The Paradox of the Ascension: Why Jesus Left the Apostles

I'm Michael Link, and welcome to the Depositum, where we explore the depths of Christian theology
 through AI. Please note the voices ahead are AI generated. We vet each episode,
 but ask that you listen with both faith and reason. Let's dive in.
 Imagine it. You have just spent 40 miraculous days eating, speaking, and walking with,
 well, a friend who literally conquered death. You have touched his wounds.
 It is just an incredible reality to try and process.
 Right, and you absolutely believe the ultimate earthly victory has finally arrived.
 The long-awaited triumph, the vindication of all your suffering,
 it all seems to be culminating right before your eyes.
 Today on The Deep Dive, we are exploring the ascension of Jesus.
 Yes, and we are utilizing the Douay Rheim's texts of Acts and John,
 alongside the dogmatic teachings of the Council of Trent, to really unpack this.
 But we are starting with a profound emotional whiplash of this exact moment,
 because instead of a visible coronation on earth, the apostles are about to lose him all over again.
 Which is just a staggering blow.
 It really is. And I have to admit, I have always struggled with this.
 Why leave right at the finish line?
 Right, it seems entirely counterintuitive.
 I mean, it feels like reading a mystery novel,
 and the author just rips out the final chapter right as the detective solves the case.
 Why depart, just when things are getting good and the victory is visible?
 Well, that is exactly the tension they are facing. It is an incredible paradox.
 They are standing on the mount, anticipating an earthly visible kingdom,
 and instead they are handed a sudden physical departure.
 Let's look right at the text to witness this exact climax.
 In Acts chapter 1 verse 9, it simply says this.
 And when he had said these things, while they looked on,
 he was raised up and a cloud received him out of their sight.
 We really have to pause here, just to acknowledge the immense emotional weight of that sight.
 Absolutely.
 One moment he is standing directly among them,
 and the next a cloud takes him entirely away.
 I mean, how could the apostles possibly process this?
 Was it just to prove he could do it?
 To understand the mechanics of what is actually happening here,
 we have to look at how the council of Trent defines this dogma.
 Trent makes a vital distinction.
 Okay, what kind of distinction?
 Well, he wasn't carried up into heaven like the prophets in the Old Testament,
 who were taken by external forces.
 He ascended by his own power.
 Oh, wow.
 Yeah, he went up to sit at the right hand of God,
 which is a claim to permanent and supreme royal glory.
 But there is a crucial underlying spiritual reason for this departure, too.
 Trent explains that he left to spiritualize our affections.
 Okay, spiritualize our affections.
 That sounds profound, but how exactly does physical absence achieve that?
 Think of his physical presence almost like training wheels for their faith.
 Training wheels, okay.
 Yeah. As long as Jesus was physically there in the flesh,
 the apostles were continually tempted to cling to him as a strictly earthly king.
 They were attached to the human comfort of his proximity.
 So they were missing the ultimate point.
 Exactly.
 His physical absence was the required mechanism to force them to elevate their love.
 It shifts their attachment from a mere earthly reliance
 to a profound, purely divine love.
 So if I am understanding this, to achieve that divine love,
 his physical departure wasn't just some dramatic exit.
 Not at all.
 It was the absolute prerequisite for what comes next.
 It was the required catalyst.
 Let's look at the proof of this necessity in the Gospel of John,
 chapter 16, verses seven through eight.
 But I tell you the truth.
 It is expedient to you that I go.
 For if I go not, the Paraclete will not come to you.
 But if I go, I will send him to you.
 And when he has come, he will convince the world of sin
 and of justice and of judgment.
 So he is introducing the Paraclete,
 which translates to an advocate or a helper, you know, the Holy Spirit.
 But there is a critical theological nuance we need to clarify here.
 Were the apostles just left completely empty-handed and powerless
 until this Paraclete arrived?
 That is a vital distinction to make, and the answer is no.
 After the resurrection, Jesus had already breathed
 a private measure of the Spirit on them to forgive sins.
 Okay, so they weren't entirely without the Spirit.
 No, they weren't empty-handed.
 But he had to ascend to send the Holy Spirit
 in a public manifest and abundant outpouring.
 Oh, I see.
 Yes, they had a private measure,
 but they were waiting for the absolute fullness of power.
 And this brings the reality of this historical event
 directly to you, listening right now.
 Yeah.
 The ascension isn't just a departure.
 Right, it is a completion.
 It officially completes Christ's earthly mission
 and formally opens the gates of heaven for you.
 Which leaves us on the absolute edge of our seats
 in the biblical narrative.
 The apostles are no longer looking up at the empty clouds.
 No, they are waiting.
 They are now huddled together in Jerusalem,
 bracing themselves, waiting for this spectacular public descent
 of the Spirit of truth.
 Think back to that emotional whiplash we started with,
 that raw feeling of losing the physical comfort of victory
 just when it seemed to arrive.
 It changes everything.
 It really does.
 If his physical absence was the required catalyst
 to send the Spirit's fullness to the apostles,
 how does his physical absence today
 compel you to rely entirely
 on that same invisible spirit of truth in your own life?