"Why Are You Still Staring?"

After Easter: A Journey to Pentecost

Have you ever come to the end of something incredible and thought, Now what? You finish the degree. You walk out of the hospital. You stand at a graveside. There’s a strange silence after big moments—where awe and uncertainty collide. The disciples knew that feeling. Jesus had risen. Death had lost. Hope had walked out of a tomb. And now, they were standing with Him—alive, glorious, speaking final words. You’d expect a battle plan. A clear blueprint. Instead, He speaks of power. Of waiting. Of being His witnesses. And then—He’s gone. Ascended. Lifted out of sight. Can you imagine standing there? Mouth open. Heart pounding. Mind racing. Was that it? Are we on our own now? What are we supposed to do? It must have felt like an ending. But it wasn’t. It was a beginning.

Because Jesus didn’t vanish. He handed off. The mission didn’t stop—it launched. And He didn’t leave them powerless—He promised the Spirit. That moment wasn’t just for them. It was for us. Because here’s the twist: We are Why Are the next chapter in this story. He handed us the mission. And heaven is still watching to see what we’ll do with it.

The disciples watched Him rise—literally—into the clouds. The One who had stared death in the face and walked away victorious… was now ascending before their very eyes. It must’ve felt like the end again. But this wasn’t a retreat. It wasn’t Jesus disappearing. This was a throne being claimed. Jesus didn’t vanish—He ascended. Not to leave them, but to take His seat at the right hand of the Father. This was not abandonment. It was coronation.

Luke tells us that for forty days after the resurrection, Jesus appeared to them—again and again—teaching, proving, preparing. Why? Because the Kingdom wasn’t over. It was about to expand. Through them.

Acts 1:3 says: “He presented Himself alive… by many convincing proofs… and spoke about the Kingdom of God.” In other words: This is real. I’m alive. The mission is on. And when He ascended, it was heaven's declaration:The King reigns. As Hebrews says, “He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high.” Paul says He is now “far above all rule and authority.”

So when we carry His name, we don’t carry a memory. We carry the authority of the risen, reigning Jesus. We’re not just working for a cause. We’re on assignment from the throne. And if that doesn’t give us confidence… He also sent us His Spirit—His very presence—to go with us, in us, ahead of us. So don’t look up at the sky in confusion. Look out at the world in purpose. The King has ascended. And He has handed you the mission.

They were still trying to breathe. Still trying to wrap their minds around everything they had seen. The cross. The empty tomb. The risen Savior standing in front of them. And then—Jesus gives them a command that probably felt like the exact opposite of what they were ready to do: Wait.

“He ordered them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the promise of the Father.” (Acts 1:4) Wait? After all that? They must have burned with urgency—He’s alive! People need to know! Let’s move! Let’s go! But Jesus says, Not yet. Because this mission... this message... is too big for human strength. They weren’t just going to share good advice. They were going to carry the hope of the world. And for that—they needed power. “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you…” (Acts 1:8)

Not advice. Not strategy. Power. Jesus wasn’t sending them out alone. He was placing within them the very Spirit of the Living God. Not beside them. In them. Not as an idea, but as fire. They weren’t being told to be brave—they were being filled with boldness. Not just to speak—but to witness. To live lives that prove He is alive. To love in a way that makes no sense without Jesus. To stand in dark places and shine. To weep with the broken, to confront evil, to never back down—not because they’re strong, but because He is with them.

And He’s with you too. You’re not left to figure it out. You’re not sent into your marriage, your job, your pain, your calling empty-handed. You’ve been given the same Spirit. So when you feel weak—good. That’s where He works best. When you feel unsure—He’s already gone ahead of you. When you don’t know what to say—He’ll give you the words. This isn’t about what you can do. It’s about who lives inside you. And here’s the truth that changes everything: The Spirit of God lives in you—not just to comfort you, but to ignite you. To turn you into a witness. To the ends of the Earth.

