Witness
Summary
Pastor Dominic Jackson opens the series on the book of Acts by looking at how Luke frames his second volume: not as a history of the apostles, but as the continuation of all that Jesus “began to do and to teach,” now carried forward by his Spirit-empowered followers. Dominic explores why the church needs both the teachings and the works of Jesus, why waiting on God is never wasted time, and how the disciples’ hope for political restoration gave way to a much larger mission. The ascension is not Jesus’ absence but his enthronement. From there he sends his church to be his witnesses, beginning not at the ends of the earth but right where they stand.
Questions for reflection
Luke describes his Gospel as an account of what Jesus “began” to do and teach. What does it mean to you that the church exists to continue that work? Where do you see it continuing today?
The sermon names two extremes in reading Acts: treating it only as a textbook of teachings, or only as a manual for miracles. Which do you naturally lean toward? What might you be missing?
Jesus told his followers to wait before sending them out. If you’re in a season of waiting, what might God be preparing in you right now?
The disciples asked when Jesus would restore Israel, but Jesus pointed them to a mission. In what ways are you tempted to ask God for a platform or an outcome rather than asking how you can serve?
The mission begins in Jerusalem, essentially the disciples’ own backyard. Where is your Jerusalem? Who is right in front of you that you might be overlooking?
The ascension means Jesus is reigning, not absent, and that he will return. How does that hope shape the way you live while you wait?
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Dominic Jackson:
To state the obvious, I sound terrible. I don’t know how today is going to go. But we’re all going to find out together. You might be curious, but probably not more curious than I am. If you’d like, you can just close your eyes and pretend that Johnny Cash is guest preaching at the Gateway Church this morning. Also, Eli, you’re ready in case I have to tap you. Eli the intern. He didn’t know that, but it might be interesting.So the good news is, as we start this book, I ended up splitting my sermon in half. It might be a little shorter one today. We’ll pick it up next week. But the good news is, the book of Acts does all the heavy lifting for me. I probably could have just asked Addie to read our passage, like, four times and dismissed us all to go to lunch. It’s so good. But I’m going to try my best to add some commentary here, and then hopefully I’ll sound like a normal person next week.
So before we start, I just wanted to open with a question. Have you ever watched a film, read a book, or started a television series, and then, right as it’s getting good, it ends on a cliffhanger—and then it never comes back? Has that ever happened to you before?
My senior year of high school—this will date me a little bit—my mom and I would usually watch a show together. And my mom actually lives with us now, so we get to do that again, which is fun. But in high school, my mom and I would usually be watching a show weekly. And for us, there was a television show that we both liked. It had fun characters. It was likable. The theology was pretty questionable—it was pretty bad—but it was still fun. It was our weekly show. It was a show called Joan of Arcadia. Anybody remember that? Like three of you, probably, because nobody watched it. And they canceled it after two seasons. And it ended on, like, the biggest cliffhanger ever, and it never came back.
Or if you remember the National Treasure movies—they’re so fun. They’re, like, silly, but they’re so fun. There was supposed to be a third one. And then there was a writers’ strike, I think, and there was disagreement about the direction. They ended up doing a series, which was pretty bad. But still, we never find out what happened—like, what was on page 47, if you remember that cliffhanger, right?
Well, though you won’t find the three words “to be continued” at the end of the Gospel according to Luke, in many ways that is how the book ends. We see the life of Jesus—he’s born, he’s raised, he begins his ministry, he lives, he ministers, performs these miracles, gives these amazing teachings. And then he’s arrested, and then he’s murdered—he’s crucified. But then he’s resurrected, right? And then, right before the book ends, he commissions his followers to go out, to continue—I’m paraphrasing here—to continue all that he was doing. “Keep doing this,” right? And then he disappears. And in anticipation and preparation of his return, Luke ends with a sort of “to be continued.”
But luckily for us, unlike some of our favorite TV shows, or novels that were supposed to be a trilogy and just kind of stopped, we do get a second part to the Gospel according to Luke, which is the book of Acts.
Here’s a quote from a New Testament theologian, a Yale professor, describing Acts. His name is Jaroslav Pelikan. When it comes to theologian names, that’s as good as it gets. Jaroslav Pelikan says, “Taken simply as a tale of adventure, it is by far the most action-packed book in the New Testament. Acts is a book of frenetic action amid a constantly shifting scene: conspiracy and intrigue and ambush, incessant travel on an Odysseus-like scale all over the Mediterranean world, complete with shipwreck and venomous serpents, followed in at least two instances by a successful jailbreak.”
