The pull of heaven


Ascension of the Lord
17 May 2026

The pull of heaven

There’s an old story about a little boy flying a kite on a cloudy day. The kite had gone so high you couldn’t even see it anymore. A man walking by stopped and asked, “How do you know the kite is still up there?” And the little boy said, “Because I can still feel the pull.”

That’s actually a pretty good description of the Ascension.

Because today is not really about Jesus disappearing. It’s about the fact that He still pulls on the world. He still draws hearts upward. He still moves history. He still calls people to follow Him.

And yet, if we’re honest, the Ascension can feel strange.

Christmas makes sense to us. Jesus comes down. Good Friday makes sense. Jesus dies. Easter makes sense. Jesus rises. But then today comes along and Jesus leaves again. And it can almost sound like the end of the story.

But in the New Testament, the Ascension is never treated as an ending.

It is treated as an enthronement. A coronation. A victory.

Saint Paul says in Ephesians that the Father seated Christ “at his right hand in the heavens, far above every principality, authority, power, and dominion.”

That’s royal language.

Because in the ancient world, the right hand of the king was the place of authority. So the Ascension is not Jesus floating away into outer space. It is Jesus taking His place as Lord of heaven and earth.

And that changes the meaning of everything.

Because if Jesus is Lord, then Caesar is not. Power is not. Fear is not. Death is not. Sin is not.

Christ reigns.

And that’s exactly what the disciples are struggling to understand in the first reading.

Acts begins almost humorously. The apostles ask Jesus, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

In other words:

“Okay… now are we finally going to win?”

They are still imagining a political kingdom. A visible triumph. Something immediate.

And Jesus basically says:

You still don’t understand what kind of kingdom this is.

Because His kingdom is not built by armies. It spreads through witnesses.

“You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses…”

That line is the hinge of the entire Book of Acts. Actually, it’s the hinge of the whole age of the Church. Because from this moment onward, the mission of Jesus continues through His people.

And this is where the Ascension becomes deeply personal for us.

Because we tend to think of the Christian life mostly in terms of “going to heaven someday.” And of course heaven matters.

But notice something remarkable:

When Jesus ascends, the angels do not say, “Good. Now spend your time trying to escape the earth.”

They say:

“Why are you standing there looking at the sky?”

That’s funny.

The apostles are standing there staring upward, mouths a gap, trying to process what just happened. And the angels are basically saying:

What are you doing?

Go. Move. The mission has begun.

And this is one of the great themes that runs through all of Scripture. God calls a people not merely to admire Him… but to participate in His work.

That’s the whole story of the Bible.

He doesn’t need us to help Him. He wants us to.

Abraham is called and sent. Moses is called and sent. Israel is called and sent. The prophets are called and sent. And now the Church is called and sent.

“The Church exists to evangelize.”

Which means Christianity is not fundamentally passive. It is missionary by nature.

And I think this is one of the hardest things for modern Christians to recover.

Because we live in an age of spectators. We watch everything. Sports. Politics. Religion. Even Church can become something we watch instead of something we enter into, especially with these nice, comfortable, cushioned pews.

But Jesus did not ascend so the Church could become an audience. He ascended so the Church could become His Body in the world.

That’s why the Gospel today ends with mission:

“Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations.”

Not “maintain yourselves.” Not “try to survive.” Not “wait quietly until the end.”

GO!

And notice something else.

The apostles are sent before they are fully ready. Actually, throughout the Gospel, they rarely seem ready. Even here in Matthew, right before the Great Commission, we are told:

“They worshiped, but they doubted.”

I love that line.

Because it’s so honest.

The Church begins not with spiritual superheroes… but with worshiping doubters. People who love Jesus but are still trying to understand. People who are faithful but still afraid. People who still have questions.

And Jesus sends them anyway.

That should encourage us.

Because sometimes we think:

When I finally get holy enough… then God can use me.

If I only knew as much as (fill in the blank)... then I could share the Gospel.

When I finally figure everything out… then I can witness to others.

When I finally stop struggling… then maybe I can serve.

But the pattern of the Gospel is different.

Jesus continually works through weak and unfinished people. Not because weakness is good… but because His power is.

And that’s why He tells them to wait for the Holy Spirit.

Because Christianity is impossible without divine life.

You cannot live the Gospel merely by effort. You cannot sustain Christian joy merely by personality. You cannot transform the world through human enthusiasm alone.

The Church is not powered by optimism.

The Church lives by the Holy Spirit.

And that’s what the Ascension prepares us for.

The Ascension is not Christ abandoning the Church. It is Christ preparing the Church to receive His own life through the Spirit.

In a strange way, Jesus ascends not to become less present… but more present.

No longer confined to one place. No longer visible only in Galilee or Jerusalem. Now His presence will fill the whole world through the Spirit, through the sacraments, through the Church.

That’s why the Ascension matters right now, here, in Mary Esther, in the Panhandle, in 2026.

Because Christ reigns now.

Not someday.

Now.

And His mission continues now.

Through ordinary people. Through families. Through saints no one will ever canonize. Through people trying to raise children faithfully. Through people caring for aging parents. Through widows and widowers learning how to carry grief while still remaining faithful. Through people quietly carrying crosses no one else sees. Through Christians who forgive. Who pray. Who remain faithful. Who keep showing up. Who witness not only with words… but with the shape of their lives.

And the world desperately needs that witness right now.

Because we live in a culture that is exhausted. A culture drowning in distraction and anger and rivalry and arguments and loneliness. A culture constantly looking downward.

And the Ascension reminds us to look upward again.

Not in escape. But in hope.

Because heaven is not far away.

Heaven has already begun in Christ.

Humanity already sits at the right hand of the Father in Jesus.

And where the Head has gone, the Body is meant to follow.

That is the promise of the Ascension.

Christ has gone before us. Christ reigns. Christ intercedes. Christ draws the world upward still.

Like that kite you cannot see anymore… you still feel the pull.