Matthew 28:16-20
June 4, 2023
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20, NRSV)
The Great Commission.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit…”
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…”
There it is! Our call to evangelism! The thing we all love to do the most: Talk to people about Jesus! Share our faith! Go make disciples! And do it all over the world!
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…,” Jesus said.
Okay! Let’s get out there! What are we waiting for?? It’s a clear command! As clear, it seems, as the command to take and eat and drink, and in doing so, to remember Jesus…
Isn’t it?…
Having been exposed in recent months to a more complete picture with regard to the history of 15th century European explorers and religious leaders–specifically, Christian leaders–as they began to “discover” the continent that we now call America, and learning more about the horrific atrocities committed, the unspeakable brutalities perpetrated, the uncalled for and nearly unforgivable violence carried out in the name of Christ, by those Europeans explorers, against the indigenous peoples who had been here for centuries, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” or if they wouldn’t be baptized, then killing them so that they might “save their souls”… In light of all of that, I can’t quite read those verses with the same enthusiasm that I admit I used to feel, and that some—if not many?— Christians still feel today…
And speaking of today, as we have heard here in recent weeks and as I feel compelled to name again today, those atrocities and brutalities and violence and the killing of indigenous peoples and their languages and cultures didn’t just take place in the 15th century…but they continued to take place in the 16th century…and in the 17th century…and in the 18th century…and in the 19th and 20th and, yes, even into the 21st century…
And as we also know, it wasn’t just explorers that participated in that violence, but settlers and other regular folks…
And it wasn’t just European but later and currently Americans…
And, perhaps the most heartbreaking of all, it wasn’t just Christian leaders but plenty of regular, everyday Christians. Then, and now.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit…”
But it says it right there!! Jesus said that! What do we make of that? How are we to make sense of that as people of faith today? As people who claim to be disciples of Jesus? As people who call ourselves Christian??
I wonder what we might make of it if we paid as much attention to the next part of that verse as we seemingly have to that first part? The part where Jesus goes on to say: “…teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”
What did Jesus command his disciples to do? Plenty of things, right? But what was the last commandment he gave them, that last night he was with them before he was crucified? The one that he called a new commandment… The one that seemed, oh, I don’t know, maybe the most important one, since he seemed to be emphasizing it in his last moments with them??
“Love one another as I have loved you…”
Love one another as I have loved you… That’s how people will know you’re my disciples, if you love one another.
What if that’s what Christians throughout history and around the world, then and now, there and here, were known for??
“Love one another as I have loved you…”
I’m going to change gears a little bit…and revisit what I shared in our church newsletter this weekend…
Last Thursday, I had the heartbreaking honor, and the humbling burden, of leading a memorial service for a 17-yr-old from our community who overdosed on fentanyl and died on Saturday, May 20. He was a week shy of finishing his junior year at Los Alamos High School.
I had known this young man since he was a toddler, when he and my son went to preschool together. They had grown up side-by-side, as friends and classmates in elementary school, Boy Scouts in the same troop, and middle school and high school students together.
That Saturday morning, his dad went into his bedroom, expecting to find his son getting ready to go to work that morning.
Instead, he found him in his bed, not breathing.
Despite both his father and then EMTs performing CPR, this son, brother, cousin, nephew, boyfriend, and friend would not be resuscitated.
During Thursday’s memorial service, his mom, his dad, other relatives, teachers, members of the community, and many friends shared a variety of stories about this young man. Some brought laughter, and some, tears. One in particular stood out to me, and I think bears repeating.
After sharing a memory that made us all laugh, a family member from out-of-town shared their concern for this community, saying something like, “This is such a beautiful place. How can something like this happen here? This shouldn’t be happening here, in a place as beautiful as this.”
I completely agree that “this” should not be happening—“this” being the death of a young person by drug overdose. It absolutely should not be happening! It’s heartbreaking. And maddening. And terrifying. And so, so sad.
I do not agree, however, with their assessment that there is something special about this place, this community, that makes it any different than any other place, with regard to this.
