“Ad Astra Per Aspera”

Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC of Manhattan, KS

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

October 18, 2026

The room where we enjoy coffee and snacks after worship each week was the original sanctuary of our church. Completed in 1859, the congregation held a special service to dedicate the new church building on July 24th of that year. On that same day, 120 miles to the East, Samuel D. Houston of Manhattan gathered with 51 other delegates to draft what would eventually become the constitution of the state of Kansas. 

At this point, Kansas was still a territory, and the journey towards statehood had been long and arduous. The constitution Houston and others were drafting in the summer of 1859 was, in fact, the fourth attempt at becoming a state. The first constitution was written in 1855 in Topeka. Since the U.S. congress was controlled by Southerners at that point and the Topeka constitution was to make Kansas a Free State, the constitution languished. The Southerners in Washington had no interest in adding another Free State to the Union. (As a side note: lest you think all those early abolitionist settlers in Kansas were anti-racist heroes, please note that in that first attempt at a Kansas constitution, the authors decided slavery would be illegal in Kansas but they ALSO decided no Black people - free or enslaved - would be allowed to live in the new state. Not a proud moment in Kansas history.)

In 1858, two other groups of territorial leaders tried their hand at writing a constitution - the proposed Leavenworth constitution was the most progressive, not only banning slavery but endowing Black men with the same rights as White men. The proposed Lecompton constitution went the opposite direction, attempting to enshrine Kansas as a slave state. Neither was adopted. 

Finally, we make it to 1859. As our church building was being dedicated, the territorial delegates in Wyandotte were putting the final touches on a drafted constitution which would eventually become the formal constitution of the State of Kansas when it entered the Union in 1861. One of the delegates at the convention was 26 year old John J. Ingalls - recently arrived from Massachusetts. He was clever with words and rumored to have “studied Webster’s dictionary more than any other man in this part of the country” so they put him in charge of wordsmithing. [1] Ingalls’ linguistic skills allowed him to leave his mark on the state constitution, but most of us can’t quote any of those words. What we CAN quote is the state motto, which Ingalls is said to have coined. It seems he was good with not just English, but Latin, too. Do you want to say it with me? Ad Astra Per Aspera. 

“To the stars through difficulties.”

Although we Kansans often shorten it to just “ad astra” you really need both parts of the phrase to capture the full meaning. It’s not just the idea of ascending to the heavens, but doing so in spite of hardship and challenge. A fitting phrase for a newly-formed state which needed four constitutional conventions to get going. 

Of course, we often don’t like to remember the difficult parts, do we? Sometimes it seems nicer to gloss over the hardships. Better to focus on all that’s been achieved rather than reckon with the blood that was shed along the way. We know this intimately as a congregation that was created by abolitionists who left behind everything they knew to come to Kansas Territory seeking freedom for enslaved Black Americans. But at the very same time, they were seemingly oblivious that they were settling upon a land that was already home to Native people who had been living here for centuries. Ad astra for who, exactly? And which people pay the heaviest price when we seek the stars through difficulties? 

Though our state’s history is a mixed bag when it comes to “loving every single other,” it does seem they got it right when they picked our motto. “To the stars through difficulties” is something that people of every race, gender, creed, nationality, and ability can identify with. Because figuring out how to keep putting one foot in front of the other when the going gets tough is something deeply human. We all have to learn to persevere through challenges. 

It turns out that those born into privilege are actually at a disadvantage when it comes to mastering the art of perseverance. Those who occupy spaces of power in our society are often all-too-unaware of their vulnerabilities. The more privilege you have, the less likely you are to have opportunities to overcome challenges. And when you miss out on all those daily chances to rub against friction, you don’t build up callouses. You don’t have a chance to work your muscles and get strong. And you certainly don’t understand your human vulnerability in any real way. All of this “ease” makes the privileged, protected ones in our world ill-prepared for going to the stars. Unless, of course, the ticket is an all-inclusive one on a Space X rocket. But if the trip requires more than swiping a credit card and buckling up for the ride? Forget it. Challenges become overwhelming for those who have no practice as persevering through difficulties. 

