Looking Up Towards Heaven, a sermon based on Acts 1: 1-11, preached on Ascension Sunday, May 17, 2026

This second Scripture lesson from the books of Acts ends with the disciples of Jesus “gazing up towards heaven.” Gazing was not what Jesus had asked them to do, but that’s what they were doing because Jesus had just issued an impossible task, and then He didn’t stick around to help them do it. Instead, He ascended into Heaven. “You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth,” He said, and then His body was lifted up into the sky and a cloud took Him from their sight. Two men wandered towards them moments or hours later to find them still, “gazing up towards heaven.” If Jesus gave them the assignment, why hadn’t they gotten started? Why were they there, just staring off? My wife, Sara, often wonders the same thing. Sometimes, she finds me just staring off into space, especially after she’s asked me to do something that I’m not excited to get started doing. She’ll ask me to vacuum the house or to change the sheets on the bed. Because these are things I don’t want to do, after enlisting me in home cleaning, she’ll sometimes find me moments later not springing into action but staring off into space. Why? I don’t know. Maybe it’s easier to stare off than it is to get started. Now, if that’s the case with me and common household chores, how much “gazing up towards heaven,” would I have to do before getting started on preaching the Gospel to the ends of the earth? Jesus did two incredible things in our second Scripture lesson. First, He gave to His disciples an assignment that surely seemed impossible; then, He miraculously ascended into Heaven, leaving the bewildered disciples gazing up towards Heaven, unsure of where to even start in accomplishing their mission. This moment in the Bible reminds me of the day my mom dropped me off at college. Now, you know this, many of you from experience, that the major life transitions of graduations and watching kids go off into the workforce, armed forces, or higher education are emotional times for those parents who are fortunate enough to be there and to see it happen. Last week, our church hosted three tear-soaked graduations. On Wednesday night, the 5th graders in our afterschool program, Club 3:30, graduated and gave speeches, and their parents cried. Then, on Thursday morning, was the preschool graduation where the parents cried, and on Friday, was our kindergarten graduation, and their parents cried as well, so did their teachers. One of their teachers was crying before the ceremony even started. At all three events, I was honored to give the opening prayer and to see the tears in the eyes of all those parents at this milestone in their child’s lives. At the preschool graduation on Thursday, one mother walked down the aisle to her seat carrying a box of Kleenex, and before the welcome and introductions were even over, she had gone through half the box. I imagine that the flood of tears grows deeper with each step of the journey. From preschool to kindergarten and then from 5th grade to high school, I imagine that with each graduation, the parents cry a little harder, so when my mother dropped me off at college, this is what happened. When we reached my freshman dorm at Presbyterian College, kind upperclassmen helped unload our car and move my stuff into my first dorm room, where we met my roommate. My mom talked with his parents, explaining to them that my dad had to stay home with my little sister and brother. Then, we strolled to lunch in the dining hall and attended some orientation meetings about how to register for classes and make tuition payments. I’m not actually sure what those meetings were about because I wasn’t paying very much attention. My mom was there, why would I need to listen? Then we made it to the BBQ dinner under the live oaks by the administration building, and my mom, without finishing her plate said to me, “I’m about to start crying, so I’m just going to go. I love you so much,” then she hugged me and left. What did I do next? I watched as she walk to her car. As she drove off, I stared at the place where her minivan had been, wondering what to do. She had to push me to apply to college, she bought me my dorm room linens, she sat through the financial aid meetings while I dozed off, she was there doing almost everything while I did next to nothing. It was only as she left that I realized, now it’s up to me. Back to our second Scripture lesson: Now it’s up to the disciples. Jesus gave them their assignment: “Be my witnesses. Take the message to the ends of the earth,” then He left them to it. Had He stayed, they would have sat back waiting for Him to do it for them. Parents, you know that’s the truth. If you know anything about the book of Acts, then you know that it is our account of what the disciples did, how they built the Church of Jesus Christ, how they were His witnesses throughout the Roman Empire and beyond, but what must happen at the very beginning of the book in the first 11 verses? Jesus must leave so that the disciples will act, and, therefore, our second Scripture lesson describes one of those crucial transitions in life. The task is assigned, but the disciple must be left to complete the assignment. The child leaves the nest, but the mother bird must leave him so that he learns to fly. There is a calling on every person’s life, but some are still starting off into space, afraid