Homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension

Homily for the Solemnity of the Ascension St. Joseph’s Neier May 11-12, 2013 Rev. Kevin Schmittgens

Central Idea: The promise of Christ to send the Spirit into our lives, especially in the Eu- charist, strengthens us to live out our promises in joy.

…behold I am sending the promise of my Father upon you…

There is a new term in the entertainment world: binge watching. With the advent of streaming video and DVR and such, people are waiting until a series is complete and then, in all one gulp, watch the entire run of the show. For some shows, Sherlock, for in- stance, this is simple. For others, you may want to hold all of your calls for awhile.

If you are interested, start small. Start with one of my favorite miniseries movies of all time, a show called Lonesome Dove.

Lonesome Dove is a classic western, but it has a definite modern sensibility about it. It is certainly not for small children. It tells the story of a cattle drive from Texas to Montana, which may not seem all of that interesting, except it is. The two main characters, Gus and Woodrow, are lifelong friends who served as Texas Rangers. (The real ones, not the baseball team) They are as different as night and day. Gus is the bon vivant, the party boy, the good time. Woodrow is the stoic, steady, but aloof, strong, yet distant type. As they make their way to Montana, Gus is wounded by the natives who are not all that keen about having their land usurped. He is brought back to Nebraska, but he is a goner. He refuses to have them amputate his leg which is gangrenous. It is slowly poisoning him.

Before he dies, Gus asks of Woodrow one last favor. Being the romantic that he is, Gus wants his body to be buried in a certain place in Texas in a grove of trees near a river where he once picnic with the true love of his life. Woodrow is reluctant to accept. Gus’ former girlfriends (I told you he was a party boy) want him to be buried in Nebraska, close by. But Gus is insistent, and so Woodrow, against his better judgment, promises Gus, for he cannot refuse his friend’s dying request.

Everyone hates Woodrow for this promise. They think he is ridiculous. Break your promise, they say. It was silly to do so in the first place. But for Woodrow, a promise is a promise.

The journey is long and difficult. At one point, Woodrow is crossing a river when he car- riage on which he is riding, breaks and sends Gus’ body down a rapid stream. With mon- umental effort, he catches the body and drags it to shore. The journey is also dangerous. On the way, Woodrow confronts his archenemy, a renegade named Blue Duck. Finally after months of travel, exhausted and spent, Woodrow finds the spot and buries Gus. There, all alone, in the middle of nowhere, Woodrow hold an impromptu funeral service. As he pats the large rocks he put on the grave as a marker, he says this: Well, Gus; there you go. I guess this will teach me to be more careful about what I promise people in the future.

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about promises. A couple of my students have promised me that they would get their assignments in. (Buzz) In a sense the promises of our lives create us, form us, define us and challenge us. As someone once said: It is easy to make promises it is harder to keep them.

Today I would ask that you think about the promises you have made, are making and maybe even will be making in your lives. How have they changed you? How have they toughened you? How have they created you?

Sometimes, it is tough. Without getting too whiny or getting into all the particulars, I had an experience of a promise and the consequences of that promise. I had something planned for Monday since the beginning of the year. It was going to be fun, it was going to be a treat. A week ago, I was informed that I was needed to be available, all day that day. It was frustrating for me, but I had promised that I would be doing something, and even though it meant forgoing my own wants and desires, I was called to live out my promise.

On this day, the Ascension of Our Lord, we remember that Jesus did not just leave us to our own designs, abandon us to the whims, quirks and caprices of life, but he promised that God would be with us, and with us in a powerful, vibrant, life-giving way, in the sending of the Spirit. That Spirit frees us from sin, in the Sacraments of Baptism and Reconciliation. The Spirit inspires us in the Sacrament of Confirmation. The Spirit heals us and comforts us in the Anointing of the Sick. And we are fed and nourished in what we do here, the Eucharist.

This weekend, our second graders will be receiving their first Holy Communion. It is a great time for these little folks. But it is more that just putting on a white dress or a smart tie. It is more than just a party. It is a physical, tangible, substantial, bodily reminder of an amazing truth of our faith: that wherever we go, whatever we do, we have access to the amazing power and strength of God, that will help us live our promises in truth and in joy. It is a simple yet overwhelming reminder that God makes good on his promises, so we are called to do the same. No matter the cost. No matter the struggle. No matter the toil.

At the end of Lonesome Dove, Woodrow is walking down the barren street of the little town of Lonesome Dove where the whole story began at sunset. He has survived his or- deal, he has made good on his promise to his friend. As he goes, a newspaper reporter approaches his and asks him for an interview, which Woodrow, in typical Woodrow style, rebuffs and ignores. The reporter continues to pester him. He asks about the cattle drive. He asks about the Texas Rangers. He asks about the legend of his promise to Gus. And finally, as he is about to give up, he says:

“I hear you are a man of vision.” With that Woodrow stops cold. He thinks about all of the experiences he had, all the friends who died along the way, all the characters, good bad and otherwise that he en- countered, all of the sacrifices that were made. He thinks about his epic, punishing, gru- eling journey with Gus’ body.

And then he simply replies: a helluva vision. And that vision forged a nation, a nation of promise.

Today, we remember that we are not left alone. Today we remembering that we are bene- ficiaries of the loving promise of God, a promise that inspires, strengthens and motivates us to make good on our promises.

Today, we become people of vision, a remarkable vision.