Upside down and inside out
The Ascension of Christ
Is what it’s all about.]1]

There is an old story told about a village tucked beneath the mountains of Italy. In the center of the village square stood an ancient fountain. For generations, the villagers drew water there every morning. Children played there. Lovers met there. Old men rested beside it at dusk. But over time, the fountain stopped flowing. The people tried everything. They cleaned the basin. They polished the stone. They replaced the spouts. Still, no water came.

Fortunately, an old mason from a nearby town arrived. He walked around the fountain quietly and then said something strange: “The problem is not here above ground. The blockage is underneath.” So the villagers began digging. And the deeper they dug, the worse things appeared. The square became a mess of mud and broken stone. Water pipes were exposed. The beautiful plaza looked ruined. People complained: “You’re destroying the village!” But the old mason kept saying, “No. We are getting closer.”
Finally, deep beneath the earth, they discovered the problem: the spring itself had become choked with debris and roots over many years. Once it was cleared, the water burst upward again with more force than anyone remembered. And suddenly the villagers understood this. The fountain did not rise again until someone first went down into the depths.

That is the mystery of the Ascension. We often imagine Ascension as Jesus simply “going up.” But in Luke 24, Christ ascends only after betrayal, suffering, crucifixion, descent into death, and resurrection. Only then do we witness the majesty of His Ascension, the fountain of divine life flowing freely once again into the world.[2]

There are many beautiful depictions of the Ascension in Christian art. One of my favorites is by Salvador Dalí. We know many of his works through the The Dalí Museum, but his painting of the Ascension belongs to the Pérez Simón Collection in Mexico and travels internationally from time to time. Dalí painted the Ascension in a way only Dalí could. He turned everything upside down and inside out. Most artists paint the Ascension from below, watching Christ rise into the heavens. But Dalí paints it from underneath the feet of Jesus. The viewer sees the soles of Christ’s feet, the bottom of His heels, and only a glimpse of His face lifted upward into glory. Above Him is the opening of heaven itself, the Holy Spirit reaching outward, surrounded by angels and the company of heaven. It is an astonishing perspective. Likewise, Saint John of the Cross painted the Crucifixion from above, looking down upon Christ from heaven’s vantage point. Both images remind us that God often changes our perspective completely. He turns things upside down and inside out.

The disciples expected Jesus to rise up in worldly power. Instead, He rose in humility. And many people think the Ascension means Jesus disappeared somewhere far away, leaving us behind. But that is not what Scripture teaches. The Gospel tells us that Christ ascended “to fill all things.” Yes, He fills the cosmos. Yes, He reigns over all creation. But today I want to bring that truth closer to home. Christ came to fill you. You are the vessel. You are meant to become the fountain of life.

Something holy is supposed to flow out of your soul. Grace. Mercy. Joy. Hope. Compassion. Forgiveness. The living water of Christ Himself. But sometimes the water slows. Sometimes life clogs the spring beneath us. Wounds. Fear. Sin. Grief. Pride. Exhaustion. Disappointment. The roots begin to choke the soul, and eventually we wonder where the life has gone. You know those moments. We all do. And the truth is this: the fountain will not rise again until someone is willing to go deep.

That is why even in the liturgy there is symbolism we often overlook. Before the Eucharist, the priest washes his hands with water and quietly prays: “I wash my hands in innocence, O Lord, that I may go in procession round your altar, singing aloud a song of thanksgiving and recounting all your wonderful deeds.” Why? Because the fountain must remain clear. Because worship is not merely ritual. It is the opening of the soul so that Christ may flow freely through us again.

Jesus is not trapped beneath the earth. He is not distant in some unreachable heaven. Through His Ascension He fills all things, and He longs to fill His people with divine life. The fountain of Christ rises through His Church. So I urge you, dearly beloved: allow Him to go deep into your life. Allow Him to clear away whatever has choked the spring within you. Let His living water flow freely again. For when the fountain rises, children gather again. Lovers meet again. The elderly tell their stories again. Life returns again. And perhaps that is the mystery of the Ascension after all.

Christ did not ascend in worldly triumph, but in holy humility. And if we allow Him, He may very well transform our lives the same way, turning us upside down and inside out.

[1] The Rev. Jon Roberts
[2] Luke 24:44-53
[3] Psalm 26:6