The One Thing

Matthew 28:16-20

June 1, 2025 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Sometimes it’s good to pause, or even to stop, for a moment and figure out where you’re going and what you’re about. GPS has made adjusting your route as you travel into the norm, but sometimes it’s still good to stop long enough to determine that you’re still on the road you want to be on. In just a few weeks, it will be ten years since I became your pastor here, and that seems like a good moment (a nice, round number) to remember and remind ourselves where we are and why we are here. Why does Mount Pleasant exist? What is our purpose? It’s not just to sit here on the top of this hill and enjoy each other’s company. It’s not just to have potlucks and parties. And it’s not just to have all of our own preferences and desires taken care of. No, because we are a church, not a country club or a social organization, we have a calling, a mission that is bigger than any of us. It’s not a mission that we created in a secret committee meeting somewhere; in fact, our mission goes back to Jesus himself, standing on a mountain in Galilee, after the resurrection. So for most of this month, I want us to remember what our mission is and recommit ourselves to the calling that Jesus himself gave in some of his final words spoken on earth.

Sometimes we use words or phrases in the church that we think are clear but really are not. I’ve tackled some of these in the Bible Breakdown class this spring, but one we didn’t cover is what we call “The Great Commission.” Some of us have grown up with that idea and others are of us have no idea what commission we’re talking about or why it’s so great. Matthew says even those who heard it first were unsure what to make of it. As Matthew tells it, Jesus has been raised from the dead, and he has appeared to a group of women near the tomb. The other Gospels tell us about other appearances, but in Matthew’s telling of the story, Jesus directs his followers to a certain mountain in Galilee, several days’ walk away from Jerusalem. Tradition usually points to Mount Hermon, which is in the northern part of Galilee and is the highest point in the area. But the first time I climbed Mount Arbel, overlooking the town of Magdala on the Sea of Galilee, I became convinced that this was where Jesus gave this commission, largely because from the top of that small mountain you can see pretty much everywhere Jesus taught and healed and preached in Galilee. In my mind, his heart would have wanted to take in a view of that beautiful area one more time. But we don’t know for sure, and Matthew doesn’t seem to think it’s important for us to know (cf. Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pg. 250; McKnight, Matthew, pg. 415). He just tells us Jesus directed them to a mountain, and despite the disciples’ tendency to mess things up, this is a command they get right.

So they gather on the mountain, and when Jesus shows up, Matthew says “they worshiped him; but some doubted” (28:17). I personally love that Matthew includes that little detail. Here at the end, with the literal resurrected Jesus standing in front of them, there were still some of the original disciples who doubted. Matthew doesn’t say what they were doubting, but the word he uses literally means “to be of two minds,” so these guys wanted to believe, but their rational minds questioned or their logical thinking said dead men don’t rise or something else wouldn’t let them believe (cf. McKnight 415). Even after all they’ve seen, they still wondered and questioned, but here’s the thing: doubt didn’t keep them away from Jesus. They still showed up and whatever was stirring in their minds, Jesus still welcomed them and he still wanted them and he still commissioned them. And more than that, he deals with their doubt by giving them an assignment (Davis, Come Alive: Matthew, pg. 239). Do you know what that means? Even if you doubt or have questions or don’t “feel” like a disciple right this moment, he still welcomes you and he still wants you—and he still commissions you. You don’t have to have it all figured out for Jesus to send you and use you in his mission.

Because it is his mission. As I said a moment ago, what we’re called to is not our creation. It’s his mission, rooted in his authority. Without him, there’s no point in our gathering here or doing much of anything in the world. The first thing he tells these disciples is that he has been given all authority in heaven and on earth (28:18). “Therefore…” (28:19). What he says next is rooted in his authority. He will work through us but ultimately he is the one who will make it happen (cf. Rainer, Pray & Go, pg. 140).

