The Ascension of Jesus - DArren Rowse
Have you ever watched a movie and realized that the ending you just saw was actually set up perfectly in the very first scene? That moment when everything clicks into place—when you realize the whole story was pointing to this destination all along? There's something deeply satisfying about a story that knows where it's going, even when we don't see it at first.
Today, we're looking at a moment in Jesus' life that functions as both an ending and a beginning. It's a hinge point in the story of God's kingdom—simultaneously wrapping up one chapter and launching another. And yet, for all its significance, it's one of the most overlooked events in Jesus' life and in the Christian calendar. We're talking about the ascension of Jesus.
Darren Rowse opened our new series in the book of Acts by taking us back to this pivotal moment, examining it through two passages: Luke 24:50-53 and Acts 1:1-11. Luke thought this event was so important that he wrote about it twice—ending his Gospel with it and beginning Acts with it. You can watch Darren’s message above or listen to it below.
A Story Told Twice
In Luke's Gospel, the ascension flows beautifully out of the resurrection appearances. Jesus had appeared to his frightened disciples in that locked room, spoken peace to them, explained the Scriptures, and commissioned them as witnesses. Then he led them out of the city to a hillside near Bethany. There, while blessing them, he was taken up into heaven. The disciples worshipped him and returned to Jerusalem "with great joy," staying continually at the temple praising God.
It's an ending that functions almost like a benediction—a beautiful doxology of worship and praise.
But when Luke tells the story again at the start of Acts, he fills in more details. He reminds us that Jesus had spent 40 days teaching the disciples about the kingdom of God, giving "many convincing proofs" of his resurrection. On one occasion, while eating with them, Jesus commanded them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait for the gift the Father had promised—the Holy Spirit.
The disciples, still not quite grasping Jesus' vision, asked: "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?" Jesus redirected their attention from timing to mission: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." Then, before their very eyes, he was taken up, and a cloud hid him from their sight.
As the disciples stood there, staring intently into the sky, two men in white suddenly appeared beside them: "Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven."
A King Enthroned
Darren reminded us of Tim Keller's powerful description of the ascension as "the detonator for everything else Jesus Christ did. The thing that takes what he was and did on earth and releases it into the universe and into your lives with all its healing power."
We tend to read the ascension as Jesus leaving—as a sad goodbye. But that's not how Luke tells this story at all. Notice how the disciples walked back to Jerusalem: "with great joy." This wasn't a melancholy ending. This was a joyful beginning.
The ascension is a joyful arrival. Jesus had been heading to this place the whole time.
The Jewish people had been holding onto Psalm 110 for centuries as a promise of the Messiah who would come: "The Lord said to my Lord: 'Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.'" They expected a Messiah who would be seated at the right hand of God, ruling over all things. The ascension is that moment.
"The ascension doesn't mean absence. It means sovereignty exercised through the Spirit." — N.T. Wright
The cross wasn't a detour or a tragedy that somehow got redeemed by the resurrection. The cross was the path to this destination. The resurrection was part of that path. And the ascension is where the path leads—to a throne.
This was Jesus' coronation moment. He hadn't left the room; he'd taken the throne. And the Spirit is how that reign reaches us.
This was also a radical and dangerous claim in the first century. Rome ruled the world, and Rome had a king—Caesar. He wasn't just a political leader; he was worshipped. Coins bore his face and declared him "son of God" and "high priest." Inscriptions throughout the empire proclaimed, "Caesar is Lord." The Roman Empire had its own gospel, its own good news: the peace of Rome, the rule of Caesar.
Into this world, Christians began declaring something incredibly dangerous: "Jesus is Lord." The ascension made that declaration possible. Because of this moment, Jesus was now the great high priest seated beside God. Caesar was not Lord. Jesus was.
This claim got Christians into all kinds of trouble. In Acts 17, we'll see them brought before city rulers, accused of "defying Caesar's decrees, saying that there is another king, one called Jesus."
A Kingdom Advancing
Of course, the disciples didn't quite grasp what Jesus' kingdom would look like. All through Jesus' ministry, they struggled to understand. Even after 40 days of post-resurrection teaching about the kingdom, they still asked: "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?"
