You are welcome to reflect on this message

from The First Baptist Church in America pulpit

"One Gentile At A Time" (Matthew 28:16-20)

Dr. Dan Ivins, preaching

Matthew's Gospel begins with a genealogy of Jesus tracing his Hebrew ancestry back to Abraham and then describes his birth. He grew up totally in the Jewish tradition, in a nation dedicated to worshiping and serving the one true God. So these words were constantly in his ears and on his heart: "Hear, O Israel: the Lord your God is one God, and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength." Matthew ends his Gospel with this same Jesus, who has been crucified on a cross and raised from the dead, sending his little band of followers on a worldwide mission with these astonishing words:"Go ye therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

Now that's quite a story to be compressed down into one little book, even if it's backed up by three others. From an episode in the life of one tiny nation to the vision of a mission to all nations; from the story of a man who acted and spoke like one of this people's prophets, to a supernatural figure who founded a community committed to plunge the entire human family into a new way of life, symbolized by the waters of baptism.

The only problem with it is, we've become so familiar with it, that we're in danger of losing the magnitude of it. After some 2000 years of this, we've come to treat the "Great Commission" like the "Great Suggestion." Thus it suffers from the familiar liturgical language that describes "God in three persons, blessed trinity." The last word Jesus spoke to his followers was a commission, sending them to the ends of the earth. It's not just for Israel alone. It began in Jerusalem, yes. It continued throughout Judea and Samaria. Today, we're talking "to the uttermost parts of the earth. International missions.

Missions is the unfinished business of the Christian community. We're never done with it. Once we quit doing missions anywhere, local, national or international, we will cease from having a reason to exist. The church can't be the church without missions, because without missions, nobody becomes Christian and nobody stays Christian. The Christian faith isn't something people inherit biologically. You don't become a Christian by proxy and nobody automatically remains a Christian. The sharing of the Gospel is an on-going thing. It must be responded to by non-Christians and again and again by Christians. Unlike me, God has no grandchildren, only contemporary children, which means that the Christian movement has two great challenges: the maternity ward and the cemetery. The latter removes our elderly believers and the maternity ward keeps providing us with a new generation of prospects, but no one inherits the gospel through their genes, by osmosis or something. The spread of the gospel comes through missions; the preaching and teaching and ministering in the name of Jesus Christ. Men and women enter the church through baptism, not birth.

Our mission endeavors are rooted in the love of God for the world and in the authority of Jesus Christ. The real authority on the things of God. Who would argue with him? His words are truth, light, life; his moral stature is unique. His death was in obedience to God and also about his love for human beings. His resurrection from the grave shattered the chains of death. His kingdom is eternal. He is our authority behind all of our mission enterprises. His authority is total, absolute, and global.

He said to the early church, "Go!" And they went. How could they not? It was imperative for them to make disciples of all people, to teach them all things he has commanded, because he has all power and will be with us for all time.  But before they went, we read how Matthew tells us about a typically human thing happening:"When they saw him they worshiped him; but some doubted."

Isn't it striking that those who were standing directly in front of the risen Lord naturally worshiped him, but they also naturally doubted him as well? Hasn't this continued to be the typical human response to the risen Christ down through the ages? At one level, we believe the good news that Christ is alive. But at another level we struggle between our doubts and wonder how such a thing could happen, and, if the truth is in us, whether somebody could come back from the dead at all.

Thus, we stand--transparent before the One we seek to serve. Nothing is hidden from him. Those early followers up on top of that mountain in Galilee...I can imagine them saying something like, "It's just great Lord, that you're alive!" While under their breath saying, "I just can't believe this!" "Am I losing my mind?" Keep in mind that these were direct witnesses here, who are wavering while they worship, half-believing at best, whose faith in the resurrection was much like our own. It just goes to show you that whatever the resurrection of Jesus was like, it didn't generate perfect faith, even in those who experienced it firsthand. So it is not to angels, but to the worshiping/wavering community of disciples to whom the world mission is entrusted. The disciples on the Galilean mountain remind me of how we often "Say what we don't mean, and mean what we don't say, and believe every word of it." That is the kind of resurrection faith Matthew describes in our text and in our own experience. We respond with joy to the resurrection, yet we waver and doubt at the same time. 

We worship every Sunday, declaring "He is risen!" Luke even adds in his resurrection story, "They disbelieved for joy." The juxtaposition of disbelief with joy is mind boggling, but I think you know what he means. Because don't you and I live much of our lives out of the belief that WE are responsible for coming to terms with the powers of darkness at work in our world around us; even though we celebrate the resurrection of Christ most days and hope we believe in it the day we die?

See what those disciples were like, because they are a lot like us, both in their commission and in their response. But we must also see how the weak and wavering faith of Jesus' followers doesn't cause him to abandon them; nor does it disqualify us as disciples. No believer in Christ is flawless and God didn't give his commission to perfect saints. His struggling disciples would do just fine, who know all too well the great distance between the faith that is spoken and the disbelief that rumbles around inside their heads and hearts. It is to us to that Christ says: "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, mark them with baptism and mature them by teaching everything Jesus had said. And remember, I am with you until the end of the age."We sense the power of God at work in making disciples of all nations and feel the nurturing love of God when we hear, "I am with you always." What we fail to grasp is how this commission applies directly to our individual and our church's life.

There is a sense in which Jesus' challenge to "make disciples of all nations" is so vast and sweeping in its scope, that we might think it is impossible, so why even try. I mean we've got enough problems to deal with right here at home, so why bother with someplace like Iraq or Cuba? "How can I baptize a nation anyway?" Yes, we see the Great Commission as our marching orders, but I mean really, isn't it impossible? Or are we just saying what we don't mean, meaning what we don't say, and believing every word of it! You know the disciples must have felt overwhelmed by the enormity of what Jesus said to them. But they would have felt it for a different reason. They would have heard in that word translated "all nations," in the original Greek term "Ethne," which means "Gentiles." Foreigners. Strangers. Or to use an unpopular word these days, "immigrants." Those who are different from us.

The Gospel prods us out of the cozy, comfortable fellowship we enjoy with those whose values and beliefs and skin color are similar to our own. But this charge from our Lord is not to just take place on familiar ground, but the dangerous terrain of everyday life in a hostile world. I take it, that it is there that we are called to "make disciples of all Gentiles." Making disciples of all "Gentiles" is much more challenging than the general idea of making disciples of "all nations." That tempts us too much to excuse ourselves. But when you read it as "of all Gentiles," it becomes something that is done one Gentile at a time. Doing missions is never done on a national basis, but on a personal basis. Now we're giving out gold medals for all this mass evangelism/crusade stuff, but the heart of the Great Commission is to "make disciples of all Gentiles," one Gentile at a time.

For an example turn to the story of King David in the Old Testament, where there was an uprising within his own family as his son Absalom went to war against the king. See Old King David waiting at the city gate for news from a decisive battle nearby. When Joab arrived gloating, "We won!" "We won!" David didn't care about the outcome of the conflict. He didn't even want to read the casualty list. What he said was, "Is the young man Absalom safe?"

Local, national, or international missions are personal like that. It must be done one Gentile at a time. Jesus knows about the tremendous challenge facing his church. He sees our doubts, as well as our devotion. And that is why he didn't give us such a challenging task without also providing us the assurance that he would always be with us. He said, "I know it's tough, but I'll be with you till its over!"

Have you seen the new version of "Mission Impossible," starring Tom Cruise?  It was different from the old IMF sagas, in that they were a team. But in the latest version of Mission Impossible, Cruise pulls it off almost by himself. Our mission is possible not because we are evangelistic, but because we're on God's team, who has promised to be with us "until the end of the age." And the church, for good or ill, is his method of reaching the Gentile world with the Gospel. Therefore, our mission, dear church, "should you decide to take it," is "one Gentile at a time," to resolve to penetrate every geographical region, every ethnic group, every socio-economic class, and every ideological persuasion with the good news of a universal savior who transcends all of these cleavages and can unite our differences.

At The Meeting House we share our faith with people, not because they are conservative or liberal, straight or middle-class but because they are lost! We welcome folks from all across the world at our doorsteps, not because they are white or southern or Baptist or American, but because they believe! Where we can go, we share our faith. Where we can't go, we support those who are sent to mission areas. We can go through them in the form of our missionary giving--which I hope you will do today.

There's also an up-dated version of the story of the "3 Little Pigs," who moved from the woods to their comfortable home in the suburbs. Years went by since the wolf blew their house down and boredom set in and the pigs decided that love was what their lives were missing. So they tried to find out what love means. The first pig went to the university to learn all she could about love, but when she finished, she knew a lot about love but her life was still empty. The second pig went to church to listen to the preacher who was doing a series of sermons on the subject of "love." It was OK for awhile, but it didn't last and his life became pretty much as empty as it was before. The third little pig invited two other pig families to the house and they all began to share their life stories--about the wolf and brick houses. And this was so stimulating to the pigs that they met regularly to share their life's experiences. In time, they became a community, which cared about each other very deeply. One night, after the other pigs had left, the third little pig said to the other two, "Now I know what love is; for now I have experienced it."

Now I can't tell you who wrote that up-dated version of the "Three Little Pigs." But I'd be willing to bet that she was a Gentile!