Simply put, Acts is an adventure. The Odyssey was super cool. I enjoyed it. Some of you guys watched it too. The Lord of the Rings—awesome. But the book of Acts is, I think, one of the greatest adventures ever told. One that, in 2026, we are being invited to join today. And I think the best way that we can start this adventure is with a word of prayer. Would you guys pray with me?
Lord, maker of heaven and earth and everything in them, we come to you in this moment just as the early believers gathered, with one hope: the unstoppable advance of your gospel. You have promised us power when the Holy Spirit comes upon us. And this is my prayer, Lord: just grant us the exact boldness the early apostles prayed for. Stretch out your hand to heal, to save, and to convict, that signs and wonders and truth and freedom might be seen through your name, Christ Jesus. So prepare the soil of every heart listening today, including mine—especially mine. Open minds to comprehend the Scriptures, unclog ears dulled by the noise of this world, and grant repentance and faith where there is resistance. Lord, may our gathering somehow be a demonstration of the Spirit’s power. We pray this in Jesus’ mighty name. Amen.
If you have a copy of the Scriptures, you’ll want to turn to the book of Acts. That’s where we’re going to be camping out—not just today, but for, I think, the next couple months here. It is the fifth book in the New Testament. You’ll find it right after the Gospel accounts. And as you are turning there, the words will also be on the screen. If you don’t have a copy, that’s okay.
As you’re turning there, if you’ll humor me for, like, two minutes—a little bit of history. But not the history of the book; we’ll get there. We’re going to look at a little different history, if that’s okay.
If you’ve ever done, like, a 23andMe or an Ancestry.com family tree—no matter how far back you go, eventually you hit a dead end, right? It’s not always linear. On one side of my family, I know about a great-grandmother. I never got to meet her, of course, but through records, I know who her grandmother was. But I have no idea about the person connecting them at all. No one in my family does. There’s no record. We don’t even know her name. Just her daughter and her mom. Otherwise, she’s missing from the family tree completely.
Well, the Gateway Church was planted 16 years ago. And I’m going somewhere with this, I promise. Sixteen years ago—we are, and have just about always been, a nondenominational church. However, we did not appear out of nowhere. We had a little help. Sixteen years ago, a local church sent out a small group of people. And some of you probably didn’t know this, especially if you are newer around here or haven’t been here for a decade. But this group, including our founding pastor and a few others, was sent out and supported by another local church in Des Moines. That church has gone through a lot of changes over the years. That church is now known as Reach Church. You probably see it as you drive to Target, right? And I don’t know anyone at this church. I don’t know much about it, but they seem like fine, Jesus-loving people. That’s enough for me.
Well, when it comes to the history of this particular church, Reach Church, I discovered this church was previously known as First Assembly of God Church of Des Moines, and it was planted in 1997. Worth repeating again: we are not an Assemblies of God church. But lots of love to them, especially because they helped launch the Gateway Church 16 years ago.
Here’s the thing. The Assemblies of God denomination can be traced back to an African American holiness preacher named William J. Seymour, who was one of the main voices of the Azusa Street Revival—if you’ve ever heard of this—in the early 1900s. And he was preaching about what would become the Pentecostal movement. He preached about racial reconciliation. He preached about the restoration of biblical spiritual truths.
Seymour was a student of a guy named Charles Parham, who, before he was an early Pentecostal, was a Methodist preacher. He actually started preaching when he was 15, which is pretty impressive—or the church was really desperate. I don’t know which one. But still. So the Methodist Church is where this guy started—who inspired the guy, who inspired the guy, right? And the Methodist Church can be traced back to a Bible study that took place at Oxford University with two brothers, John and Charles Wesley. Now, before starting the Wesleyan movement, which would inspire the Methodist Church, the Wesleys grew up attending a church—the Church of England, also known as the Anglican Church.
Now, I could keep going and going and going. This stuff fascinates me. I’m probably the only one, so thank you for humoring me. But church history is so interesting to me. We could talk about the genesis of the Anglican Church and trace it back to King Henry VIII, who really wanted to get out of a marriage, right? And there was that split with Catholicism, if you know that story. We could talk about the history of the Catholic Church—there’s some debate there. We could talk about the church fathers, or Constantine’s Edict of Milan, or Pope Gregory, right? And all of you guys would fall asleep, but that’s okay. I could spend a week talking about how one church led to another church, and led to a movement, and inspired a preacher, and kept on going.
