Ascension
May 17, 2026
In the English city of York, the Anglican cathedral reaches toward the heavens. For a thousand years, the spires of York Minster church have soared above the city. Pilgrims and tourists visit to admire the high arches and the flying buttresses. The sanctuary walls are filled with enormous windows of stained glass, including a stunning scene of the Last Judgment. It’s a remarkable building, the largest cathedral in Britain..
And I’ve been told that if you sit in the nave and look straight up, there is a small sculpture built into the highest point of the ceiling. It is circular, portraying the heads of the apostles along with Mary. And in the center of it all, you see the bottoms of two feet. Those are Jesus’ feet, dangling from the sky. From down below, all anybody can see of Jesus ascending are the bottoms of his feet. When people recognize the reference, the scene stirs up a chuckle. Jesus was lifted from the earth. We live our lives under his feet.
We do not talk much about this biblical event, even though it rates two lines in the historic creeds of the church. As the Apostles Creed proclaims, "He ascended into heaven and is seated on the right hand of God." The second half of the phrase is the only part of the creed in the present tense. And it sounds unusual to present-tense people.
We want to take the Ascension seriously, but Jesus rising into the sky is a most unusual event. It seems unreal to the modern mind, left over from the days when people believed the universe was stacked in three stories: heaven above us, earth around us, hell below. Galileo and his children dared to challenge that vision of the universe. The first astronauts confirmed what many suspected, that spatially speaking, heaven is not up there. So, it is hard to picture Jesus physically floating into the sky.
That explains why most New Testament writers do not draw the picture for us. Only Luke dares to describe the scene and does so twice. The Gospel of Luke stretches out the Easter story for an additional forty days, ending with Jesus being lifted into glory. Then Luke begins his second volume, the book of Acts, with the same scene. The ascension is the conclusion of the story of Jesus and the beginning of the story of the church. According to Luke, the single, pivotal event upon which the ages turn is the ascension of Jesus Christ.
Even so, it is a most curious event. It does not translate into anything the world down here can easily understand. So, the question remains: what does it mean to live beneath his feet?
Well, some people are impressed when they hear the story. They suspend any discrepancies with modern physics and take the story literally. It is not every day that anybody shoots into the air without a rocket pack. Luke ended his Gospel by saying the disciples continued to worship with great joy. They were enthusiastic. They were impressed.
If this story is trying to fill us with excitement, God knows we need it. Here we are, forty days after Easter. The summer slump is coming. The church goes on vacation. Ushers may cancel if their tee times are changed. As the days lag on toward June, enthusiasm begins to wane. Something needs to spark the imagination of the church. Maybe we need an impressive event like the ascension to fire us up.
When the world was languishing during the covid-19 pandemic, the magician David Blaine planned an ascension of his own. He strapped himself to a huge array of hot air balloons in Page, Arizona, and began to float into the sky. Ascending over twenty-thousand feet off the ground, he filmed the event and put it on YouTube, where it has received over twenty-six million views.[1] People were astounded as they watched the spectacle from the ground or on their computers. They applauded, too, when he landed safely.
Alas, it was merely a spectacle. Blaine gained a lot of attention for his feat. Many subscribed to his YouTube channel to follow what he might do next. Yet the stunt was pointless. It did not enliven any enthusiasm or provide any fresh energy. In fact, he himself described the event as a distraction from the constrictions of the pandemic. A distraction!
By contrast, remember how the ascension of Jesus proceeds. No sooner does Jesus go up to the heavens when two heavenly beings appear on the ground to ask, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” It is a sharp rejoinder to those who gaze into the sky. It is a shaking awake of the church that waits only for miracles while there is work to do.
Jesus had already given the disciples his commission. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,” the city where he was crucified and raised. “In all Judea,” the region where his ministry had flourished. “And Samaria,” that is, in the land of Jerusalem’s enemies, among those of questionable beliefs and backgrounds. “And to the ends of the earth,” the broad expanse of the world God had made. That commission has been a nudge for the church to get busy, to get organized, to get moving, and to serve. The faithful church of Jesus Christ cannot stand still with its nose in the air. We are sent here, there, and everywhere to declare that Jesus is risen from the dead and raised up – quite literally – as the Lord of all.
This
is the point of the biblical account. When Jesus ascends, he is not going to a
location. Rather, he is assuming a function. He rose in order to rule. Forty
days after rising from the dead, he goes up to take his royal seat at the side
of God. This is the Bible’s left-handed way of declaring his authority to a
right-handed world. The risen Christ has prominence over all things, which is
considered good news by the church. In fact, his very last words to his church
were, “You shall receive power…”
Maybe
that is what the church needs -- a good dose of power, the promise of authority.
This would offer confidence. It would give us certainty that the right man is on
our side. In a time when influence is declining, pews are emptying, and
congregations are strained for resources, there is no question who is in
charge. Jesus Christ is Lord!
The
temptation, however, is to start thinking if he is in charge, then we will be in
charge. Imagine the recurring conversations whenever there is a political
election, “We need to put the right people in power, so they can put all the
crazies in their place.” That is the voice of power, at least in the way the
world perceives power: as a force of exerting influence and control, to compel
others to get what we want.
Now that
is the voice of power, for sure. At least, that is how the world perceives
power -- as a way to push others around to get what we want. Yet if the church
comes looking for power in the ascension of Jesus, it will see power unlike any
kind of power the world has ever seen.
Remember that plaster sculpture on the ceiling of York Minster cathedral? It is set in the ceiling of a massive cathedral – yet that cathedral is shaped in the form of a cross. The One who is lifted into heaven is the Christ who gave his life for the world. As Jesus is raised up to rule over heaven and earth, he rules with sacrificial love.
As we heard in our scripture, the disciples wanted to know if it was time for the Lord to restore Israel's kingdom. They hoped he would drive the Roman Empire from their land. Even after a brutal crucifixion by that Empire, they want him to restore their standing among the world’s kingdoms. And what does he say to them? Stay in the city and pray. Don’t scatter or run away or pretend that you are in charge. No, you live and serve beneath those feet. And we wait on him, and we keep living as if he is present - yet out of sight. This is a Lord who reveals power totally unlike the power of the world.
This is a most appropriate text as we set apart some of our own people as elders and deacons. Ordination is a calling to serve Jesus by serving others. It is not an anointing to greater power, but an invitation to get on your knees – in prayer and in service. We don’t lift these people up – we keep them on the ground, tending to the needs of the church that lives under the authority of Jesus. It is his authority that counts, not ours. It is his love that we make tangible, not merely own.
And we do his work together. That is the genius of Presbyterian government. Our structure is side by side, not top down. Elders and deacons are the first among equals, called and commissioned to stand among the congregation. They are ordained to ask, “What is Jesus calling us to do?” How is he commanding us to behave? How does he call us to act? What are his values that he wishes to embody in his church?
And
if we are not certain, we take another look at him and see him giving himself
away to the world. That’s the model. The only Christ-like model. We are not
called to hoard the resources he provides, but to give them away. We are not
called to smile at ourselves in a mirror and say, “Look how wonderful we are” –
but look out the door, to work the neighborhood, and to serve all the people
that he loves --- which would include all the people.
(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.
What
we see is that Jesus Christ is Lord. Lifted out of sight, yet reigning with
sovereign and self-giving love. Nothing in heaven or earth can separate us from
that love. Now that he has been lifted up, we know his love is for all.
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