5-17-26 “In-Between Moment”
“In-Between Moment”
I want to start with something funny that I found on an internet site: A 21-year-old is hired by a hardware store. He shows up for his first day of work at 8:00 AM sharp. The boss welcomes him, then hands him a broom. “First, sweep out the store. Then I’ll show you where the window-cleaning equipment is.” “Sir,” the young man protests, “you can’t be serious. I’m a college graduate.” “Oh, sorry,” says the manager, pointing to the broom. “No problem. I can show you how that thing works.”
Today is Ascension Sunday — a day that often feels a little strange in the church calendar. Christmas has a baby Jesus. Easter has an empty tomb. Pentecost has fire and wind. But Ascension Day? Do you know what Ascension Day is? Yes, it is the day Jesus rises into the clouds and disappears from sight. It can feel mysterious. Ascension Sunday is about living in the in-between — between the clouds and the calling, between what was and what will be, between Jesus leaving and the Spirit arriving, between certainty and trust. In other words, it is the moment between Jesus’ Ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit.
The disciples are standing in that very place in today’s Scripture. They have completed three years of training as disciples of Jesus. It is almost like their graduation. Jesus gave his long farewell speech, and then he is gone into the clouds. He disappears. So, what’s next? What should they do? They stand there looking up into the sky. It is like time has paused. It is like they are frozen.
When Jesus died on the cross, they felt it was the end of the world. They were disappointed because they expected Jesus to create a new world, a new kingdom on earth. However, Jesus rose from the dead. He spent forty days teaching them, eating with them, and appearing among them. The disciples must have thought, ‘Now things will finally make sense.’
So, they ask: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” In other words: “Is this the moment everything gets fixed?” It makes sense to us, doesn’t it? We ask it too. ‘Lord, is this the moment healing will come?’ ‘Is this the time grief will ease?’ ‘Is this the season when life will finally settle down?’ ‘Is this when justice will come? When peace will arrive? When the future will become clear?’
The disciples want a roadmap. They want certainty. They want answers. And yes, we also want God’s clear answers. But Jesus does not give them a timeline. Instead, he gives them a calling. “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:7–8)
And then he disappears into the clouds. He ascends into the heaven. Is that all? “Lord! That’s not the answer to what we asked!” We may even complain, saying, “Lord, you should tell me when the world will be fixed, when will my life become good enough.”
But, notice what Jesus does here. The disciples are focused on when. Jesus redirects them to who they are called to be. When we face difficult situations or painful circumstances, we often forget who we are.
Here is my story. After experiencing God’s healing of my broken spine, I was baptized, graduated from seminary, and planted a new church. I was convinced that God was my supporter, my provider, my guide, my rock, and my helper. Whatever I asked of God, I trusted God would do for me. And God did provide somehow. The church was growing, the preschool was doing well, and my back became healthy. My blessings seemed to grow day by day.
But then my mother passed away unexpectedly. I was disappointed in God. I did not understand why God had taken my mother away. It felt as though my life had paused. It felt like the end of the world.
I decided I would wrestle with God through fasting and ask why He had taken my mother away. I did not eat anything. I felt depressed and hopeless. Then I continued fasting for 40 days, reading the Scripture, trying to understand why God had taken my mother. The more I fasted, the more strength I gained. I trusted the words of Jesus: “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” (John 14:14). But instead of receiving the answer I wanted, I rediscovered who I was and how God had brought me to this place. Yes, God had healed me and called me to serve God and God’s people. Then I confessed: whether I live or die, I will live for Jesus Christ. Finally, I could move forward in ministry.
In today’s Scripture, the disciples want information, but Jesus gives them vocation. They want clarity about the future, but Jesus calls them to faithfulness in the present. And then — before they can ask another question — he is lifted up into the clouds.
Can you imagine that moment? The disciples stare upward, frozen between wonder and loss. And honestly, who could blame them?
Sometimes we stand looking upward too. We stare into the clouds of uncertainty, waiting for direction, waiting for answers, waiting for God to explain things that do not make sense.
There are seasons in life that feel suspended: A family waiting beside a hospital bed. A church wondering about the future. A graduate stepping onto an unknown road. A grieving heart trying to rediscover joy. A person praying for guidance but hearing only silence.
The Ascension takes place in that uncomfortable space called waiting. And waiting is hard. We prefer resolutions. We prefer certainty. We prefer immediate answers. But faith often grows in the in-between places.
The disciples do not yet know what Pentecost will look like. They cannot yet imagine the Spirit descending like fire. They do not yet know how the Gospel will spread across the world. All they know is this: Jesus is gone from their sight, and they are standing beneath the clouds. Then suddenly two messengers appear and ask: “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”
It is a redirection. Do not remain frozen here. There is work to do. There is a Gospel to share. There is a hurting world waiting for hope.
Ascension is not the story of Jesus abandoning the earth. It is the story of Jesus entrusting the mission to his people. And perhaps that is the calling for us today — not to remain staring into the clouds of fear or uncertainty, but to move forward in trust. We may not know everything about the future, but we know who walks with us. We may not have every answer, but we have the promise of the Holy Spirit. We may live in an in-between season, but in-between seasons are not empty. God is present there too.
The beautiful truth of Ascension Sunday is this: Christ is no longer confined to one place. Before the Ascension, Jesus walked beside a few disciples on dusty roads. After the Ascension, through the Spirit, Christ can be present everywhere — in every church, every hospital room, every kitchen table, every prison, every grieving heart, every place where love is needed.
And so, the disciples eventually stop staring upward. They return to Jerusalem. They pray. They wait together. And slowly, faithfully, they prepare for what God will do next. Maybe that is where some of us are today — standing between the clouds and the calling. Not fully certain. Not fully ready. Still waiting. If you are waiting for answers, feeling as though your life is paused or frozen, don’t give up. Instead, pray continually. And yet Christ meets you there. Because even in the waiting, even in the uncertainty, even beneath the clouds, God is still at work for you.
Thanks be to God. Amen.