So let me ask you—Where do you need that power today? Is it in your family? Your workplace? Your struggle with fear? That conversation you’ve been avoiding? The dream God put on your heart, but you’ve been too scared to chase? The same Spirit who empowered fishermen to stand before rulers… The same Spirit who turned a group of scared disciples into world-changers…Is available to you. Right now. This isn’t just a history lesson—it’s a handoff. The baton is in your hand. You’re not just a believer. You’re a witness. So let’s pause. Let’s ask honestly: Where have I been trying to do this in my own strength? And am I truly relying on the Spirit of God to lead me, fill me, and empower me? Because here’s the truth: We can’t move forward in mission until we surrender to His power. And we can’t fully receive that power if our hands are still clinging to control. Let’s take a moment to open our hands—and our hearts—and ask for what Jesus promised: Come, Holy Spirit. Fill us. Empower us. Send us.

So what did the disciples do? Jesus had just ascended before their eyes. The sky had swallowed Him up. And there they stood—motionless—staring into the clouds. Can you blame them? They had followed Him for years. Watched Him die. Touched His scars. Heard His final words. And now… He’s gone. They weren’t clapping. They weren’t shouting. They weren’t celebrating. They were stuck. Still. Eyes fixed upward. Hearts maybe confused, maybe afraid. Then—God sends a gentle interruption.

“Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus… will come in the same way you saw Him go.” (Acts 1:11) It was heaven’s way of saying: You’ve seen enough. Now it’s time to move. Because the story wasn’t going to continue in the sky. It was going to continue on the ground. Through them. Through us. And here’s what they did next—this small group of uncertain, ordinary people: They went back to Jerusalem… and they waited. Together. In prayer. In expectation. In obedience. They didn’t rush ahead. They didn’t shrink back. They positioned themselves to receive what Jesus promised. And because they did—Pentecost came. The Spirit fell. And the Church was born.

Now it’s our turn. We’ve seen enough. We know enough. Jesus is alive. Jesus is King. Jesus is returning. The only question left is: Will we keep staring at the sky… or will we step into the mission?

The mission doesn’t stop at the edge of comfort. It doesn’t pause at the borders of familiarity. It expands. It stretches. It moves. Jesus didn’t tell the disciples to build a monument. He told them to carry a message. To start where they were—but not to stay there.

“You will be my witnesses… in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8) That wasn’t just geography. It was a roadmap for the gospel’s explosion. From home, to neighbors, to enemies, to strangers. From the heart… to the world. Pastor—how does your church reflect that movement? What ministries, what efforts, what intentional steps are being taken to bring the good news to those near… and far? Because the gospel is not meant to sit safely in our pews. It’s meant to run—through us. Across streets. Across boundaries. Across cultures. It starts with people. Not programs. Jesus didn’t hand out a strategy guide—He commissioned hearts. He sent people filled with the Spirit to be witnesses—living proof of resurrection power.

So ask yourself: Who’s your Jerusalem—the people right around you who desperately need to know they’re loved?

What’s your Judea and Samaria—the uncomfortable places or unfamiliar faces God is nudging you toward?

And what’s your part in the ends of the earth—is He calling you to go? To give? To pray?

We were never meant to keep this to ourselves. The gospel is not a secret to guard—it’s a fire to spread. The mission is the heartbeat of the Church. And Jesus has already said Go. You don’t go alone. You don’t go powerless. You go with the full authority of the risen King. You go in the power of the Spirit. You go carrying the name above every name. And yes—it will cost you comfort. But it will give you purpose. And that’s a trade worth making.

So here we are—On the other side of the resurrection. On the edge of the ascension. Just like the disciples… standing, watching, wondering: What now? And maybe that’s where you are today. Watching. Waiting. Hoping for clarity… but afraid of the cost. But listen closely—This moment is not the end. It’s a beginning. Because the Church wasn’t born in comfort. It was born in fire. And you—yes, you—Were never meant to be a spectator in God’s story. You were meant to be a witness.

You were meant to go. Not because you’re strong. Not because you’re ready. But because He is. And the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead is waiting—not for someone else—but for you to say yes. To step out. To speak up. To go farther. So today, maybe you're expecting a tidy ending. A neat prayer. A moment to reflect and move on. But that’s not what this moment is. Because the real ending to this story… is still being written. And it’s not written on this stage. It’s not even written in this church. It’s written in your life. When you leave here today…Where you go. What you say. Who you serve. How you love. That’s the next chapter of Acts. You are the continuation. You are the Church. You are the witness. So what are you still staring at? Go.