So here’s a quiz for you: what is the actual commission? In other words, what is it we’re supposed to do? In the English translation it looks like there are four verbs when actually there is only one. So, what is it? Most people say it’s “Go,” and that would be a good guess, but that’s not right. The verb in this commission is “make disciples.” Okay, well for your grammarians out there, technically the verb is “make” and the object is “disciples,” but the commission, what Jesus tells us to do, is to “make disciples” (cf. McKnight 416). A lot of times people refer to this passage to try to say we need to go to the street corners and preach about Jesus, to win converts, to evangelize. And that’s important; we want people to believe in Jesus and trust him for their salvation, absolutely. Evangelism is part of it, but far too many people stop there when the actual command from Jesus is not to make converts but to make disciples (cf. VanderLaan, In the Dust of the Rabbi, pg. 11). So that begs the question: what is a disciple? A disciple is someone who follows Jesus so closely that “they begin to resemble him in attitude and action alike” (Davis 240). In fact, in ancient times, a disciples was  supposed to follow the rabbi, the teacher, so closely that you had his dust on your shoes. Being a disciples is rooted in “a living relationship with Jesus Christ” (Davis 240). They don’t just know about Jesus; they are learning to know Jesus. When we stop too soon, we tend to make church attenders rather than disciples. Jesus doesn’t just want more people in the pews; he wants more followers in the flock. He wants to know you and be with you; we’ll come back to that in a few moments.

So the commission is to make disciples, and in this short sermon to his followers, he tells them (and us) how to do that. Three words: go, baptize, teach. Go. Yes, there is a component of “going” in this commission, but this doesn’t mean we’re all called to move overseas and become missionaries. Some are, and I am thankful for all those who answer God’s call to serve in lands that are not their own. But did you know that today the church in places like Africa are sending missionaries to us? “They’ve heard how our culture resists and resents the gospel, and so they’re sending pastors and teachers and tentmakers to turn us back around” (Davis 239). God bless them for “going!” That’s at least part of what Jesus had in mind, but the word he uses here really means “as you go,” or even “as you continuously go” (Rainer 141). Wherever you go, in whatever work or place you find yourself, as you go each and every day, that’s the place where God has called you to make disciples. Mothers and fathers who stay at home to care for children, that’s your disciple making venue. People in corporate offices and classrooms and retail outlets, that’s your disciple making venue. Wherever Jesus sends you, go making disciples. We don’t get out of this commission just because we’re not called to a strange land far away. Everyone is called, wherever you go each day.

But I think this little word also has something to say to the church. As a body, we’re called to “go.” It’s far too easy to become content in our building, sitting here and waiting for people to come to us. A few generations ago, that was effective but not anymore. We’re called to go, to be witnesses to our Savior wherever we find ourselves out in the community. Go and be a witness in the way you live and in the things you say out in the world. Go, don’t wait, don’t stay. Jesus says go. I am so glad that for the last several years our praise band has accepted the invitation to go to the Banks of the Wabash Festival and share the good news. Yes, most likely everyone in the audience there is already a Christian, but we have no idea what seeds were planted as the music was heard throughout the festival, as people walked by or as folks snacked on fair food. Go. Take every opportunity. We can’t truly make disciples of Jesus if we just sit here and don’t go.

Then there’s the second word: baptize. When we think of baptism, naturally water comes to mind. We baptize with water, whether through a few drops or dunking in a holy hot tub. And that should come to mind here, but let’s take it a step further. Baptism is the sign or symbol of initiation; it’s a sign of beginnings, of starting a relationship with God maybe even before we’re fully aware of what that’s all about. But baptism is never something we do; it’s something that is done to us, and not by a pastor or priest. Baptism is a gift from God; it’s a symbol of God welcoming you into his family. We submit to baptism; we don’t somehow earn or gain baptism. So when Jesus sends his disciples to baptize others, he’s calling them to welcome people into his kingdom, to invite them to become a part of the family. Baptism is simply the symbol that shows they are “in.” It’s not something we earn, not something we do, not something that saves us. It’s a sign that we belong to Jesus.

But here’s something I learned just this week: the roots of the word “baptize” also include the idea of being stained. You know, like staining something with dye. In other words, there’s this dimension to baptism in which you change “color,” you are different because of what has been done to you. We might say you change allegiances. Even more, a cloth can’t dye itself; someone has to put the dye on it for it to change. The same thing happens in baptism; at that moment, in some way, Jesus “stains” you with himself. You become his. He claims you and you emerge from the waters of baptism as something, someone new because he is with you. Again, more on that in a moment, but hold on to that idea of being stained. I’m still thinking about it, but I think it’s a powerful metaphor for what baptism is.

