Helium and the Ascension
It was my Sunday morning stream of consciousness as I waited for Mass to start. In celebrating the Ascension I always thought they should pass out helium balloons like they passed out palms on Palm Sunday. I thought of my sister at age 5, being given a helium balloon after a homecoming game in 1963. Yet, just before being handed the string, my dad let go. And she went nuts seeing the balloon float away.
This Sunday the liturgy was based on the Ascension readings, 3 days late. The apostles did not quite go as nuts. Not one of the twelve banged their heads on the driveway.
Father O’Gara started Mass by kissing the altar with a reverence, with familiarity. And suddenly I was drawn back to a funeral I had attended 10 years ago. It was my dad’s. And I had watched as my mother, my sisters and my brother kissed the body before being seated. And none of this was scripted. And then it was my turn. And I felt a sense of unity being the end of the life of Jesus on earth, the words, “A little while you will see me no more,” and the end one man’s life. There was no real plot, no place for a Holy Grail to be planted, except the sky that belonged to all of us, and the airspace that kept moving.
I thought of a haircut yesterday. Seeing about 4 different shades of color, realizing it was symbolic of how I had changed.
I looked up at the life size cross on the altar. The white robe left, as my dad would on a clothes tree in his bedroom. I thought of the description of the appearances of the Risen Jesus, changed, perhaps like my hair, not always recognizable, at least at first.
In 25 minutes later it was the Agnus Dei: to be lost in prayer and awakened at the Agnus Dei of the sacred—-the sacrifice of the Mass…..the sudden dramatic what seems to be the end. The purpose of the life of the Messiah, the meaning of all life. It was in the Resurrection. The changing appearances. Mine. Yours.
Don’t tell the new archbishop. But I was home in less than 45 minutes. As was usaully the case.
