Sermon: Ascension Day | Lifted Up, Sent Out, and Empowered

Preacher:

Bob Cooper

Date:

Thursday 29th May 2025

Venue:

Guildford Cathedral

Service:

Ascension Day Eucharist

I love Ascension Day; a vital yet often underappreciated celebration in the Christian calendar. Forty days after Easter Day, we remember and rejoice in the Ascension of Jesus Christ into heaven—that profound and triumphant event marking the completion of His earthly ministry and the beginning of His reign at the right hand of the Father.

Luke 24 is a tender yet powerful account of Jesus’ final earthly moments with His disciples. Here, He opens their minds to understand the Scriptures, blesses them, and then is “carried up into heaven.” The disciples, far from being sorrowful, return to Jerusalem with great joy, continually worshiping in the temple.

Why joy at a farewell? Because they had seen the glory. They knew something deeply transformative had happened.

I would like to suggest tonight that the Ascension can be seen under the lens of three movements: Lifted Up, Sent Out, and Empowered.

Firstly Lifted Up

Luke 24:50–51 reads:
"Then He led them out as far as Bethany, and lifting up His hands He blessed them. While He was blessing them, He withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven."

The Ascension is not just a spiritual metaphor. It is a physical, historical event. Jesus did not simply vanish—He was lifted up. This bodily ascension underscores the completeness of the Resurrection: Christ is not only alive but glorified.

In verse 44, Jesus reminds His disciples,
"These are My words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about Me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled."

The Ascension is part of that fulfillment. It's the culmination of God’s redemptive work, foretold in Scripture. The cross was not the end—it was the path to the crown. Jesus returns to the Father not in defeat, but in glory.

Now imagine the place: the Mount of Olives, just east of Jerusalem, a hill Jesus knew well—where He wept over Jerusalem, taught the crowds, and prayed in Gethsemane. Today, at its summit stands the Chapel of the Ascension, a small octagonal structure enclosed within an Islamic courtyard, yet profoundly sacred to Christians.

Inside the chapel, there's no altar, no pulpit, no pews—just a patch of rock bearing what is traditionally said to be the footprint of Christ, pressed into the stone as He rose. Whether symbolic or literal, this place evokes awe. It is a reminder that our faith is grounded in the real geography of God’s work, the very soil that bore witness to divine glory.

To be "lifted up" was not only a movement upward but a movement into kingship, into heavenly intercession. Hebrews 7:25 tells us:
"He always lives to make intercession for them."
Jesus did not retire at the Ascension; He ascended to reign.

The second lens, Sent Out

Jesus, before His departure, commissions His disciples:
"That repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in His name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things." (Luke 24:47–48)

The Ascension is not a finale; it’s a launch point. Jesus hands the mission to His followers. The good news of redemption is to go out—Jerusalem first, then Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth

The disciples are not left paralyzed by awe. They are moved to action. Verse 52 says they returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and verse 53, that they were "continually in the temple blessing God." Worship leads to mission. The mountain becomes a sending place.

This rhythm of worship and mission is echoed in our own lives. Every Sunday gathering, every moment in prayer, must ultimately point us outward—to be Christ's witnesses in our workplaces, homes, and communities.

And how poignant that this commissioning happened at the Mount of Olives. From there, the city of Jerusalem is spread before you. You can see the Temple Mount, the Golden Gate, the ancient streets where Jesus walked. What a view for the moment of mission!

From that elevated place, the disciples could literally see the world they were called to reach.

And today, we stand metaphorically on that same mount. The gospel has reached us because the disciples obeyed. And now, we too are sent out.

The third lens, Empowered

Before His ascension, Jesus makes a final promise:
"And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high." (Luke 24:49)

This is the promise of the Holy Spirit, fulfilled at Pentecost. Jesus does not leave His disciples powerless. He departs so the Spirit can come—a divine presence not bound by time or space.

We sometimes think of the Ascension as Christ “leaving.” But it is really a transition—from presence in one place to presence in all places through the Holy Spirit.

The same Spirit that clothed the apostles with courage, wisdom, and power now dwells in us. We, too, are “clothed with power from on high.” The Spirit leads us into truth, gives us words when we feel speechless, strengthens us in weakness, and comforts us in sorrow.

In that chapel on the Mount of Olives, there is no roof. Open to the sky, it invites visitors to look upward—and yet, with feet still grounded on the earth. It is a beautiful image of our calling. Like Jesus, we are connected both to heaven and to earth. Our hearts are drawn upward in worship, but our hands are set to work below.

The Chapel of the Ascension, under Muslim stewardship since the 12th century, remains a site of deep Christian devotion. Pilgrims from all over the world gather here every year on Ascension Day. Services are permitted by special permission, often held in the early morning as the sun rises over Jerusalem.

It is a paradoxical place—quiet, austere, almost forgotten amid the more bustling shrines of the Holy Land. But maybe that’s fitting. The Ascension itself was not loud. There were no earthquakes, no blinding lights—just a quiet blessing, an upward movement, and a people changed forever.

And isn't that how the Holy Spirit often works? Not in spectacle, but in quiet empowerment. Not in grandiosity, but in humble sending.

So what does Ascension Day mean for us—here and now?

It means we look upward in hope, knowing Christ reigns and intercedes for us.
It means we look outward in mission, called to proclaim forgiveness and grace to the nations.
And it means we look inward for the Spirit's power, knowing we are not alone.

The Ascension teaches us that Christ is Lord, not only of the church, but of all creation.
It teaches us that the story did not end at Easter—it continues in us.
And it invites us, like those first disciples, to return to our Jerusalems with joy and to wait, pray, and go—clothed with power from on high.

May we be a people who live the Ascension—eyes lifted to heaven, feet planted in mission, hearts full of the Spirit.

 

And may it begin today

I offer these words in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen