Instead of grasping vertically toward the heavens, the people reach out horizontally by listening and talking to each other. Much like a jazz group, they play off each other. They build note by note, riff by riff, toward the ultimate reunion of all humanity with one another and with God.
When Jesus found fearful people huddled in locked upper rooms or on hillsides staring at the sky, he sent them right back down into the city. Right back into the liturgy of life in this world that he so loves. The incarnate liturgy in which his holy and life-giving Spirit is still to be found.
Jesus concludes his promises and reassurances by telling them that he will love them and will reveal himself to them. The love that he gives is not temporary, nor is it transactional.
Learning to let go and trust God with the details of the future can be a way of opening our eyes and our trust to the presence of God in the moment at hand. It truly can be a way, a truth, and a life for us right now. And this way is not just any way. It is the way of Jesus. The way of love. Maybe trust is just the space we need to meet this world with the kind of love Jesus taught and lived to the end.