And though there are some fuzzy years in church history—just like that missing great-grandparent in my family tree—some are unknown, or at the very least debatable. There are some missing links in there. But what we can all agree on—the Baptists, the Pentecostals, the Lutherans, the Anglicans, the Catholics, even the Gateway Church, whatever in the world we are—what we can all agree on is that if someone did find those missing links, all of us would, in one way or another, trace our history back to the early church—the first church, the book of Acts.
This—all of this—is so much bigger than us, than you. And I think it’s so easy to forget that at times. That right now, all over the world, people are worshiping the name of Jesus. People have been doing that, and we could trace it back 2,000 years. And this would lead to revivals and missionary journeys and different denominations, and even a church that meets above a liquor store in 2026, right? And so what we are going to be looking at for the next few months is the beginning of that church—one that is so much bigger than us.
So, Acts chapter 1: “In my former book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and to teach.” Pause there for a second. We find out a lot in those first few words. The author has another book, right? We, of course, know that this is the Gospel according to Luke. And he’s writing to a guy named Theophilus, a wealthy Gentile nobleman. And we get clues in Luke 1—from the title that he uses for him, we could make our best guess. There are a couple of things there, but what appears is that Theophilus is bankrolling this ministry. He’s sponsoring Luke to write this book, which would become two books, Luke and Acts, right?
And what is the assignment? According to the opening, “all that Jesus began to do and to teach.” That is what Theophilus is paying Luke to go and record. Also notice that word “began,” connected to a mention of the Spirit of God.
This book of the Bible is often referred to as the Acts of the Apostles. In fact, your Bibles probably say either “Acts” or “Acts of the Apostles.” Even though you won’t find that title in the original manuscript—we’ve added it because it’s helpful for organizing the canon—“Acts of the Apostles” is how it’s generally known, and I get why. However, I think a better name is found here in the text: the acts through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. It’s a bit wordy, so I guess “Acts of the Apostles” makes sense. But this is not so much a history of the people in the early church as it is the story of Jesus continuing his gospel mission through a group of believers—empowered by the Spirit of God to continue all that Jesus was doing. Read the Gospel accounts. That was the mission for this church: to continue doing that.
Also worth mentioning: that expression, “did and taught”—there’s a lot packed under that. And I know we haven’t even gotten past one verse. I’m sorry. Sorry, not sorry. But John Calvin once called this the holy knot, right? Because just like when you tie your shoes, you need two ends of the string, right—two laces to make a knot, which allows you to walk without tripping. Well, he compares this to the life of Jesus and explains that we need both the teachings and the acts of Jesus, right? The holy knot, coming together to help us walk with him—hopefully without tripping either.
The reason I mention this is that many people will approach the book of Acts from one of two extremes. At least in the church movements that I grew up in, this is usually how I’ve seen it approached—and I’ve seen both, right? One camp will read this text focusing on the teachings that come from Acts, and will turn it into a textbook. This book is about moral lessons and instructions and lectures, and that’s mostly it. And sure, there’s a lot of stuff about spiritual gifts and supernatural things occurring, but that was then. That’s not for us now, obviously, right? So that’s one camp.
Then there’s another camp that will read the book of Acts and push past the teachings, the sermons that are found here, and focus on the acts—the miracles, the actions—and say, clearly the instruction isn’t about doctrine. It’s not about theology. The reason we have this book is as a manual for how you and I can perform miracles. Speaking in tongues, healing people, even handling snakes, if that’s your thing, right? And so we see these two different approaches. We’ll cover the spiritual gifts later on in this series, in case you’re interested.
But for now, I just want to say: the life of Jesus and the teachings of Jesus are both incredibly powerful, helpful, and invitational to all of us. And for once, I agree with John Calvin. A holy knot. Both are crucial there. As for what that looks like, you’ll just have to keep showing up as we move through this. You won’t find an emphasis on only the spiritual gifts. Nor will we turn this into a textbook and just focus on the teaching. We see both of these coming together.
Speaking of, verse 2 continues: “until the day he was taken up to heaven”—Jesus—“after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God. On one occasion, while he was eating with them, he gave them this command: ‘Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’”
So verse 3 says, “many convincing proofs,” over 40 days. Notice Luke’s concern for eyewitness certainty. This isn’t legend. This is testimony. And it’s really important to acknowledge that. Luke was commissioned to investigate Jesus and Christianity. He is a doctor. He is a theologian. But when he sets out, he is also an investigator. And so please hear this: the Christian faith rests on a historical, verifiable resurrection—not wishful thinking.
Also, this book, important to note, spans 30 years. Thirty years. Luke is believed to have written Acts in or around AD 63, and the book begins in AD 29. I’m not very good at math, but I can at least handle that one, right? So this is a long time—30 years, 31 years. I told you I wasn’t good at math. Okay. Now I’m questioning my math—30-ish years.
