The Ascension of Jesus

Peter wiped tears from his weathered face as he took the first step down the Mount of Olives, his sandals scuffing against the rocky soil. The others followed behind him in stunned silence, their eyes still fixed on the sky where moments ago their Master had vanished into the clouds. The golden light of late afternoon cast long shadows before them as they began their descent.

“Did you see the look in His eyes?” John finally broke the silence, his youthful voice trembling. “Just before… just before He was taken up. It was the same look He gave us at the Last Supper.”

Peter nodded slowly, unable to find words at first. “Like He could see straight through to our souls. Like He knew everything we would face, everything we would become.”

“And yet He smiled,” added James, John’s brother. “Even knowing all that lies ahead for us, He smiled.”

Thomas, who had been hanging back slightly, moved forward to join the conversation. His face bore the complex expression of one still wrestling with profound truths. “I still cannot fully grasp it all. These past forty days since the resurrection… and now this. My mind tells me I should doubt, but my heart… my heart knows with a certainty I’ve never felt before.”

“You’ve come far from needing to touch His wounds, Thomas,” Matthew observed with gentle understanding. “We all have.”

Andrew, who had been supporting an overwhelmed Bartholomew, spoke up. “But what do we do now? He said to wait in Jerusalem for this promise of the Father, this… Holy Spirit. But what does that mean?”

“We wait,” Peter replied firmly, though his voice carried a note of uncertainty. “We pray. We remember everything He taught us. And we prepare ourselves for whatever comes next.”

Philip, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly stopped walking. “Do you remember what He said about the Spirit? That it would give us power to be His witnesses? To the ends of the earth?” He looked around at his fellow apostles with wide eyes. “Us. Simple fishermen, tax collectors, ordinary men. How can we possibly…”

“The same way He turned water into wine,” interrupted James the Less, with unexpected conviction. “The same way He multiplied the loaves and fishes. The same way He rose from the dead. Through Him, all things are possible.”

Simon the Zealot gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “When I joined His movement, I thought we would be overthrowing Rome. Instead, He’s sending us to testify about Him to Rome and beyond. The irony doesn’t escape me.”

“But isn’t this a greater revolution?” Thaddaeus asked thoughtfully. “Not of swords and spears, but of hearts and souls? To change not just one nation, but all nations?”

The group fell silent again as they contemplated this. The weight of their commission settled upon their shoulders like a tangible thing. The path before them wound down through olive trees that rustled in the warm breeze, leading back to Jerusalem where everything had changed just weeks ago.

Matthew pulled out a small scroll from his robe and began scribbling notes. Old habits died hard, and he felt an overwhelming need to record everything while it was fresh in his mind. “We need to remember every detail,” he muttered. “Future generations will want to know exactly what happened here.”

“Future generations…” John repeated softly. “He spoke of that too, didn’t He? About those who would believe without seeing, through our testimony.”

Peter stopped walking and turned to face his brothers. The setting sun illuminated his features, and for a moment, the others could see a glimpse of the rock upon which Christ had proclaimed His church would be built. “Do you remember the first time He called each of us? How did we leave everything to follow Him?”

The others nodded, their minds drifting back to their individual calls, each one unique yet bound by the same divine thread.

“This is like that moment again,” Peter continued. “Only now, He’s calling us not just to follow, but to lead others to Him. To be fishers of men in truth, not just in promise.”

“But we failed Him before,” Bartholomew said quietly, giving voice to the fear that lurked in all their hearts. “When He needed us most, we scattered like sheep.”

“And yet He restored us,” Peter replied, touching his chest where he knew his heart still ached from that threefold restoration by the sea. “He knew we would fail, and He chose us anyway. He knew I would deny Him, and He still gave me the keys to the kingdom.”

Thomas stepped forward, his analytical mind working through the implications. “Perhaps that’s precisely why He chose us. If the message can transform us – doubters, deniers, tax collectors, zealots – then no one is beyond its reach.”

“And didn’t He say the Spirit would remind us of everything He taught us?” John added. “We won’t be doing this alone. We’ve never been alone, not really.”