to get started. We are all called by God to do incredible things, we are all equipped by the Holy Spirit to do the impossible, but so long as Jesus will do it for us, so long as Mama will do it for me, so long as the adults are in the room, the children never have to grow up. That’s why the Boy Scouts of America used to tell the dads to stay out of the way. Years ago, I was a chaperone with my brother’s Boy Scout troop. If you look on the wall of Eagle Scouts from our own Troop 252, you’ll see my brother’s name on a plaque. His Eagle Scout project was making picnic tables out by the railroad tracks. A more recent Eagle Scout project just replaced the ones he built years ago. I never made it that far in Scouts, but I was so proud when my brother did, and I was excited when, at the age of 22, I was asked by my father to go with my brother to the border of Minnesota and Canada to canoe with him and his troop for this high adventure trip through the wilderness. My dad had just had heart surgery, so he couldn’t go. The trip was paid for, and I was invited to fill his slot. It was a wonderful experience for me to see just what my little brother could do, but one father was always jumping in to help his son do everything. You see, he didn’t want his son to make a mistake. He wanted to help, and he helped so much and so often that his son never had the opportunity to discover just what he could do on his own. On the last full day of that trip, our group was hiking next to a rushing stream with waterfalls. By this time, we were close to civilization, so youth groups and families were all along this stream, some of them playing in the water, treating the waterfalls like waterslides. I remember the scream of one leader who saw a member of her group get caught in the hydraulic at the base of the waterfall. The cycle of that water trapped a girl in its current, so the leader screamed for help. Our group’s guide jumped into action. He tied a rope around his waist, handed me the other end, and repelled into the rapids. Now, I want you to know something, no one knows how strong he is until he’s holding a rope with a human being tied to the other end repelling into the fierce current of a waterfall. I remember the feeling of the rope cutting into my arm. I remember pushing with every muscle in my legs to help our group leader get back to safety. I learned in that moment that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but not everyone gets to learn that lesson because not everyone ever has the chance or takes the chance. Mr. Rogers is famous for saying, “When bad things happen, look for the helpers,” but at some point, we are called to be the helpers. At some point, it is up to us to answer the call. When I attended the Club 3:30 graduation, I heard the speeches of those 5th graders who will move to middle school and out of our afterschool program. One of the 5th grade graduates asked the other 5th graders to join her at the front of the room at the end of her speech. Then, she asked the principal of her elementary school to come forward, and then her parents, and together, they presented Mary Groves, Director of the program, during her last Club 3:30 graduation, with two dozen roses because for the past 30 years, Mary Groves has been the helper, stepping forward to make a difference. She answered the call. She has been the one to change generations of children’s lives, and she’s led our church in taking part in that same movement, but we must take that risk of trying. We must be willing to try and to fail. We can’t be so afraid of the doing that we just stare off into space. Another who stepped forward last week was Lisa Stokes. At our kindergarten graduation, she led the effort to decorate for the reception. I couldn’t believe what she’d done. Every member of our kindergarten graduating class this year is a boy. They’re all boys. Not a girl in the class, and so at some point during the year, the moms of those boys started talking about how this kindergarten class was their sons’ first fraternity. Playing on that theme, Lisa Stokes decorated the graduation reception with Greek letters, a paddle on every table, and a fraternity composite with each member of the class. Under the picture of one their teachers was the title “Fraternity Sweetheart.” You see, Lisa stepped forward. She made a difference, which requires taking a risk, but it’s a risk that I hope and pray every member of the high school graduating class will take. I don’t want to hear about how they sat in their dorm rooms playing video games. I don’t want to hear about how they never made a mistake and never took a risk. I don’t want to hear about how they stayed the same, for the world will not get better if we stay the same. We must learn and grow and step out in faith, trusting the power of the Holy Spirit, Who is always at work in our lives. I received an email last week from a Methodist. I was honored to receive this email from a man who’s not a member of our church, but who knows about our church. That’s why he was writing. This is what he said: “These days, it seems like every vital/spiritual-related activity around this town meets or emanates from First Presbyterian Church.” Who said that? A methodist. Why did he say it? Because you’re stepping out in faith, and God is at work in you. Don’t get caught looking up towards heaven. Step out in faith with the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.