What's Your Story | All That He Began To Do

The former account I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began to do and teach, until the day in which He was taken up, after He through the Holy Spirit had given commandments to the apostles whom He had chosen, to whom He also presented Himself alive after His suffering by many infallible proofs, being seen by them during forty days and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. (Acts 1:1-3)

Names like Peter, James, and John would be forgotten to history—if their stories had never met the story of Jesus.

The Story Is Not Over

Luke's second work opens by referring to his first, the Gospel according to Luke. He calls those twenty-four chapters a testament of "all that Jesus began to do and to teach." Think about that. The Gospels are just the beginning.

At the front of the New Testament we have four Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Three of them, the synoptics, give a synopsis of Jesus's life, ministry, death, burial, and resurrection. John is structured differently, built around seven "I am" sayings and seven miracles. But they all focus on the same subject, the same individual. And according to Luke, those accounts of the life, ministry, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus are only "all that Jesus began to do." The book of Acts is the continuation.

Many people get hung up here, because they treat the Gospels as a closed story with a beginning, middle, and end—the birth, the ministry, the miracles, the trial, the crucifixion, the resurrection—and then it's over. A good story in the good book. Even many Christians view the work of Jesus as something done entirely in the past. But Luke ends his Gospel with the ascension, restates it in Acts 1, and then shows that the movement of the church is the rest of the work Jesus began to do.

So the story of Jesus is not finished. The history of the church is the continuation. The Gospels are like the trailer to a film—an extended introduction, the prologue to an amazing epic. Even though Jesus has ascended and is seated at the right hand of glory, His work on earth is not done. He is still at work in the world, still furthering His story through history.

The Body of Christ, Filled With His Spirit

The New Testament writers call the followers of Jesus "the people of God." One writer says that once we were not a people, but now by God's mercy we have been made a people. They also call us "the body of Christ." Paul tells the Corinthians that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit, and tells the Colossians that Christ dwells in us.

This wasn't only Paul's teaching. Before the cross, in John 13 through 16, Jesus prepared His disciples: "I am going away, but the Holy Spirit is going to come." After His resurrection He appeared to them, breathed on them, and said, "Receive ye the Holy Spirit." In Acts 1 He tells them to wait in Jerusalem for the promise of the Father, for power when the Holy Spirit comes. And on the day of Pentecost in Acts 2, the Spirit was poured out on 120 followers, igniting the church to go forth in the power and authority of Jesus, continuing His work.

So it is right that Luke writes to Theophilus—a name meaning "lover of God"—that this is the continuation of the story. The Gospels reveal what God can do on the earth; Acts begins to reveal what Jesus desires to do in and through His people. The book is called the Acts of the Apostles, but it should really be called the Acts of Jesus by His Holy Spirit through His people.

The Forgotten Ones

When you read Acts, it focuses on only a few people God used powerfully: Peter, James, Stephen, Philip, Barnabas, and ultimately Paul, who takes the center stage for about two-thirds of the book. But there are many names never mentioned. Nothing is said of Andrew, Peter's brother. Nothing of Thomas beyond his doubting. Nothing of Bartholomew, Simon the Zealot, Matthew, Thaddeus, or James the son of Alphaeus.

Their stories are no less important; they simply aren't recorded. A little is peppered through early Christian history. Thomas, for instance, is said to have carried the gospel far east, the first to reach the western coasts of India—there are still people in southwest India who trace their faith back to him. But because their stories are lost to us, we begin to think of them as lesser, less significant. Sadly, history even labels some of them "the less"—James the less. What a bummer, like being called a minor prophet. (And the only thing distinguishing a major prophet from a minor one is wordiness—ever read the first four chapters of Ezekiel?)

But nothing could be further from the truth. Their stories are not insignificant, even if no history records them.

Our Significance Is Found in His Greatness

The unfortunate reality is that many of us feel our own lives have little significance—that we'll leave very little enduring mark on this world. Yet within us is a desire to make a name for ourselves. We see it early in Genesis with Nimrod and his people who wanted to build a name. But after a person dies, very few are remembered even 100 or 200 years later.

Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple, said we are here to "put a dent in the universe." His desire was to change the world. But fifty years from now other great products and companies will come, and his name will be remembered by relatively few. Perhaps a street or school will bear his name—and people will ask, "Who was that guy?" We drive down streets named after historical people we know nothing about.

So we conclude our lives are of little significance—and we conclude the same of those whose stories aren't expounded in Scripture. We will think that, until we understand this: our significance is found in His greatness, and not in our own. Today people chase likes and YouTube hits to make a name, but it's fleeting. What makes us remember James, John, Peter, or Paul is that Jesus came into their lives and transformed them.

When Your Story Meets His Story

When the storyline of your life meets the storyline of Christ—the gospel—from that point forward your life becomes a part of history. And I mean His story. A history bigger and greater than any in this world, written not in books and scrolls or in the libraries of this world, but in eternity, kept with God in heaven.

Consider Peter. That's not even his real name—you'd know him only as Simon, son of Jonah, working in his father's fishing business in Galilee, if Jesus hadn't begun calling him Peter. Apart from Jesus he wouldn't have mattered in history one lick.

Consider John, who wrote more of the New Testament than anyone but Paul. Apart from Jesus he's just another fisherman, brother of James, working for Zebedee. (Jesus had a tender spot for fishermen.) And remember, though we call it the Sea of Galilee, it's a lake—if you're Jesus you can walk across it in a night. These were fishermen on a lake in the Middle East, and apart from Jesus they were nobodies.

Matthew wasn't even called Matthew; he was Levi, a tax collector with a little office outside Capernaum. Paul wasn't Paul; he was Saul, a zealous Pharisee. Apart from Jesus, these men were nobodies. Then one day Jesus crossed their paths, their story met His story, and they stepped into a much bigger story—into history.

Three Ordinary Lives Transformed

Simon, son of Jonah, had a mundane existence. Like most in that day, he went into the family business—fishing. Every night he and Andrew would go out and fish; every morning they'd return, clean and mend nets, and sell the catch. Six days a week, the same cycle. He would have lived and died, handed the business to his children, and a few generations later no one would know who Simon was.

But Luke 5 records something interesting. A traveling rabbi from Nazareth came to Capernaum, followed by a multitude because of news of his healings. Simon was cleaning his nets when Jesus asked to preach from his boat. Afterward Jesus said, "Let's go fishing." Simon protested—you don't fish during the day, preacher—but obeyed, and they pulled in a great catch. Peter fell down, "I'm unworthy to be in your presence," and Jesus said, "You'll see greater things than this. I'm going to make you a fisher of men." His story met Jesus's story, and he became part of history.

Levi also lived in Capernaum—a tax collector, hated, looked down upon, considered a traitor and a sinner because he worked for Rome. As told in Mark 2, a multitude surrounded Jesus, and in their midst Jesus looked at Levi and said, "Follow me." Levi said, "Okay," and stepped into history. God used him to pen the Gospel according to Matthew, used worldwide ever since.

Saul was a Roman-born Jew, son and grandson of Pharisees, raised in Jerusalem under teachers like Gamaliel. He was so zealous for the faith of his fathers, as he writes in Galatians 1:14, that he excelled above his contemporaries. When prominent Jews began following the Nazarene who had been crucified and raised, Saul persecuted them—even after Gamaliel warned, "Don't fight against this, lest you fight against God." Then on the road to Damascus (Acts 9) the risen Jesus appeared to him. Saul's story met Jesus's story, and he became Paul the apostle.

It's His Story, Not Ours

When Peter preached in Acts 2 and 3,000 believed, it wasn't his ingenuity—it was God working through him. When he raised Tabitha in Joppa, it wasn't his skill as a healer. When he preached in Cornelius's house and Gentiles came to faith, it wasn't because Peter was amazing—it's because Jesus was working through him.

When Matthew recorded the Sermon on the Mount and the Olivet Discourse, it was by God's inspiration, not his own genius. When Paul planted churches across Galatia, Macedonia, Asia, and Greece, when he cast the demon out of the slave girl in Philippi, when he preached before Felix, Festus, Agrippa, and ultimately Caesar Nero—it was God opening doors and working through him. It's His story, not ours. Our significance is found in His greatness.