The group continued their descent, their conversation flowing between memories of the past and visions of the future. As they walked, they began to recall and piece together Jesus’ teachings with new understanding, seeing how everything He had said and done had been preparing them for this moment.

“Remember how He always spoke in parables about seeds?” James observed. “Seeds that grow into great trees, seeds that fall into the ground and die to bear much fruit. Perhaps we’re like those seeds now, being scattered across the earth.”

“And the mustard seed,” added Philip. “The smallest of seeds that grows into something so large that birds can nest in its branches. Our beginning may be small, here on this mountainside, but He promised it would reach the ends of the earth.”

Matthew looked up from his writing. “He was always teaching us about the kingdom, but we were so slow to understand. We kept thinking of an earthly kingdom, with armies and palaces. But His kingdom…”

“Is not of this world,” several voices finished together.

“Yet it will transform this world,” Peter added. “Through love, not force. Through service, not dominion. Through sacrifice, not conquest.”

The sun was lowering further in the sky as they continued their journey downward. The lights of Jerusalem were beginning to twinkle in the distance, and the first evening stars were appearing above them.

Andrew spoke up again, his practical nature emerging. “We should begin making plans. He said to wait in Jerusalem, so we’ll need a place to gather. The upper room perhaps, where we shared the Last Supper?”

“Yes,” Peter agreed. “And we should stay together. All of us, and the others who believed – His mother Mary, the other women, all who witnessed the resurrection. We’ll need each other’s strength for what lies ahead.”

“And what of Judas’s place among us?” Thomas asked carefully, broaching the subject they had all been avoiding. “The Scripture must be fulfilled about another taking his office.”

A heavy silence fell over the group as they remembered their former brother, his betrayal, and his tragic end. Even in their grief and anger over his actions, they couldn’t help but feel sorrow for how he had lost his way.

“We’ll need to choose someone,” Peter finally said. “Someone who has been with us from the beginning, who witnessed everything from John’s baptism until today. There will be time to discuss this when we’re all gathered together.”

As they walked, they began to recall more and more of Jesus’ words, each memory taking on new significance in light of recent events.

“‘You will do greater works than these,’” Philip quoted, shaking his head in wonder. “How can we possibly do greater work than He did?”

John’s face lit up with sudden understanding. “Because He goes to the Father! Don’t you see? Through the Spirit, His work will continue through all of us, not just in one place at one time, but everywhere we go. Every life we touch, every heart that turns to Him – it’s all an extension of His work.”

“And it’s not just us,” James added. “He said others would believe through our word. Generation after generation, the message spreading further and further.”

Simon the Zealot smiled wryly. “To Samaria, He said. Even to Samaria. Do you remember how shocked we were when He spoke to the woman at the well? And now He’s sending us to all Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

“To the Gentiles as well,” Peter added, remembering Jesus’ words about other sheep not of this fold. “All nations, He said. All peoples.”

The magnitude of their commission began to sink in deeper. They weren’t just being sent to their own people, but to all people. The message they carried would have to cross boundaries of language, culture, and understanding.

“How will we speak to all these nations?” Bartholomew wondered aloud. “We’re hardly scholars. Most of us can barely speak proper Greek, let alone the languages of all peoples.”

“He said the Spirit would give us power,” Thomas reminded them. “Perhaps that includes the power to bridge such gaps. After all, nothing is impossible with God.”

As they continued their descent, the conversation turned to more immediate concerns. They discussed practical matters – where they would stay, how they would provide for themselves, what they would tell their families. Yet underlying all these practical considerations was a sense of anticipation, of standing on the brink of something world-changing.

“What do you think it will be like?” John asked softly. “This baptism of the Holy Spirit He promised?”

No one had an immediate answer. They had seen the Spirit descend like a dove at Jesus’ baptism, had heard Him speak of being born of water and the Spirit, but this promised baptism remained a mystery.

“Whatever it is,” Peter finally replied, “it will be exactly what we need to fulfill His commission. He wouldn’t send us out unprepared.”