But here’s the thing. It’s a long time, but it’s also not a long time when it comes to records and accounts and eyewitnesses. Remember the history of the Gateway Church, right? Sixteen years ago, we were planted by another local church that was planted 15 years before that. If I was investigating, I could easily find people who were there 30 years ago—who were in that room. Give me a week, and I could probably find some people in the area. I might even be able to find some photos of that first worship gathering in 1997, right? But give me 30 years and a substantial budget, and I could probably find more details than you could imagine—and I wouldn’t even need the internet or AI, right? Just people’s testimony.
And so I just want to acknowledge the amount of work. And we find out later just how many people were interviewed, over and over and over. People who were not saying, “I heard this from this other person, who heard this from this person.” No: “I saw Jesus. I touched Jesus.” And so our private eye, Luke, interviews probably hundreds of people and hears about the miraculous, amazing life of Jesus.
Also, by the way, there’s this cool shift we’ll find where Luke stops saying “them” or “they,” and halfway through he starts to say “we,” as he begins to insert himself into the narrative—as he eventually becomes a follower of Jesus himself.
But before we move on to verse 6, notice that after they are told to wait for the upcoming arrival of the Holy Spirit—notice that in their waiting, God is at work. It says he gave them this command: “Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about.” Clearly we see here that waiting is not wasted time. God is preparing them for something. The church is not sent out until it’s ready—until it is filled.
And so I just want to say, if you are in a season of waiting right now in your life, whatever that looks like, a question to ask is: what might God want for me during this time? What might God be doing, inviting me into, here and now, before he leads me to the next thing?
I remember when I was in seminary, I could not wait to graduate and, quote, “do real ministry,” right? Until I was challenged by a friend and professor of mine. He told me to look around and recognize that the unique opportunity I was in at that moment, I would never have again. At the time, I was single. I was young. I had tons of free time. I had few responsibilities. And in this moment, the early church has a unique time to discern the voice of God in preparation.
But they don’t ask this question: what might God be preparing me for? Instead, they have a different question. Verse 6: “Then they gathered around him”—Jesus—“and asked him, ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’” Notice they are still thinking nationally, politically, immediately, right? They want restoration, not mission. And Lord knows I have done the same so many times myself. We often ask God, “When? And what’s in it for me?” when he’s asking us to ask, “How do I serve? What do you need now?”
I am no Jesus, obviously. But over the years, I’ve had a lot of associates and interns and people approach me and say, “Hey, I really want to preach.” Or, “I want to lead worship,” right? “I’m ready to be used by God in this particular way.” And I will always say, “That’s awesome. Let’s talk about that a little bit later. But for now, we could really use some help stacking chairs after service. Or do you think you could make the coffee? Or there’s this lady in the church who’s a shut-in. Do you think you could just go drop off a meal and visit her for a little while and pray with her?” And the truth is, 80 percent of the time, the conversation ends there. And 90 percent of the time, within a month, these future pastors are gone. Because a lot of people are seeking a platform, but they aren’t also seeking a mission.
And so, according to a lot of the early Christians: rescue Israel. Take out Rome. That is how the church should be planted. Elevate me and my community, Jesus, and get rid of my enemies—and do it as soon as possible, right? And we’ll see later in conversations, they’ll also add, “Oh, and feel free to appoint me as one of the leaders doing this.” But God’s got a different plan. It’s not the one that anyone wants, but it’s definitely the one that they need.
He said to them, verse 7: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
Here we are today—a Gentile, an Irish American, in the year 2026, in Des Moines, Iowa, of all places—who will echo the words of an Ethiopian pastor speaking the Gamo language in the Arba Minch mountains right now. We’ll join an Indian pastor sharing the gospel on a radio broadcast, who will sound a whole lot like an Indigenous worship leader standing in what is now French Canada—all of us collectively saying hallelujah. We’re not completely there. But as far as the ends of the earth go, we’re getting pretty close.
As a side note, I was once talking to someone about Jesus—and I knew this person; I wasn’t being weird. I was being a little weird. But I was talking to someone about Jesus, and they kind of stopped me in my tracks and said, “Hey, man, I’m not interested in the colonizer, white man’s religion.” To which I responded, “Well, that makes two of us.” More on that in a couple of weeks.
But again, as this thing spreads all over the world, we see this mission begin 2,000 years ago. And we see it in every corner and every language. And one day, every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord. We’ll pick that up in two weeks. But here, Jesus tells them: hang on. Wait. The time is not here yet. Trust. And wait.
