When you come to the end of anything, you find yourself thinking about the beginning. It’s graduation season for grade schools, which means tissue sales are skyrocketing as parents watch their teenagers cross a stage in cap and gown. The sound of sniffles fills the room, and among the many memories rushing to mind, those parents are almost certainly reminiscing about the beginning as they play witness the end. They’re thinking about that first little backpack, that first school play, that first real friend, that first basket in the ball game. They’re remembering their little girl or boy clinging to their leg on day one of kindergarten. Only now that child is no longer holding their leg, but a graduation certificate or maybe a steering wheel. Like a movie montage, in flood the memories while the tears trickle out.

Come to the end of anything and you’ll find yourself thinking about the beginning. After five years we’ve come to the end of the Gospel of Luke. Some of us have been along for the ride the whole time, while others of us have recently joined along the way. Last week we formally concluded our study of the text by looking at Jesus’ ascension, so today we’re taking a breath to allow the message and the meaning of Luke’s gospel settle in us.

The Gospel of Luke is an ancient biography of Jesus. A biography tells us not only what someone did with their life, but what they were like. It shows us their character. Over the centuries each of the four gospels have been partnered with a symbol to represent some of their essence. Matthew’s gospel is symbolized by a man. Mark is symbolized by a lion. John is symbolized by an eagle. And the Gospel of Luke is symbolized by an ox. The ox stands for the sacrifice, the service, the strength of Jesus depicted throughout this gospel.

With the Gospel of Luke’s detailed and drawn-out Passion narrative (the telling of Jesus’ arrest, trial and death), the sacrificial animal of an ox reminds us of Jesus’ self-giving death for all people. Also, as a beast of burden, in the ox we see Jesus’ attitude of service, “I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22.27). And then of course there is the power evoked by the image of an ox, as Luke’s gospel depicts Jesus with great strength and authority. Combining all three of these impressions (sacrifice, service, strength) we’re given a flavour of Jesus in this gospel. God among us is strong, God among us service-oriented, and God among us is selfgiving, even self-sacrificing. If you want to know what God is like, look no further than Jesus. 

Here we are at the end of this biography of Jesus. What should we do when we come to the end of a road like this? Do we survey the entire book again, an academic flyover as if cramming for a test? Do we pick and choose highlights or main themes to carry forward? It’s very tempting to utter the words “in summery”, but how do you summarize Jesus in a gospel so detailed and dramatic? There’ll be no test cramming today beyond what we’ve already noted.

Instead, I invite us to focus on two words in our time together: consolidation and worship.

Consolidation. A few months ago, I was sitting with my therapist for a check in, and part of our discussion surrounded my experience of grief as I’d lost a close friend last year. “It sounds like,” he said at one point, “it’s time for you to consolidate your learning.” By that he meant it was time to take all I had received in that good friendship, and not only appreciate it, but consolidate what I had been given through it. To reflect and draw together everything I could, with the goal of then putting those experiences and lessons to use. In essence, he was sitting there in front of me, gently asking, “so, what?” What do you want to do with what you learned in that friendship? What will it translate to in the rest of your life? It’s time to consolidate your learning.

Today, I’d invite us to do the same. We’ve read and discussed a great deal about Jesus together through this gospel. We may have even forgotten more than we remember. Now it’s time draw together everything we can recall, and ask, with the help of the Holy Spirit – so, what? What has been the revelation? What lessons have we learned? How have we been freed, healed, comforted, challenged? And not just what have we learned, but who have been introduced or re-introduced to? What do we do with Jesus now? So, what?

As I said, come to the end of anything and you’ll find yourself thinking about the beginning. Beginnings and endings are very important. They tell us what to pay attention to and what to carry forward. This is how the Gospel of Luke begins:

“…I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, 4 so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.“

Recently I heard someone sum up our relationship to the Bible well: The Bible may not have been written to you at first, but it has been written for you. As we’ve just read, Luke’s gospel was written to a household in the early church. The only name we have attached is Theophilus, who possibly funded the project. And as the author says from the off, it was written so that Jesus’ biography might be accessed with clarity and integrity. As a historian, Luke tells his first audience he’s gone to significant lengths to take what was handed on to them and to investigate further, “so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught”. And this work has been preserved over two millennia, so that, now handed to us, we read this gospel order to know the certainty of the things that we have been taught about Jesus. Luke’s gospel was written to build confidence in believers, so that that they might trust what they had heard about Jesus.

We’ve shared over again in our study of this gospel that this biography of Jesus is no fairy tale, no story among stories. The gospels are reliable history, and Jesus was the most influential human being to ever walk the earth. The gospels insist this is the case because Jesus was not only human, but God among us. His brief life on earth made such a seismic impact we can hardly trace the ripple effects. Jesus has become so pervasive and foundational that we take his influence for granted. Two millennia after Luke was helping early believers become confident in what they’d heard about Jesus, the proof is now in the pudding, even acknowledged by those who’d not identify as believers.

“I am a historian, I am not a believer, but I must confess as a historian that this penniless preacher from Nazareth is irrevocably the very center of history. Jesus Christ is easily the most dominant figure in all history.”

“I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you,…, 4 so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.”

