Date: June 1, 2025
Festival: The Ascension of Our Lord (Observed)
Text: Acts 1:1-11
Preaching Occasion: Calvary Lutheran Church, Carson City, MI; Peace Lutheran Church, Alma, MI
Appointed Scriptures: 2 Kings 2:5-15; Acts 1:1-11; Luke 24:44-53
Sermon Hymn: LSB #491 Up Through Endless Ranks of Angels
Many Infallible Proofs (vv. 1-3)
Christ is risen! {He is risen indeed! Alleluia!} In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Dear saints, in St. Luke’s prequel—the Gospel with his namesake—Luke had written of all Jesus began to do and teach. Not what He finished, but what He began. The Acts of the Apostles—or more accurately, the Acts of the Holy Spirit—do not describe a new story but the continuing work of the same Lord, now ascended and ruling at the Father’s right hand. The empty tomb was not the epilogue to God’s story of salvation. The resurrection was not the curtain call—it was the dawn of the Church’s first morning.
For forty days, Jesus who had been crucified showed Himself alive. Forty days of mercy, teaching, touching wounds, and breaking bread. Forty days in which Jesus appeared not to kings or Pharisees or courts, but to His people—those who trembled, denied, and even fled. He returned to them not to scold them but to send them to make disciples of all nations, to open the Scriptures, to breathe peace, and to proclaim that death itself had no hold over Him.
With many infallible proofs, He revealed His risen body. Proof not for the sake of curiosity but for the sake of certainty, so that no trembling soul would wonder whether His resurrection is just mere myth, and that no doubting heart would falter in fear. The same Jesus who had spoken on Galilee’s hills and wept at Lazarus’ tomb now stands alive on this side of the grave.
What are these infallible proofs of His resurrection? He appeared to Mary Magdalene [John 20:11-18]; the women at the tomb [Matt. 28:9-10]; Peter [Luke 24:34; 1 Cor. 15:5]; the two disciples on the road to Emmaus [Luke 24:13-35]; the disciples in the locked room [John 20:19-23]; all the disciples, including Thomas, eight days later [John 20:24-29]; seven disciples at the Sea of Tiberias [John 21:1-14]; more than 500 believers at once [1 Cor. 15:6]; as well as St. James [1 Cor. 15:7]; and all the apostles, of course, at His Ascension. Even the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms spoke of Him.
In these appearances, Jesus did not dazzle the crowds. He did not overwhelm the nations. He simply dined, walked, and spoke of His kingdom. He gave His Church the solid ground upon which to build: Himself, crucified, risen, glorified, and present.
Power from on High (vv. 4-8)
And He told His chosen Apostles to wait. Not to conquer or to campaign for His kingship, but to wait in Jerusalem for the promise He told them He would give them [Luke 24:49]. The risen Lord could have sent them out immediately. He could have said, “Go and tell the nations,” and left them to it. But instead, He bids them to stay in the city where fear had once ruled their hearts, where their hopes had been buried in a borrowed tomb. He tells them to remain not to play games with them, but because the promised Spirit is coming.
John baptized with water, but soon they would be baptized with fire and wind, power and courage. Not a new Moses, not a second Elijah, but the Holy Spirit Himself—the very breath of God who hovered over the waters of creation, who spoke through the Prophets, and who anointed the Christ at His Baptism in the Jordan. The Spirit would make them witnesses—or literally from the Greek, martyrs. Not just believers or recipients, but witnesses and martyrs—those who saw and now must speak what they have seen with their own eyes.
Now, it is here in verse 5 of Acts 1 that you will hear many Christians say this is proof of a second baptism—that there is water baptism and then there is Spirit baptism, and the second one is the better and most necessary of the two. But these Christians commit a very common hermeneutical mistake, which is to read description as prescription—that is, the error of reading what the Scriptures are describing as prescribing doctrine or behavior.
This “baptism of the Holy Spirit” Jesus describes is not a separate baptism from water baptism but rather the fulfillment of what water baptism bestows. “Water baptism” is actually redundant—and I’ll get to that in a minute—but for now, it’s not a repudiation of water baptism but the promise of what Christian Baptism actually gives. John’s baptism was preparatory [Mark 1:4], but the Baptism instituted by Christ [Matt. 28:19] is, as Jesus says at the beginning of John’s Gospel, “of water and the Spirit” [John 3:5]. As a conjunction, that little word “and” conjoins—it doesn’t separate.
A little later, in Acts 2 when the Apostles receive the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost, it’s not to institute a second kind of baptism but to empower them uniquely as eyewitnesses and preachers of the Word. The same Spirit poured out upon them in tongues of fire is the same Spirit given to all the baptized—though not in identical measure or manner. As St. Paul writes, “For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body” [1 Cor. 12:13], and then elsewhere, “One Lord, one faith, one baptism” [Eph. 4:5].
Thus, Baptism in the Holy Spirit is not a post-conversion experience but the very nature of Christian Baptism itself where the Spirit is truly given through water and the Word, just as Peter will soon preach in his Pentecost sermon, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” [Acts 2:38]. This is where that redundancy comes in. The word “baptize” in Greek is the same verb for “wash” or “clean,” and this Baptism Peter spoke of that gives the Holy Spirit was given not through an emotional high of some ambiguous mountaintop experience but through water and the Word. “Baptize” is also the same word they used in Jewish purifying rituals that included water. Not to mention the fact that Jesus Himself was baptized only once, receiving the Holy Spirit through water and the Word.
