In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

After the joy and wonder of the Ascension, the Church enters a strange and holy pause. Christ has ascended to the Father. Pentecost has not yet come. The disciples are waiting — uncertain, praying, faithful.

The readings for this Sunday after Ascension invite us into that same place of waiting.

In the Gospel, we are allowed to overhear the prayer of Jesus. In Acts, we see the disciples gathered together in prayer after the Ascension. And in 1 Peter, we are reminded that the Christian life will not always be easy or comfortable, yet even suffering can become a sharing in the glory of Christ.

In John chapter 17, Jesus lifts his eyes to heaven and prays:

“Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.”

This is not a desperate prayer. It is not fear speaking. It is love speaking. Jesus knows the Cross lies before him, yet he speaks of glory. Because for Jesus, glory is not power or applause or success in the world’s eyes. Glory is self-giving love.

And then he prays for his disciples:

“Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me.”

What a comforting thing to hear. Before the disciples face persecution, confusion, and weakness, Jesus prays for them. Before Pentecost empowers them, Jesus entrusts them to the Father.

And the same is true for us.

Before we ever pray to Christ, Christ has already prayed for us.

When we feel uncertain in faith…
When the Church feels fragile…
When life feels confusing or painful…
Jesus continues to intercede for his people.

The Ascension is not Christ abandoning the world. It is Christ reigning for the world, praying for the world, drawing humanity into the life of heaven itself.

In Acts, after Jesus ascends, the disciples return to Jerusalem. And what do they do?

They pray.

Not occasionally. Not half-heartedly. Luke says:

“All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer.”

That little upper room becomes the birthplace of the Church.

Notice what they do not do. They do not rush into action. They do not create committees or strategies or campaigns. First, they pray. They wait together. They remain faithful together.

And perhaps that is an important word for the Church today.

We often feel pressure to be busy, productive, successful. Yet the Church is born not from frantic activity but from prayerful dependence upon God.

The disciples do not yet know exactly what lies ahead. But they know where to wait — together, in prayer, close to the promise of Jesus.

Perhaps some of us are in an “in-between” season ourselves.

Waiting for guidance.
Waiting for healing.
Waiting for clarity.
Waiting for strength.

The Sunday after Ascension reminds us that waiting is not wasted time when it is filled with prayer.

God often does deep work in hidden rooms before he does visible work in the world.

And then we hear those striking words from 1 Peter:

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that is taking place among you.”

Peter speaks realistically about the Christian life. Faithfulness will sometimes bring hardship. To belong to Christ is to walk the way of the Cross before entering the glory of resurrection.

Yet Peter says something astonishing:

“Rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings.”

Not because suffering itself is good, but because Christ is present within it.

The world often assumes suffering means God has abandoned us. The Gospel says the opposite: sometimes Christ is closest precisely there.

The disciples who wait in prayer in Acts will soon become apostles who suffer for the name of Jesus. Yet they will also become people filled with joy, courage, and the Holy Spirit.

And so this Sunday stands between Ascension and Pentecost as a quiet invitation.

Wait.
Pray.
Remain faithful.
Trust the prayers of Christ.
And do not lose heart.

Because the same Lord who ascended into heaven has not left his Church alone.

He prays for us still.
He sends his Spirit still.
And he calls us, even in weakness, to share in his glory.