Whatever lessons or impressions we have received from our time in Luke’s gospel, let’s again be clear: the writer’s purpose was to chronicle Jesus, the unparalleled change agent in history. All this was not written first to us, but has been written for us, so that we now also can be clear and confident in Jesus.

That is the beginning. And this, as we heard earlier, is the ending. After his death and resurrection, Jesus stood among his very first followers and said:

“49 I am going to send you what my Father has promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” 50 When he had led them out to the vicinity of Bethany, he lifted up his hands and blessed them. 51 While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. 52 Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. 53 And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.“

That is the ending of Luke’s gospel. But it doesn’t really feel like just an ending, does it? That’s because it is also a kind of beginning.

It’s not often, but every now and then a good TV show is made. A world is built, a tone is set, a plot emerges, characters are introduced and developed. And if all those things work together well enough, you should come to the end of that show and have a sense of satisfaction. The story arcs merged, the characters had experiences with which you could relate, the setting felt believable enough to draw you in. At the end of that show you feel a sense of satisfaction. Ah, that was a good story!

But if it’s a really good TV show, you won’t only be satisfied but left wanting more. Of course you may watch it all over again to pick up things you missed the first time, but you’ll also probably be left asking the question: when do we get season two?!

Well, in case you didn’t know, season two, from the ancient writer Luke, has already been released. It’s called the Book of Acts. And it picks up where we’re leaving off. Jesus’ disciples, waiting for what was promised – to be clothed with power from on high. The story follows Jesus’ friends as they receive his Spirit and work out God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. Season two is wild. And it’s also no fairy tale, just as dramatic and detailed as season one, if not more so. It’s the history of the first followers of Jesus learning how to be a community, both succeeding and failing, and fanning out all over the place inviting everyone into this new community. And Jesus is no less present in the book of Acts. In fact his presence is spilling over in the lives of all who trust him, by the power of his Holy Spirit.

So here’s a bit of an update. After a break this summer, in the early fall we’ll pick up where we left off, stepping into the first few chapters of the Book of Acts together. We’re looking forward to season two this fall.

But let’s stretch the picture a little further. Part of the message in both Luke’s gospel and his second volume, The Book of Acts, is that the story doesn’t appear to have a predictable ending. In fact, it turns out that the “show” has been going for quite some time now. Acts may be season two, but there were follow up seasons after that. Year after year, century after century, right up until this very moment. The story is still focused on the main character, Jesus, but now you and I are caught up in that story. This is the continuation of God’s history rolling on into our literal present.

So even as we ask, “What happens next?” in season two, let’s remember that following Jesus is not at all like sitting on the couch with a remote, eating popcorn. We don’t passively watch. The answer to “what happens next” is absolutely written down for us in Scripture to observe, but that answer to the question is also being written through our lives now. And with our willingness, our devotion to Jesus, the Lord is putting pen to paper today, through his Spirit among us. 

So this Gospel of Luke may not have been written to us at first, but it has been written for us. It has been written to help us to see the real God in and through Jesus, and to find great confidence in him through every season of life. It has been written for us, not only to learn about Jesus, but direct us into the experience a like walking in his Spirit together in community.

You and I are as much a continuation of Jesus’ story as anyone in history. So, it’s time to consolidate our learning. It’s time to ask “so, what”? What are we going to do with Jesus? 

That leads us to the second word we introduced earlier: worship.

“51 While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven. 52 Then they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy. 53 And they stayed continually at the temple, praising God.“

Folks we can’t come to the end of Luke’s gospel and not say it plainly. Jesus isn’t just interested in church attendance for its own sake. He’s not interested in our academic or arms-length approach. He isn’t just interested in the bits and pieces of our lives we’re willing to share on occasion. He loves his creation, you and I, beyond imagination. That might make us feel a little uncomfortable. He spelled it out clearly by the sign language of his cross. He wants us all, and he wants it all. “Between stimulus and response there is a space.” writes neurologist and psychologist Victor Frankl, “In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

Jesus’ first followers, his friends, they didn’t categorized him as a great teacher, or prophet, or king, though he was all those things. They categorized and responded to him, with worship. Which is to say they devoted themselves to him, so that he would love and rule over them as their very Creator. Because he was.

Worship is not just singing or other forms of expression. Worship is a response of devotion. Worship is our love. Worship is our trust. Worship is strength and gifts submitted.

Worship is our dependence confessed. Worship is the natural response of consolidating our learning about Jesus.

Today we’re invited to consider the stimulus of Jesus and the opportunity of response. To see Jesus clearly, self-giving God among us, and to lay the full weight of our trust on him. To give him everything. The good stuff, the stuff we’re ashamed of. We’re inviting you today to worship the real God, not the false gods of self or sex or stuff, but Jesus, God in high definition.

One more reading from this gospel, our last together. Luke chapter 18:

“15 People were also bringing babies to Jesus for him to place his hands on them. When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them. 16 But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. 17 Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18)

Come to the end of anything and you’ll find yourself thinking about the beginning. There is no graduation from the school of Jesus. We do not age out, because with Jesus it’s the opposite. We must grow young. We must become like those little children brought to him. So today is not the end, it’s the opportunity for new beginning.

Trust him like the little child that you are, because even now the kingdom of God is among you (Luke 17.21).