Ever since Acts 2 and the outpouring of the Spirit, billions of monotonous, seemingly uninteresting lives over 2,000 years have come in contact with the storyline of Jesus, with the gospel—and in that moment their stories take a turn. That becomes the defining moment.

I like to ask people, "What's your story?" Everyone has a storyline, and they always default to the same one—if you've known them long, you can mouth the words along with them. But when your story comes in contact with the story of Christ, everything before and after that point becomes part of His story. He rescues you from your past failures and reorients your life. Now your story becomes a God-glorifying story—a testament to how powerful and awesome He is, not how amazing you are.

If you keep trying to make your story about how awesome you are, it lasts maybe until you die, and a generation or two later it's forgotten. But when you recognize that His story is greater, and you come in line with it, everything changes.

Live as Though Your Life Has Purpose

What does this mean for us? It means that, though you may feel your life will have little impact, you truly have significance and purpose. So we need to live as though our life has purpose and significance—because it does. If your story has come in contact with His, your story is now part of His, and its purpose is to make Him great. That significance extends beyond this life into eternity, because He is eternal.

If you live your whole life trying to make your story about how great you are, maybe a few people will remember you. But if your story is aligned with His to make Him great, it will continue on into eternity. The chief end of man is the glory of God. The reason He created you is to bring glory to Himself, just as a painter paints to display his ability.

This truth affects every aspect of your life. Consider reality television—which we all know is genuinely real. My wife and I were in Santa Barbara once and saw a reality show being filmed on the wharf: two people on a "date," surrounded by dozens of crew with boom mics, cameras, and lights. If you had a camera crew following you from the moment you woke until you slept, you couldn't help but live for the audience, to perform, to make your life seem more interesting. Most lives aren't that interesting—even reality stars'. They take five interesting moments from a week, script them, and call it real.

A Great Cloud of Witnesses

The reality is, we do have an audience watching us. Hebrews 12:1 says:

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which does so easily ensnare us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

The author knew there are witnesses watching. That might freak you out—and that may be a good thing. If you knew you had a great cloud of witnesses watching, it would alter how you live, especially knowing one of those witnesses is Jesus, and that it is being recorded.

So, what's your story? If your story is not aligned with Jesus's story, then you're living for yourself—a temporal existence lost at death. But if your story is lived for His glory, to show His greatness, it extends on through eternity. There may never be a biography or film made about you in this world—but I can guarantee it is recorded in eternity. Jesus reminds us of the last words recorded by Matthew the tax collector:

All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:18-20)

In essence, Jesus says, "I am passing My work to you. By My authority and power you will continue the work until the end." Two angels told the disciples in Acts 1 that He would come again in like manner as He ascended. Between those two events—His ascension and His return—Jesus is still at work in the world through His people, through ordinary people, just as He was with Simon the fisherman.

The book of Acts continues the acts of God working through His people for 2,000 years. It may be that your life has been aligned with His story so that it shows forth His greatness. If not, you're just living for yourself—a temporal, vain, fleeting life, the kind Solomon laments in Ecclesiastes.

Closing Prayer

Lord, Your story is greater than anything we could ever come up with or fabricate. Your story is so glorious, and how awesome it is to be a part of it. You've invited us into that grand history, so that through our failures and Your glory to rescue, forgive, and transform us, we can show how awesome and powerful and amazing You are.

I pray that my life and the lives of my brothers and sisters here this morning would be a testament to how glorious You are. Just like Simon, Andrew, John, James, Saul, and Levi—men we would never have heard of unless You had come into their lives—may our lives be accentuated by the fact that You have come into ours, that our story has met Your story, and You've given us purpose and significance far greater than anything we could produce, something the atheist does not have.

If there is anyone here who has been living for their own glory, trying to write their own story to be remembered, to put a dent in the universe, I pray they would recognize that their true significance is found only in Your greatness. Draw them by Your Spirit, that they would yield themselves to You. We pray in Jesus's name. Amen.