As I write this, it is Palm Sunday. Christ has entered Jerusalem on a donkey. A strange king, this, who makes his triumphal procession only to be anointed with deathâ??and a strangely privileged donkey. Augustine says we should all wish to be Christâ??s donkey, carrying Christ, a weight that exalts and a burden that sets free, into every situation. A rarely sung verse of the â??All Glory, Laud and Honorâ? processional hymn for Palm Sunday echoes this point: Sis pius ascensor tu, nos quoque simus asellus . . . (â??Be thou, O Lord, the Rider, / And we the little ass: / That to Godâ??s holy city / Together we may pass.â?)
As you read this it is Ascension Thursday, or thereabouts. Christ has entered the heavenly Jerusalem, ascending by means of a divine cloud rather than a humble donkey. The disciples who watch him disappear are understandably awestruck. Two men in white robesâ??angels, who are always on hand for revelatory eventsâ??rebuke them: Why are you standing there staring stupidly at the sky?
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