Ta-Nehisi Coates says this far more eloquently than I ever could. In Between the World and Me, his letter to his son, Coates says this about growing up Black in America:

“I am sorry that I cannot make it okay. I am sorry that I cannot save you— but not that sorry. Part of me thinks that your very vulnerability brings you closer to the meaning of life, just as for others, the quest to believe oneself white divides them from it. The fact is that despite their dreams, their lives are also not inviolable. When their own vulnerability becomes real—when the police decide that tactics intended for the ghetto should enjoy wider usage, when their armed society shoots down their children, when nature sends hurricanes against their cities—they are shocked in a way that those of us who were born and bred to understand cause and effect can never be. And I would not have you live like them. You have been cast into a race in which the wind is always at your face and the hounds are always at your heels. And to varying degrees this is true of all life. The difference is that you do not have the privilege of living in ignorance of this essential fact.” [2]

Jesus spoke as one who understood the realities Coates is communicating to his son. 

Separated by centuries, they both know what it’s like to live as oppressed people. Both are intimately familiar with the vulnerabilities inherent in the human condition. And both have decided to live as free people - people who can aspire to the stars, even though they know full-well the difficulties that lie on the path ahead. 

Jesus uses his Sermon on the Mount to lay out for his disciples some of his most important teachings. It’s where we learn that the poor and peacekeepers are blessed. It’s also where Jesus teaches us how to pray. And in today’s passage from that sermon, we hear Jesus remind his disciples to keep their eyes fixed on the skies above. 

He says ““Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven… where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

When Jesus speaks of heaven, he doesn’t seem to be speaking of an afterlife. He uses the Greek word ouranos (ooh-rah-NAHS) quite often. But that word (which is translated as “heaven” in our English Bibles) didn’t have the same connotations in Jesus’s time and place. Instead, it’s probably better translated as “the skies” - that great expanse that extends above us. Home to the sun, moon, stars, birds, clouds, thunder and rain. And, in Jesus’s mind, the place where God dwells. Perhaps not in a physical way, but in a tangible way, nonetheless. Because if we experience God as an unseen force, a Spirit of love, something we cannot touch with our hands, then what better place for God to call home than the skies above, which were - for those in Jesus’s time - beyond our reach? 

There’s something about looking up at the sky - whether it’s fluffy white clouds floating past, or an ominous wall of rain, or the twinkling stars at night - that puts things in perspective as a human. Helps us realize that we are part of something much bigger than what we can see with our eyes and touch with our hands. The vastness of the ouranos - the skies - catches our breath as we realize we are small creatures spinning on a big planet, aloft in a galaxy that’s flying through the universe. If you pause long enough while staring up at the sky you might start to feel your mind spin out as reality feels harder to grasp. It’s a disorienting feeling, staring up at that vast unknown, isn’t it? 

Perhaps this is why Jesus cautions us to never lose sight of the skies above. Don’t get so focused on the solid ground below you that you forget what’s overhead. Don’t keep all of your treasures down here on Earth where they’re prone to get spoiled by rust or pests. Always make sure there’s at least a fraction of what you love the most that’s off there in that unreachable place. A portion of what you value most that can’t be destroyed by anything in the 24-hour news cycle. A bit of you that knows you’re free no matter what the empire says. A tiny corner of your soul that flies above, unbothered, in the realm of God. 

Because at the end of the day, we humans are rooted here on earth but also meant to fly high into the heavens with God. We carry within us that divine spark of Love that allows us to transcend the trials and tribulations that may befall us here on Earth. We are not trapped in our Earthly bodies, but somehow able to connect beyond time and space to those who came before us and those who will come after. Perhaps when Jesus ascended at the end of his time on Earth it wasn’t so we would “ooh and ahh” at how special he was. Perhaps it was meant to be a reminder to us that we, too, belong at home with God - in the great expanse beyond what we can see and touch. 

Perhaps it was a reminder that if we hold too tightly to the concrete things in front of us, we’ll miss the invitation to fly to the stars, even through the greatest of difficulties. If we focus solely on the daily grind, carefully constructing pockets of safety for our treasures, we may miss the opportunity to soar beyond the confines of our anxiety. 

Jesus invites us to allow our hearts to soar, even when it feels impossible. 

God who dwells in the skies, beyond all knowing, 

We call upon your name as holy. 

May your realm come to us here on earth, just as it is in your home, beyond. 

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, 

as we forgive our debtors.

Lead us not into temptation 

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, 

and the power,

and the glory, forever. Amen.

NOTES

[1] https://www.ksgenweb.org/archives/wyandott/history/1911/volume1/146.html 

[2 Coates, Ta-Nehisi. Between the World and Me.