Fulfilled, Blessed, Sent and Promised

 Anchor Verses: Acts 1: 1-11 & Luke 24:44-53

Reading the Bible Together

When I was reading the two scriptures this week in preparation for this message this week, two thoughts came to mind, “what do we do when a teacher leaves?” and the idea that Christ remains present in all times and all places.

The book of Acts opens by linking itself to Luke’s Gospel, placing the reader back into the same story with Jesus at the center. Luke presents Jesus as the crucified, risen, and ascended Redeemer whose life recasts Israel’s history—from the births and prophecies surrounding Mary, Joseph, Zechariah, and Elizabeth to John the Baptist and Jesus himself—tracing that story back through Israel to Adam and to God.

Acts continues that narrative in a new key: a small community of believers, still under imperial rule, is empowered by the Holy Spirit to become Christ’s witnesses “in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Like Luke, Acts is full of surprising, disruptive events—rebirths, prophecies, opposition, and joy—that transform individuals and communities and reveal God’s life-giving purposes.

Because Jesus is risen, life has the final word: “After [Jesus’] suffering he presented himself alive to them” (Acts 1:3). Yet Acts also teaches patience: sometimes our task is to wait for the Spirit (Acts 1:4–5). We should resist the modern impulse to predict or control God’s next move; God’s work often arrives in unexpected ways, just as Habakkuk warned, “I am doing a work you would not believe” (Acts 13:41; Habakkuk 1:5).

One wonders about the tone in Jesus’ voice as he conveyed yet another blessing on those he called and now will leave behind. It is Ascension Sunday this week, when Jesus said his goodbyes and was taken up to his place alongside the Father in heaven. We’re reading Luke’s version—or his first version, because he retells the story in part two, the Acts of the Apostles. But this is the ending of the Gospel bearing Luke’s name.

I spent some time in the south when I was younger. There, I found that blessings are prayers of support as well. Even “goodbye” is shorthand for “God be with you.” We invoke that presence when we wish one another well, when we part from those we know and love. And when that parting is going to be for a long time, the words almost choke in our throats, not because we are reluctant to confer the blessing, but because we know that our words are inadequate to convey such power and presence and hope. And for a moment, we wish we had a better way of blessing those we love.

Faith that Meets Us

All teachers must leave at some point, the student must graduate and take the knowledge gained and share this with others. In Jesus, he leaves us in bodily form and his earthly ministry is over for the early apostles. But as I noted, Christ remains present in all times and all places. We must embrace this Christ presence in all of us and in all creation.

Three things come out of the apostles encounter this morning that strengthen their mission and the mission of the church going forwards:

Continuity and fulfillment – Scripture and resurrection belong together because the risen Jesus does not cancel Israel’s story—he fulfills it. When Jesus opens the Scriptures to the disciples, he shows that his life, death, and rising are the climax of a long, faithful narrative: law and prophets, psalms and promise converge in him. This means our theology is not an abstract system but a faithful reading of God’s acts; doctrine grows out of encounter with the living Christ. Practically, that calls us to read the Bible as a story that meets us in history: to let the texts shape our memory, our hope, and the way we tell the world who God is.

Presence and absence – The contradiction of the ascension is that Jesus’ bodily departure inaugurates a new kind of presence. He leaves the room and yet does not abandon the world; his leaving makes room for the Spirit to come. The disciples learn that God’s nearness is not limited to a single body or place but is poured out in power, wisdom, and comfort. For us this is both consolation and challenge: we grieve the absence of what we could touch, and we trust the Spirit’s presence that empowers what we cannot yet see. Worship, prayer, and communal life become the places where that Spirit-presence is recognized and practiced.

Witness and waiting – The apostles are sent as witnesses, but they are first told to wait. Waiting is not passive; it is a disciplined posture of dependence and preparation. In the pause between promise and power the church prays, learns, and is formed into a people who can testify with courage and clarity. Our witness is shaped by that waiting: it is patient, it is expectant, and it is rooted in the promise of the Spirit rather than in our own cleverness or urgency. So we practice both: we wait in prayer and we go in testimony, trusting that the power to witness will come not from our strategy but from the Spirit’s arrival.

Together these three truths—fulfillment, contradictory presence, and patient witness—give the church its identity and mission. They remind us that our work is to remember rightly, to live in the Spirit’s presence even when Christ is not visibly with us, and to testify faithfully while we wait for God’s timing.

Why Are you Standing Around?

Waiting as noted is not passive. Too often, we want to “give it to Jesus” or for Jesus to “take the wheel” or “wait for God’s time.” The angel challenges us by asking us why are we standing around? There are practices we can engage in now that helps us prepare.

As individuals, we must ask ourselves, “how are we are we being “opened” to Scripture today?” Here, we must investigate our practices of study and and prayer. As you all know, I once considered the monastic life and have largely adhered to prayer and work since those days. You don’t need a special calling to try contemplative practices; anyone can begin. I often offer these approaches which are very accessible as a point of entry:

1. Read the contemplatives. Learn from Christian writers (Thomas Merton, John of the Cross) and wisdom from other traditions (Thich Nhat Hanh, Rumi). Let diverse voices stretch and challenge your faith.
2. Find quiet places. Carve out predictable pockets of silence—a run, a commute, a park walk—where you can breathe, reflect, and let creativity surface.
3. Practice centering prayer. Sit in silence, gently returning your attention to God’s presence. This Christian form of contemplative prayer trains you to let go and be present.
4. Try lectio divina. Read slowly, “chew” the text, and read again. Let Scripture reveal new layers over time rather than rushing for immediate meaning.
5. Trust the journey. Move toward God with childlike trust. Waiting and openness are part of spiritual growth; the path is often slow, surprising, and ultimately life-giving.

These are all simple practices to begin with. As a centering place, I often will ask those I am teaching to repeat the mantra “Be here now” three times to center yourself; read a short Scripture passage slowly and sit with one phrase; set a regular five‑minute silence each day. Presence, patience, and practice matter more than perfection. As we do this individually, we come to worship on Sunday to share with other’s what we have experience and how our souls have been blessed during the week. We learn to share with others on Sunday what it means to wait, to listen.

When we come together on Sunday as the corporate body of Christ, we obviously are listening to the message, singing the songs and enjoying fellowship, but we are also waiting. In waiting, we must consider what it means to “wait” for the Spirit in our ministries—prayerful preparation, not frantic activity. We live in a post church world, the influence of the church, the size of our churches and the importance of our pastors all have lost some sort of meaning over the last few years. Waiting feels like waiting to die rather than wait for the prayerful response of the Spirit. The early Apostles too felt frantic and many other mixed emotions, but they pressed on with their mission, despite their size – we must do the same.

This week, as we walk away from this message, with these words still on our minds, I challenge you to read thoughtfully on how Scripture offers readings of God’s fulfillment and providence. Friends, take away these thoughts, the resurrection reveals; ascension commissions; Spirit empowers. May we go forth this week with our eyes open, our spirits blessed and our capacity for patience full. Let us leave this place with minds opened by Scripture, hearts attentive to the Spirit, and mouths ready to tell the good news. Amen.