It wasn't a foolish question. It was exactly what a well-taught, Scripture-knowing, first-century Jewish person should ask—especially after watching their rabbi rise from the dead. Surely now the kingdom would come. Jewish prophets had repeatedly promised that God would restore Israel, send his Spirit, establish his king on a throne, and deal with Israel's enemies. Rome was occupying the land God had promised his people. So surely the next agenda item was dealing with Rome.
The disciples weren't wrong to ask how the kingdom would come. But they had the shape of their expectation slightly wrong. They wanted liberation for Israel. Jesus had a much bigger plan.
Darren pointed out that Jesus didn't dismiss their question. He reframed it. First, he took timing off the table: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority." In other words: Some things are just not for you to know. You're not responsible for making the kingdom come. You're not responsible for the timing. You're not the sovereign one.
And in some ways, that's liberating.
But then Jesus gave them something to do, reframing how the kingdom would come: "You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Jesus was thinking bigger. They were thinking about Rome being defeated. He was thinking about his kingdom coming to the ends of the earth. And it wasn't going to come through a Jewish king on a Jewish throne driving out a Roman army. It was going to come through a crucified, risen, and enthroned king—present through his Spirit, bearing witness through his people, to every corner of the earth.
"The kingdom of this crucified and risen king spreads not through force, but through testimony."
This was the way Jesus kept choosing: not accommodation to power, not violent resistance, but a community of people living and speaking in the name of a different kind of king. The idea that the kingdom comes through witness rather than power, politics, or force was radical 2,000 years ago—and it still speaks powerfully to where we are today. The church has always been tempted to spread the kingdom through force, control, and violence. Jesus says: Not that way. The kingdom comes through witness.
A People Kindled
After Jesus gave this incredible mission to his disciples, he ascended. Can you imagine that moment? The disciples watching as Jesus rose into the clouds, their jaws on the floor? It's no wonder they're described as "looking intently into the sky"—that feels like an understatement.
Then we get this almost gently comical moment where two men in white have to grab their attention back from the sky: "Why are you looking at the sky?" What they were really saying was: You've seen what you need to see. You know what you need to know. Now go. Now do it.
And Luke tells us they walked back into Jerusalem "with great joy." It was a Sabbath day's walk—about 900 meters. Ten minutes. The city hadn't changed. The streets were the same. The Roman soldiers were still at their posts. Everything looked exactly as it had that morning.
But they weren't the same.
They'd walked out of Jerusalem with the risen Jesus beside them. They walked back in knowing he was ascended, enthroned, and that they carried a mission. Darren observed that the disciples had seen resurrection before—they'd watched Jesus raise Lazarus and Jairus' daughter. But this was categorically different. This wasn't just someone called back from death. This was Jesus going forward to his throne, to the right hand of the Father.
The resurrection said he had conquered death. The ascension said he now ruled everything.
Something had shifted inside them. They walked back with joy. They stayed at the temple continually praising God. This was a very different group from the frightened people we saw last week, hidden away and locked in a room. Now they had a spring in their step. Energy. Purpose. Expectation.
This is the detonation Tim Keller described—the moment when everything Jesus was and did was propelled into the universe. And what gets ignited, what gets kindled, is the disciples themselves. It's us.
Jesus spent three years making disciples—120 people after all that time. Then this detonation happened. A few days later at Pentecost, 3,000 people were added. Then 5,000. Then more daily. Not despite the fact that Jesus ascended, but because of it.
We often celebrate Pentecost as the birth of the church—and there's truth in that. But several theologians, including Douglas Farrow and N.T. Wright, argue that the ascension establishes the church's identity and mission, while Pentecost provides its power. Jesus said in John 16:7, "Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you." The ascension makes Pentecost possible.
The commission—"you will be my witnesses"—is given here on this hillside before the Spirit arrives. Pentecost is the fuel, but this is where the engine was built.