So, go, baptize. And teach. We go to reach people with the message of Jesus. We welcome them in through the act of baptism. And that’s where a lot of folks stop. We got them in, we can count them on our year-end reports, it’s all good. Jesus says no, there’s another dimension to making disciples. Teach them, he says, “to obey everything I have commanded you” (28:20). And what did he command the disciples? How would others know they were followers of Jesus? He had just told them a few days before this, right before the crucifixion and resurrection, on his last night with them, but you have to hop over to John’s Gospel to find it. On that night, when everything was on the line, Jesus told his followers this: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:34-35). Elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus had summed up “all the law and the prophets” by telling us we should love God and love others (Matthew 22:37-40), just like it says on our banners. I think Jesus was pretty consistent and pretty straight forward. How will they know we are his disciples? By our church attendance? By the number of small groups we are a part of? By the number of Bibles on our shelves? No, none of that. It’s when we love one another. When we agape one another. When we love without conditions, without strings, when we love each other the way God loves us.

And yes, that is a big expectation, but it wouldn’t be from God if it wasn’t big. So does God believe we can do it? Does God believe it’s possible? I don’t believe he would have told us to do it if it wasn’t possible. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, believed the same. He often talked about “Christian perfection” as something that was possible for us to live into. Now, by that he didn’t mean we would do everything perfectly. He talked about “perfection in love,” which is actually the same thing Jesus told his disciples to do—love God, love others with no strings attached. That’s how others will know we are his disciples; that’s what we are to teach them to do. “Teach them to obey everything I commanded you,” Jesus says. And he commanded us to love.

But how do you teach love? We “teach” it by example, the same way Jesus did. Late in the second century, a church father named Tertullian described what church was like in his time. After he describes the worship of the community and the ways they supply the needs of people, he turns to the real contrast between those inside the church and outside. Here are his words: “But it is mainly the deeds of a love so noble that lead many to put a brand upon us. See, they say, how they love one another, for they themselves are animated by mutual hatred. See, they say about us, how they are ready even to die for one another, for they themselves would sooner kill” (Tertullian, 197 AD). Love one another like Jesus loved us. “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). We learn love by being loved. We are taught how to love by being loved by the community. The world will know what love looks like when they see it through the church.

Go. Baptize. Teach. Make disciples. We have one thing to do: make disciples of Jesus who are learning to love like Jesus loved. One thing, and yet we get so wrapped up in so many other things, don’t we? We get wrapped up these days in politics, worrying whether or not our candidate will get elected or be able to enact certain policies. We get worked up about whether the church agrees completely with our perspectives or not. We get focused on things that don’t matter all that much, like coffee and carpets and music and facilities. And though those first disciples weren’t necessarily thinking about the same sorts of things we are, they were certainly focused on and worried about all what Jesus being back meant for their daily lives. Jesus calls them to the mountain and reminds them they have one thing to do: make disciples. That’s what will count for eternity. That’s what will matter in the long run.

Jesus has told us that he is giving his commission through and by his authority, which is all well and good. But the disciples had to be concerned as well and at least a little afraid. I mean, going to “all nations” is a bit overwhelming when most of them had never been very far from home. That’s why, at the very end of this commission, Jesus reminds them of a powerful promise. In fact, it’s a promise that is wrapped up in the very reason he came. Jesus was born in Bethlehem to teach us and remind us that God’s first desire, the desire he has had since the Garden of Eden and the very beginning, is to be with us. That’s what was happening in the Garden with Adam and Eve before they sinned—God walked in the garden with them. He only wants to be with his people, and so Jesus came to demonstrate that, to be Immanuel, “God with us.” And now he makes this promise to these frightened disciples: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (28:20). I love that word “always” because though we understand it as “all the time,” it really means “all ways.” Jesus is with us wherever we go, as we go, as we baptize, as we teach, he is with us. And he will continue to be with us in “all ways” to the end of time. There is never a moment, never an incident, never a second where he is not with you. He promised it. He only wants to be with you and because of that you are never alone (cf. Card 251-252). And because of that we never need to be afraid of making disciples. He is with us, and he wants to be with people who don’t yet know him as well, to the very end of the age.

On his last night with his disciples, Jesus gave them a practice that is meant as a reminder of his presence. In a somewhat confusing image, he said both that he would be with us in the bread and in the cup and that he would not take part in the fruit of the vine until he comes again. But however that works, this bread and this cup are meant to remind us of him. Every time we take it, he promises his presence in these elements. And so we trust that promise, and as we take the bread and dip it in the juice, we remember the one who will never leave us or forsake us, who will be with us to the end, who only longs to be with us. One thing: make disciples. Amen.