The Ascension

The Mount of Olives

Forty days after the resurrection, Jesus ascended into heaven from the Mount of Olives. He returned to His Father to sit at His right hand. (Acts 1:3-12, Hebrews 10:12) Evangelicals don’t often mention the ascension, yet it was a watershed moment in the history of mankind.

Definition of a literal watershed: “A ridge of high land dividing two areas that are drained by different river systems.”

Definition of a figurative watershed: “A critical point that marks a division or a change of course; a turning point.” (Source: The American Heritage online dictionary)

The Mount of Olives was both.

According to Wikipedia, it’s a literal watershed. It divides the river system on its west side from the river system on its east.

It’s also a figurative watershed. A turning point. It’s where the Glory of the Lord was last seen by Ezekiel after it was removed from the temple (Ezekiel 11:22-23). It’s where Jesus ascended into heaven. It’s where He’ll stand when He returns (Zechariah 14:4).

The old and new covenants

It’s a figurative watershed in another sense, too. According to Crosswalk.com, from the top of the Mount of Olives you can look to the west and see the city of Jerusalem flourishing on Mount Zion and to the east and see the dry open desert. Quite a contrast.

A contrast elaborated in Hebrews 12:18-24. In this passage, the author is comparing Mount Zion to Mount Sinai, a comparison between the new covenant and the old.

Mount Zion represents “the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God,” while Mount Sinai is in the hot, dry, dusty desert. (It’s not literally east of the Mount of Olives, but since it’s in a desert my mind combines the symbolism of Sinai with the desert east of the Mount of Olives.)

Sinai was filled with “darkness, gloom, and storm.” The scene was so terrifying that Moses was trembling with fear. It was the site of the old covenant, a covenant of law, mediated by the man Moses, ratified by the blood of animals, and based on earthly things (“a mountain that can be touched” and promises of tangible blessings). Few were allowed on Mount Sinai.

In contrast, Zion is full of “thousands upon thousands of angels in joyful assembly.” It represents the new covenant, a covenant of grace and joy, mediated by God the Son, ratified by the blood of Jesus as the perfect sacrifice, and focused on spiritual things (“the heavenly Jerusalem” and eternal life). All are invited to Mount Zion. (My thanks to a Bible teacher at my church who presented this information in a class that I was taking when I wrote this article.)

I imagine myself standing on the top of the Mount of Olives. First facing the desert that symbolizes Mount Sinai. Filled with the fear of a perfectly righteous God and the hopelessness of never being able to fulfill all the requirements of His Law. Never being able to earn His forgiveness. Seeing God’s holiness and judgment in the darkness and storm. Feeling a great distance between us.

Then turning in the opposite direction to face Jerusalem. Seeing God’s intense love expressed in the sacrifice of His only Son for the sins of the world. Relieved that I’m completely, totally forgiven by His grace, not by anything that I have to do. Filled with the Holy Spirit and His fruit.

An analogy of the gospel. We must first face the scorched desert. The hopelessness and vastness of the sin that separates us from God. We must see this in order to recognize our own personal need for salvation and our inability to earn it for ourselves. Then when we turn around and see the New Jerusalem, we can begin to grasp the love and grace of God, the enormity of what He’s done for us in order to bring us into fellowship with Him.

At the watershed moment of salvation, we turn from the dry dusty desert of selfish worldly desires that can never satisfy us but only increase our thirst. We turn in the opposite direction (the literal meaning of the word repent) to the glory, beauty, and joy of the heavenly Jerusalem where the river of life flows and the tree of life bears continual fruit and provides leaves for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22:1-2).

The impact of the ascension

I stand on this watershed, turning from east to west, from Sinai to Zion. Then look down and up. Down to the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus was betrayed, bound, deserted, and taken away to face His trials. Up to where He ascended into heaven. A sort of vertical watershed.

At that moment, in this place, everything changed. Jesus ascended to sit at the right hand of the Father.

“Sitting signifies a permanent abiding.”

“Abiding is about being in a place where one remains close, where a relationship is sustained.”

“‘Sitting at the right hand’ indicates authority from and special privileged access to God.”

“To sit with denotes intimate fellowship.”

To sit down also means the work is finished. A couple of Bible teachers have pointed out to me in recent years that there were no chairs in the tabernacle or temple. Until Jesus’ death and resurrection and ascension, the work of restoring man’s relationship with God was never completed.

Since His ascension, Jesus permanently remains in a position of authority with special access to God and in intimate fellowship with Him. The disciples were “filled with grief” when He told them He was going away. But He assured them that it would be better for them when He did. (John 16:5-7)

Because of the context, I’ve always understood His words to mean that the change for the better would be the coming of the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. But it’s also so much better for us that He’s now abiding at God’s right hand, exercising authority and interceding for us, rather than walking the earth, even in His resurrected body.

The fullness of our salvation, of our restored relationship with God, was made possible by every watershed moment in the Gospels and the first chapter of Acts. Jesus’ birth. His death. His resurrection. Last of all, and most often ignored or forgotten by evangelicals (including me), His  ascension into heaven.