in some dioceses but not all, and that in this diocese it is on Sunday.  After my lengthy explanation, I finally paused.  She said, "So...are you going to give me a dispensation or not?"  I, exasperated, rehearsed the entire argument for why she didn't need a dispensation.  At the end she asked, "Is there another priest I can talk to?"]

I went back to work, thinking about what had just happened and how appropriate it was for the feast we are celebrating.  [and how I should have just given her a dispensation]

It was appropriate because of the second reason this feast is odd.  It celebrates how Jesus had to leave us, so that he could be with us.  Jesus ascends to heaven, specifically to overcome the problem of the ladies from New York.  The inability to be in more than one place at a given time.

Jesus didn’t ascend, and then hide behind the moon.  Or he didn’t fly past the moon, and then begin a journey out of the solar system, on his way to some remote part of the galaxy.  Even if he were travelling at the speed of light 2000 years would give him just enough time to clear the milky-way galaxy. 

He ascended and entered into the heavenly realm.  A place more real than here.  A way of existing that is more real than here, a way of existing that permeates this one, and supports it. 

That is how Jesus is present to us in word and sacrament even though he is in heaven. 

That is why we can pray and ask the saints to intercede for us, because heaven permeates and supports our physical reality.

Through his ascension Jesus is able to be in more than one place at the same time. 

This is important because The Body of Christ is now composed of us.  His believers.  His body is simultaneously present in the Church triumphant (i.e. the saints who have gone before us and are now in heaven with him).   The church expectant (i.e. the faithful who have died and are awaiting glory), and in the church militant (i.e. us, those who are still fighting the good fight.)  It is One Body, undivided, even by death.

That is what we are doing right now.  Jesus unites his body in the celebration of the Eucharist, at which the whole church is present (triumphant, expectant, and militant).  We are all united by the Body of Christ.  That is why the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist requires the real absence of Jesus through the ascension.  He had to leave us, so that he could be present to us, present in us. 

That is why at the Mass, before the Holy Holy, we say that we are adding our voices to those of the saints and angels. 

So today, when we get to the Sanctus, the Holy Holy, I want you to think about what we say, what we believe, how it is that at Mass we join our voices to those of the saints and angels as we sing the Holy Holy, the song of heaven. 

While we are singing the Sanctus, I want you to call to mind a particular saint, or a loved one who has passed away, maybe even a deceased mother or grandmother, and realize yourself to be standing beside them, united in One Body, singing to the Lord together.  “heaven and earth are full of your glory.”