And Acts shows us how the church lived out its mission. They witnessed through preaching, yes—we'll explore that in a few weeks. But their witness wasn't just spoken. Luke paints a beautiful picture of the early church's day-to-day life: they ate together, worshipped together, prayed together, listened to the apostles' teaching, shared what they had, were known for generosity, love, care for the marginalized, crossing social boundaries. Luke tells us "they enjoyed the favour of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily."
Their life together was a form of witness. The shape of how they lived pointed to the king they were following.
"Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world." — Teresa of Avila
We are the body of Christ. The way we live is a witness to him—and it's also his work in the world. People notice when we respond to difficult situations with grace, when we're generous in ways that don't quite make sense, when we forgive the undeserving, when we're kind to those usually overlooked.
This kind of life raises questions. And that's where spoken witness comes in—not as a cold pitch, but as an invitation flowing out of someone noticing a life lived differently.
One Way to Live It Out This Week
In a few moments, you'll walk out of this building back into your Jerusalem—into your week, your relationships, your commute, your inbox, the conversations you've been putting off. The world will look exactly the same as when you left it. But you're not the same. You've been reminded that Jesus is enthroned, ruling, present through his Spirit. This week, choose one area of your life—a relationship, a responsibility, a routine—and ask: How can I live as a witness to Jesus here? Maybe it's responding with patience instead of frustration. Maybe it's showing generosity. Maybe it's having a conversation you've been avoiding. Trust that the Spirit who kindled the first disciples is with you too.
A Prayer
Lord Jesus, thank you for this story, for this reminder that you are not absent—you are enthroned. You are Lord, you are King. We acknowledge that and declare it afresh this morning. We thank you for the path you took to get to that enthronement, through the cross, through the empty tomb. We find ourselves living in a world that at times feels so unchanged by this reality. We live in the tension between the knowledge of your enthronement and a world that puts forward other things to worship. Help us to live in this tension. Help us to resist the patterns of our world that are not aligned with your kingdom purposes and to live out the commission you've given us to be your witnesses. As we walk back into the world, would your Spirit kindle something within us? We so desperately need you to fill us and lead us. Fill us with the same joy your disciples walked into Jerusalem with, and empower us to live lives that point to you as our King. Help us to live lives that witness to you, that spark curiosity and questions in those we meet. And help us, when the opportunities come, to speak words of witness too. Holy Spirit, come. Pour out your Spirit on us this morning, we pray. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Personal Reflection
When you think about Jesus being "enthroned" rather than "absent," how does that shift your understanding of his current role in your life and in the world?
The disciples asked about timing ("when will the kingdom be restored?"), but Jesus redirected them to mission. What questions about timing or outcomes might be distracting you from the mission Jesus has given you right now?
Darren described the disciples walking back into Jerusalem with "great joy" even though the city looked exactly the same. What would it look like for you to carry that same joy into the unchanged circumstances you're facing this week?
Small Group Discussion
Read Luke 24:50-53 and Acts 1:1-11 together. What details stand out to you in each telling? Why do you think Luke chose to tell this story twice?
The early Christians proclaimed "Jesus is Lord" in a context where "Caesar is Lord" was the official imperial slogan. What are some of the rival "lords" in our culture today—the things our society tells us to organize our lives around?
Jesus reframes the disciples' question about restoring the kingdom to Israel by expanding their vision to "the ends of the earth." How does this challenge our tendency to make Jesus' kingdom about our own national, cultural, or personal interests?
Darren said the ascension gives the church its mission while Pentecost gives the church its power. How does understanding the sequence of these events help us think about the church's identity and purpose?
The early church witnessed both through what they said (proclamation) and how they lived (community life, generosity, boundary-crossing love). Which of these two forms of witness comes more naturally to you? Which feels more challenging?
Teresa of Avila said, "Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours." What does this image evoke in you? How does it shape your understanding of your calling as a Christian?
Think about the 900-meter walk the disciples took back into Jerusalem—back into the same unchanged city, but with a completely changed sense of identity and mission. Where is God calling you to walk this week with that same confidence and joy?
How can we pray for one another as we seek to live as witnesses to the enthroned Jesus in our everyday lives?