Joy Takes Root
Ascension Sunday invites us into mystery—not a farewell, but a new beginning. In the swirling clouds, we are reminded that Christ reigns with love, not domination, and calls us to live with eyes lifted and hearts open. Even in a broken world, joy takes root, for the Lord is King—and that changes everything.
The Glimpses of Grace podcast is a ministry of Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, Georgia. We are passionate about supporting the spiritual growth of souls, and we hope these sermons and conversations meet you where you are and enrich your soul as we all continue to make meaning in the world today.
Glimpses of Grace on Spotify
Transcript
The Lord is king! Let the earth rejoice!
Today is Ascension Sunday,
a day of mystery and majesty, of farewell and glory.
It is the day we remember Christ’s ascent into heaven—
not disappearance, but a transformation;
not an ending, but a new beginning.
And into this swirling cloud of mystery comes Psalm 97, boldly proclaiming: “The Lord is king! Let the earth rejoice!”
The psalmist paints a picture of cosmic wonder:
clouds and thick darkness,
fire and flashes of light,
the earth writhes and dances,
and the heavens proclaim God’s abundance.
On this day when Jesus is “lifted up, and a cloud [takes] him out of their sight,” we are given this song of enthronement, this jubilant declaration: the Lord reigns!
But let’s be honest—Ascension Sunday is strange.
(you may remember Stuart’s image of Jesus’ dangling feet
in the passion play story he has shared before!)
It doesn’t make us nostalgic like Christmas…
It doesn’t tug at the heart like Holy Week and Easter…
It doesn’t sweep us into rushing wind and fire like Pentecost will next week… The Ascension feels abstract:
Jesus lifted into the clouds…what?
Yet maybe that strangeness is exactly the point.
Because the Ascension calls us to lift our eyes, to see a bigger picture.
Psalm 97 begins in the clouds:
“Clouds and thick darkness are round about him…”
That can feel true, doesn’t it?
We’re surrounded by often meaningless distractions,
systems that breed violence,
tragedy, heartbreak, depression, and loneliness.
In a world that’s confusing and chaotic, it’s only natural to crave clarity.
But, faith is deepened by a sense of
uncertainty, wonder, and mystery.
The cloud that envelops Jesus in Acts 1 is not just atmospheric; it is eternal. Like the cloud-mass that led Israel in the wilderness,
or that rested on Sinai when Moses received the law,
it signals the presence of God.
So when the disciples watch Jesus disappear into the cloud,
they are not losing him—they are being invited into a deeper faith. A truth that claims: that even when we can’t see clearly,
even when when things are strange or disorienting, the Lord reigns.
In Ephesians 1, Paul prays that we would have eyes to see
“the immeasurable greatness of [God’s] power.”
Not power as the world sees it. Not power that is domineering or coercive. Not power that is loud or ostentatious.
Paul says that God has made Christ the head of the body,
Christ who fills all things.
This points to power used to not oppress but to heal.
Authority used not to exclude, but to lift up.
The One who reigns from heaven welcomes every part of you into his kingdom. His power is love.
And that should shape how we live.
If Christ’s kingship is revealed in service and love,
then our response is not to stare up into the sky,
but to get to work.
That’s exactly what the angels tell the disciples,
“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”
It’s a gentle reorientation and commissioning.
You’ve seen the King ascend; now go and live like citizens of his kingdom. What does it mean to live like citizens of that kingdom today?
Psalm 97 moves from awe to joy:
“Light has sprung up for the righteous,
and joyful gladness for those who are truehearted.” =
“Light-seeds have been scattered,
joy-seeds have been planted in good heart-soil.”
Luke’s Gospel ends the same way.
After Jesus blesses the disciples and is carried up into heaven, they don’t weep—they worship…
they return to Jerusalem with abounding
joy.
Joy is a great gift. Joy isn’t born of having all the answers.
Joy’s not born of certainty. Joy springs up from true righteousness. Joy that comes from knowing that Jesus has not disappeared or abandoned us, but has gone ahead to reign in love—
and that we are the Church-Body, still moving and working in the world, living a life that is pleasing to God.
Joy is what gives us strength when the clouds of life gather.
Joy is what empowers us to say, even in a broken world,
“The Lord is King; let the earth rejoice!”
Ascension Sunday is a day of mystery and majesty, of farewell and glory. It’s not about absence, it is about presence in a new way.
It’s about lifting our eyes to see the world through heaven’s perspective. The Lord reigns—not one day, not eventually, but now.
So today, we don’t retreat into the clouds—we rejoice,
for we are rooted in joy.
As one modern hymn by Rend Collective puts it…
We choose celebration.
We face our shadows.
Darkness is simply a canvas for God’s grace and brightness.
Because “light-seeds have been scattered,
joy-seeds have been planted in good heart-soil.”
We’re dancing to the rhythm of Your heart
We’re rising from the ashes to the starsYou’re the joy joy joy lighting my soul
The joy joy joy making me wholeThough I’m broken, I am running
Into Your arms of love
You’re the song
Of our hearts
Amen.