The path grew steeper as they neared the bottom of the mount, and they had to watch their steps more carefully in the growing darkness. The lights of Jerusalem grew brighter as they descended, and they could hear the distant sounds of the city’s evening activities.

“It seems strange,” Matthew observed, “returning to the city where they crucified Him, where we’ll wait for this promise.”

“But it’s also where He rose,” John reminded them. “Where He appeared to us behind locked doors. Where He showed Thomas His wounds. Where He broke bread with us and opened our minds to understand the Scriptures.”

“And now it’s where His church will be born,” Peter added. “From Jerusalem to Judea, to Samaria, and to the ends of the earth – that’s what He said. It all begins here.”

As they neared the bottom of the mount, they paused for a moment, looking back up at where they had last seen their Master. The stars were fully visible now, countless points of light in the darkening sky.

“‘I am with you always,’” John quoted softly, “’even to the end of the age.’”

The words hung in the air, a promise that seemed to encompass both the immensity of their task and the certainty of its success. They were not being sent alone. Though He had ascended to heaven, He would be with them through His Spirit, guiding, empowering, and working through them to accomplish His purposes.

“We should pray,” Peter suggested, and the others nodded in agreement. They formed a circle there at the base of the Mount of Olives, joining hands as they had seen Jesus do with them so many times.

Peter began: “Father, we stand here as Your servants, chosen by Your Son to carry His message to the world. We don’t fully understand all that lies ahead, but we trust in Your promises…”

One by one, they added their own prayers – for guidance, for courage, for the promised Spirit, for wisdom to understand all that Jesus had taught them. They prayed for each other, for those who would believe through their message, and for the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As they prayed, a sense of peace settled over them, replacing their earlier confusion and uncertainty. They were still ordinary men, still aware of their limitations and weaknesses, but they were ordinary men who had witnessed extraordinary things. They had walked with Him, had seen Him die and rise again, and had watched Him ascend to heaven. Now they were being sent out as His witnesses, and He had promised them the power to fulfill that calling.

Their prayer ended, and they began the final stretch of their journey back to Jerusalem. The conversation turned to memories of their time with Jesus – the teachings they hadn’t fully understood at the time, the miracles they had witnessed, the moments of quiet fellowship, the times of confusion and revelation.

“We must remember everything,” Matthew insisted, still making notes. “Every word, every deed, every lesson. Others will need to know.”

“Yes,” Peter agreed, “but more than just remembering, we must live it. He didn’t just teach us with words, but with His life. Now we must do the same.”

As they approached the city gates, they fell into a contemplative silence. Each was lost in their own thoughts, processing the events of the day and all that had led up to it. They were no longer just disciples – learners following their teacher. They were apostles – those sent out with a message and a mission.

They passed through the gates just as the last light faded from the sky. The streets were still busy with evening activity, people going about their normal routines, unaware that they had just witnessed one of the most significant moments in human history.

“To the upper room?” Andrew asked, and Peter nodded.

“To the upper room,” he confirmed. “We’ll gather the others and wait together for the promise of the Father. And while we wait, we’ll pray, and remember, and prepare ourselves for whatever comes next.”

As they made their way through the narrow streets, they could feel the weight of their commission, but also the lightness of hope. They had been given a task that seemed impossible, but they had also been promised the power to accomplish it. They had seen their Master ascend to heaven, but they knew this was not the end of the story – it was just the beginning.

The last words Jesus had spoken to them echoed in their minds: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

They didn’t know exactly what that would look like or what challenges they would face along the way. But they knew that just as Jesus had called them from their fishing boats and tax booths to follow Him, He was now calling them to something greater. And just as they had left everything to follow Him then, they would give everything to serve Him now.

As they climbed the stairs to the upper room, where they knew others would be waiting, they carried with them not just the memory of Jesus’ ascension, but the promise of His continuing presence through the Spirit, and the certainty that they were part of something far greater than themselves – the beginning of a movement that would indeed reach to the ends of the earth.

The door of the upper room opened, and they stepped inside to join their brothers and sisters in prayer and anticipation, knowing that though one chapter had ended, another was about to begin. The wait for Pentecost had begun.