But I’m getting us ahead of ourselves. Before that great day when they receive understanding through the Holy Spirit, the Apostles ask Jesus an ignorant question, “Will You at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” Their hopes still remain too small. They still look for a throne in Jerusalem—a kingdom of this world—when Christ’s kingdom is not of this world. “It is not for you to know the time or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority,” Jesus says. The kingdom will not come by calculations—it will come by testimony, that is, by witness and martyrdom. It will not be seized by sword or politics; it will be proclaimed from the breaths anointed by the Holy Spirit.
Therefore, Jesus says, “You shall be My witnesses.” Not heralds of Caesar. Not scribes of Moses. Not even ambassadors for yourselves. But His witnesses—to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and even to the ends of the Earth. Their witness will outlast their lives, as is testament today, even here in this very church. From the very city that crucified Him to the furthest edges of creation, the story of the risen Christ would go forth—and the world would never be the same.
Taken Up, But Not Gone (vv. 9-11)
And then—He was taken up. No chariot like Elijah’s. No whirlwind. Just a rising, quiet vanishing into the clouds. The same Jesus who had once walked beside the Sea of Galilee, who had touched the leper and raised the dead, was lifted beyond sight. The disciples stood in holy stillness, eyes fixed upward, hearts stunned by wonder. There was no sound (that we know of), no farewell pomp and circumstance, no benediction from the heavens like they heard at Jesus’ Baptism and Transfiguration. Just a cloud, and then the absence of His form.
We might think the story should end here because it’s the final scene of Jesus’ earthly ministry. But just as Elisha tore his garments and took up the fallen mantle of Elijah [2 Kings 2:13], so now the Church has taken up the mantle of Christ’s ministry of reconciliation [2 Cor. 5:18-20]—not in our own strength but clothed with the power of the Holy Spirit from on high, given to us in our Baptism.
As the Apostles stand gazing, two men—angels in disguise—speak: “Why do you stand looking into Heaven?” It’s not a rebuke but a reorientation. The point is not that He’s gone but that He will come again—He will advent—the same way He ascended. The Ascension is not His departure but His exaltation. It’s not the Lord leaving us behind but the Lord preparing the world to receive His Name in every tongue and nation.
“This same Jesus… will come again,” the angels declare. Not another. Not a shadow or vision or idea. This same Jesus—who was born of Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate, risen on the third day—will return in glory. And until that day, the Church is not orphaned. She is indwelled, empowered, and sent by the promised Holy Spirit.
The Glory and Hope of the Ascension
Dear saints, Christmas and Easter are the two usual high festivals marked by the Church (and the world, though with a certain commercialized corruption). Even Good Friday is made a big deal. But what about Ascension Day? We don’t treat it like a major holiday but as a simple footnote in history. But the Ascension is equally as important as Christ’s incarnation, death, and resurrection, and also has immediate relevance for us today. For Jesus is not on vacation—He’s not laying on a hammock, wearing sunglasses, sipping on a martini by some heavenly version of Daytona Beach.
If you want to know what Jesus is doing in His Ascension, read the Book of Hebrews this week—He’s our High Priest actively forgiving our sins. When you hear and receive Absolution whether corporately or privately, He is your High Priest pronouncing forgiveness over you. When you receive the Supper, He is your High Priest preparing and delivering the sacrifice of His body and blood for your atonement, which Hebrews says is better than the blood of bulls and goats [Heb. 10:1-4]. When you were baptized, He was the High Priest who gave you His promised Holy Spirit.
The Ascension of our Lord means there is One at the right hand of the Father who wears our humanity. One who is able to sympathize with us in all our weaknesses—One who knows your frailty, who knows what it’s like to suffer death, and who was tempted in every way as we are yet without sin [Heb. 4:14-15]. The Ascension means human flesh—the same as yours and mine—is not a burden to Heaven but now sits on its very throne.
His Ascension means you are not alone, even when it feels like you are. Though He ascended, He is not absent. As Elisha received the mantle and spirit of Elijah, so the Church receives something greater: the very Spirit of Christ—of God! You hear His voice and breath through His Word—in both the reading of the Scriptures and the sacrament of Absolution. He is present in the breaking of bread in the Supper. He fills you with His breath and gives you the voice to speak His name in your daily baptism, which Luther calls repentance [LC IV, 65, 74].
So, when the world seems empty of Him, when Heaven seems silent and your heart is heavy with grief or sorrow, remember He is still reigning. He’s not watching from afar like an apathetic watchmaker. He’s not indifferent to your wounds or your weeping. He is the same Jesus who wept at Lazarus’ tomb—the same Jesus who rules even now, directing all things for the good of those who love Him [Rom. 8:28]. He sees, He knows, and He waits for the appointed time of His Second Advent to inaugurate His kingdom in the new heavens and the new Earth.
For the same resurrected Jesus is the same who was taken up and will return in like manner. The same Lord who ascended into the clouds will one day descend with trumpet sound and angels’ shouts in the clouds. The sky that once received Him will be split open with His glory. And on that day, every eye shall see Him, every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess— even yours—that Jesus Christ is Lord [Phil. 2:10-11; Rev. 1:7].
Until then, we go as witnesses and martyrs. Not with power of our own but with the power of His Spirit, which proclaims His Word and forgives sins. Not with words of fear, but with the promise of His return. We go because He reigns. We speak because He speaks through us. We hope because He has not left us without comfort, for He has sent the Comforter Himself [John 14:26].
Therefore, when you hear in the Preface of the Sacrament, “Lift up your hearts,” do so knowing Jesus is not gone but preparing Himself for you in His Ascension; for He is with us now through His Holy Spirit who continues His Acts that began with the Apostles in the Word and Sacraments, through whom Jesus is with us always, even to the end of the age.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Lutheran Column 