My son, Jake, had a favorite cartoon: SpongeBob SquarePants. Since he has been on my mind (Jake, not SpongeBob), I thought I would write about him – SpongeBob and Jesus. If you told someone that a devotion on Acts 1:6–14 would begin with SpongeBob SquarePants, they might assume you’d lost your theological footing somewhere between Bikini Bottom and Bethany. But surprisingly, it works.

Acts 1:6–14 finds the disciples in a very specific emotional state: confusion mixed with expectation, excitement mixed with uncertainty. They ask Jesus, “Is this the time you’re going to restore the kingdom?” In modern terms, they’re basically asking, “So, are we there yet?” Jesus responds – not with a timeline, not with a PowerPoint, but with a promise: the Holy Spirit is coming, and they will be witnesses. Then he ascends, leaving them standing there staring at the sky like someone just took away their phone signal.
Enter SpongeBob SquarePants.
If anyone understands awkward waiting, it’s SpongeBob. Think about him standing at the Krusty Krab waiting for customers who may or may not ever show up, or patiently enduring Squidward’s emotional weather patterns, or waiting for Mr. Krabs to approve literally anything that costs more than three cents. SpongeBob is basically a professional at living in the “in-between.”
The disciples in Acts 1 are also in the in-between. Jesus has ascended, but the Holy Spirit hasn’t arrived yet. It’s the spiritual equivalent of ordering food, paying for it, and then being told, “It’ll come… eventually… just stay seated.” No tracking number. No estimated delivery time. Just wait.
So what do the disciples do? They don’t panic. They don’t scatter. They go back to Jerusalem and gather together in an upper room, lock the door, and pray. In other words, they form the first “waiting room church.”
Now imagine SpongeBob in that upper room. He would absolutely try to organize a group activity (and I probably would have, too.) “Okay everyone! While we wait for the Holy Spirit, let’s make friendship bracelets AND write encouraging psalms on sticky notes!” Matthew would ask how much it would cost. Peter would probably be slightly overwhelmed. John would quietly support it. Thomas would ask if there’s proof the Holy Spirit is actually coming. Judas (not Iscariot, the other one) would just nod slowly while holding a snack.

But here’s the deeper truth hiding under the nautical nonsense: waiting is not wasted time in God’s story.
Jesus doesn’t tell the disciples, “Go figure it out.” He tells them, “Wait and pray.” That combination is important. Waiting without prayer becomes anxiety. Waiting with prayer becomes preparation.
SpongeBob, for all his silliness, models something the disciples are also called into: faithful presence. He doesn’t always understand what’s happening in Bikini Bottom, but he shows up. He stays kind. He keeps going. He trusts that something good is still unfolding, even when it’s not obvious.
And that’s exactly what Acts 1 is about. The disciples are not abandoned in the waiting room. They are being prepared for power. The silence before Pentecost is not absence, but it’s formation.
So if you ever feel like you’re standing awkwardly in a sky-gazing moment, unsure what comes next, remember the disciples. And maybe even remember SpongeBob. Not because he has theological depth (though Bikini Bottom has its mysteries), but because he reminds us that even in ridiculous, in-between moments, you can still be faithful, still be together, still be ready.