Also notice the Great Commission of Acts: power from the Spirit; witness in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. This verse is the structural outline of the entire book of Acts—and of the church’s mission ever since. But note where they start. Notice this, because it’s so easy to miss: in Jerusalem. Essentially, their own backyard. Start there.
Before Acts 1, and even before the Great Commission in Matthew 28, Jesus commissions his disciples—if you remember this—to go out and begin preaching. But where does he tell them to start? Matthew 10. I love how The Message paraphrases this. This is the beginning of their ministry:
“Jesus sent his twelve harvest hands out with this charge: ‘Don’t begin by traveling to some far-off place to convert unbelievers. And don’t try to be dramatic by tackling some public enemy. Go to the lost, confused people right here in the neighborhood. Tell them that the kingdom is here. Bring health to the sick. Raise the dead. Touch the untouchables. Kick out the demons. You have been treated generously, so live generously. Don’t think you have to put on a fund-raising campaign before you start. You don’t need a lot of equipment. You are the equipment, and all you need to keep that going is three meals a day. Travel light.’”
This is Jesus sending out his disciples—and where to start. Jesus cares deeply about Judea and Samaria and the ends of the earth. But he also cares about Des Moines, Iowa. And he cares about wherever the person listening is hearing this.
And for so many people—in one way, we are so communally focused on ourselves, like these early Christians are with the needs of Jerusalem. But when it comes to ministry in Jerusalem, sometimes it’s easier to go somewhere far away instead of seeing the unique opportunities we have right here. I’ve known so many people—I’ve watched street preachers over the years hop in their car and drive somewhere else, to another neighborhood, because it’s so much easier to do that where nobody knows your name.
In the book of Acts, the gospel is going to spread all over the world. We’re going to see that. But it starts where they are standing. And so go on a missions trip. Tell strangers about Jesus. But the other invitation might be to look at who is right in front of you.
Let’s finish it out. “After he said this, he”—Jesus—“was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. They were looking intently up into the sky as he was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. ‘Men of Galilee,’ they said, ‘why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.’”
So in verse 9, he was lifted up, and a cloud was before them, right? This echoes Daniel 7:13, if you’re a nerd and you instantly made that association with the Old Testament. And they’re gazing into heaven, it says, which I think is pretty understandable. I think that’s where my attention would go—watching Jesus go. But here’s what’s important about the ascension: the ascension isn’t Jesus leaving. It’s Jesus being enthroned. He’s not absent. He’s reigning and sending. And notice the promise: this Jesus will come back in the same way they saw him go. The ascension guarantees the return of Jesus—the second coming.
And so I’ll end with this. Where is your Jerusalem? Where is your Jerusalem? In which ways do you believe you have a better plan than Jesus? Lord knows I have thought I did over the years myself. I still struggle with that. Remember, the first thing they said was, “Okay, Jesus, you ready to get to work? Here’s where you should start.” In which ways do we do the same thing? Speaking back to your Jerusalem, in what ways are we maybe avoiding the work that needs renewal, reconciliation? In what ways are we avoiding the work that is right in front of us?
And then, last question: how do we [live] as we wait? We are somewhere in between these two stories, right? We’re somewhere in between the now and the not yet—between Jesus exiting his first ministry on earth and his return, which we’ll talk a whole lot about in Advent. But we are waiting on the return of Jesus. So how are we staring off into heaven as we wait, instead of getting to work while we’re here? More on that next week. Would you guys pray with me?
Lord, my prayer is simple. I think when we read a story like this, it’s so easy to forget that we’re reading the account of real people, with real emotions and real questions. Lord, we could skip to Acts 28. We could even skip to the end of Revelation. We know how the story ends—but often they didn’t. And so, Lord, I think that when we read this, it’s so easy to distance ourselves, not only from all that you were doing, but from all that you are inviting us to do today.
Lord, I just want to pray boldly right now. Holy Spirit, impress upon us the needs of this community—the spiritual needs, but also the physical needs—and continue molding us, shaping us, to be more like Christ Jesus. Help us not to approach Acts as a history book or something distant from us, but as an invitation. As we look at how you started your church—as we’ll begin to next week, as we look at that text—let us also recognize the beauty of your mission. And as confusing as it is at times that you would choose us—that you have no plan B; we’re it; this is it, flawed, broken humans—as confusing as that is, I think about what a beautiful representation that is of the gospel. And so, Lord, give us the strength, give us discernment, and give us the heart to go out—not just to be hearers of this word, but also doers of the invitation you invite us into. We pray this in Jesus’ name. Amen.