Scripture text: Matthew 28:16-20
The Christian faith is a two-sided thing, like a coin. The first side is “God’s story.” It is the story of the Holy Scriptures, the tale of God’s interaction with humankind. It begins at Creation, continues to the Fall, the Flood, and the Tower. It moves to Abraham and Isaac, Jacob and Joseph, the patriarchs and the promise that God made them that their family would be the origin of a blessing for all the world. It moves then to the Exodus, to David and the line of kings, to the prophets that sought to keep the people in line with God’s intent.
Beyond that, it moves to Jesus, his birth, his life, his teachings, his miracles, his death, and his resurrection. Then, its the story of the apostles, of Paul and his letters, John and his vision, all seeking to communicate, spread, and refine the faith as they understood it. All of it a story of the love between God and his people and lengths and the efforts that God has taken on to save us from ourselves and our sin. It is the story of the promise that God will take care of us, no matter what.
It is the story that is taught by the Church, that is proclaimed in Word and Sacrament, that is pondered upon in Bible Studies and prayed over in worship. It’s what brings us here to this place once each week to worship, to sing, and to pray.
The flip side of the faith is “our story.” Having heard the width and breadth of what God has done for us and for all of the human race, a question remains: “Now what?”
That’s a question each one of us is called to answer, to wrestle with, to struggle with. Each of us will find the specifics of its answer to be different, but one thing we will share in common. Our lives are to be lives of service and proclamation. We are called to be disciples and apostles of our God and our ultimate goal is to tell the world about our Jesus.
All too often, the people of the Church have made the mistake of presuming the faith is only one side or the other of this coin. We have all seen (or perhaps even been) Christians for whom their religious obligations are that single hour each week and nothing more. They come, they hear a nice message, they hear about how much God loves them, and they go home until next week. What they heard or experience may trigger good feelings or some other positive emotion, but in the end has little bearing on much of anything in their lives.
And then there are those Christians (and perhaps we’ve been these as well) who seem to think that God has really very little part, if any, in their salvation. They work to point of emotional and physical exhaustion to prove their moral and ethical purity to themselves and others. They seek to earn what they believe God will only give if they deserve it. They fret and fuss over the most minute of details, worry that the slightest deviation from the path will damn them to hell forever.
Neither of these responses is authentic to the faith we profess. Christianity is neither idle and empty spirituality, nor is it slavish legalism and tyrannical moralism. It is instead God’s work and our response.
The famous last sentences of Matthew’s Gospel account are proof of this. Here is, in some ways, the whole of that two-sided reality playing out. Easter has just happened. Christ is risen and he has come to the disciples. There are, among their number, questions, doubts, curiosity, confusion, and a lot of uncertainty. They are asking that question. “What now?”
Jesus gives them an answer. “Go!” Go into the whole world. Make disciples. Baptize them. Teach them. Tell them what you have discovered about me. Tell them what you’ve experienced. Tell them who I am and what I’ve done. Tell them in words and in deeds. Be my witnesses. Testify to the truth about me and tell everyone.
This is no small task. The world for those handful of disciples was a vast and terrifying place. It was the world of tyrannical Rome and its enemies and the alien lands beyond them. These were not diplomats nor even traders and merchants. These were not the type of men who would journey to distant lands as a matter of course. They were the sort of folks who would live their whole lives and die maybe five miles from where they were born. What Jesus tells them is terrifying.
So he reminds them once more of the promise. “I am with you always.” God’s story, our response. Remember the story and live the response.
As it was for them, so it is for us. Christ’s call to make disciples has been passed to us. And the world isn’t really all that much smaller. Sure, technology has made far-away lands easier to reach and easier to understand, but has not necessarily made them any less scary. And we have one drawback the disciples did not: we are spoiled. We are the last remnant of several generations where our society was largely Christian, where the Church was at least respected if not honored. And we’re not quite so sure of what to do with a secular world that is increasingly indifferent or in some rare cases hostile to us and our God.
But none of that changes our task. And none of that changes what Jesus said to encourage those first apostles. “I am with you always.” The world is going to do what it does. History has an ebb and flow to it and this is hardly the first nor will it be the last time when times are unfavorable for our message of hope. But none of that really changes anything.
God’s work and our response. That is the Christian life. God has done great things, he has brought us all to salvation through Christ. Now we are called to go and tell, to spread the good news of this story to all the world. God is with us and I don’t think there’s anything out there that’s really bigger than him. We have nothing to fear and a job to do. “Now what?” is our question. Christ has given us the answer: “Go and make disciples.” Amen.
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