I do not agree that “it shouldn’t be happening here,” as if it’s okay that it’s happening in other places but it’s not okay that it’s happening here…because this is “such a beautiful place”…
All people in all places–including here–have messy lives and hidden struggles.
All people in all places–including all the “beautiful places” of the world–are hurting, and experience shame and guilt, and have hidden doubts about their worthiness, and question whether they truly belong.
All people in all places–including here–wonder, from time to time, in their deepest selves, “If people really knew me, would they still love me?” And are afraid, deep down, that if they were truly known, they wouldn’t be loved…
And what pain that causes, deep down, in people everywhere…
And wow, do we all go to great lengths to deny and avoid and hide and numb that pain…
Some of us deal with that pain in pretty socially acceptable ways, often without even realizing that’s what we’re doing… We deny our pain by overachieving at school or at work, for example. Or by trying to please everyone around us, or by doing things for others, non-stop. Some of us mask our pain by always being polite and helpful, and never making a fuss; and some of us do it by making ourselves small so as not to come off as being too much, or by being larger-than-life, so as to hide any insecurity. Another way we avoid acknowledging our pain is by knowing as much as we can about things we think are important to know about. These are all pretty socially acceptable ways of not dealing with, denying, or otherwise numbing our deep-down pain…
On the other hand, some of us find less socially acceptable ways of dealing with that pain–drug and alcohol use and abuse, for example. Disordered eating, overspending, compulsive gambling, emotional and/or physical abuse of those around us, deceit and manipulation, and seeking and taking life-threatening risks…for starters. We all know these are less socially acceptable, and more destructive, and more obviously harmful to ourselves and those around us… We don’t always know, however, that we’re using them to mask and hide and not to have to acknowledge the pain that’s deep down within us…
And I would hazard a guess that quite a number of us humans are what we might call “equal-opportunity discomfort-deniers,” sometimes choosing strategies that are more socially acceptable and less seemingly harmful, and at other times, opting for the ones that are less socially acceptable and more obviously harmful, depending on what’s working or not working at any given time…
But all of those things, or things like them, are present wherever there are human beings, regardless of income, education, race, religion, culture, etc…because to be human is to struggle. And the struggle is messy. And life is complicated.
And while yes, each person is doing the best they can at any given moment, all people everywhere, including here, including all of us, have been hurt by something or someone, even if that hurt was not intended… All people everywhere, including here, including all of us, have been wounded in our innermost being, even as we have been loved…
It’s the reality of the fallen human condition.
And, all people in all places, including here, including each of us, desperately long to be deeply seen and known, and loved exactly as we are.
That is another piece of what it is to be human. And we don’t just long for that—we need that in order to live fully and thrive.
And, it terrifies us…
We tell ourselves that if people really saw us and knew us, then surely they wouldn’t still love us. Because we’ve somehow learned that there are parts of us that are unacceptable. And so we hide our true selves. Or at least parts of our true selves. And we deny the pain we feel at not being truly seen and deeply known and still loved… And we smile and say we’re fine…
We mask our true selves, showing only the parts we’ve been taught are acceptable. And we deny the pain we feel at not knowing our full selves as worthy of being seen. And we laugh and act as though we’re fine.
And we struggle silently, thinking maybe it’s just us who feels unworthy, unknown, unloved…all the while telling the world around us that we’re fine…and all the while, telling ourselves that if people really knew us, surely they wouldn’t still love us…
And we ignore and deny and bury and numb our pain, in more or less socially acceptable, more or less destructive, more or less obviously harmful ways.
And…it is my deepest conviction that all people everywhere, including here, including each one of us, are deeply and truly and fully seen and known and loved, by God.
Yes, I’m going to say it yet again: each person is God’s beloved.
And I continue to wonder: What would the world look like if all people really knew that? What would our communities look like if we all fully understood that? What would you and I look like if we could each truly claim that, deep in our souls??
I am God’s beloved… You are God’s beloved… Each person is God’s beloved…
And not because any of us have earned it by our goodness or our smartness or our politeness or our faithfulness. Not because any of us deserve it because of our transcript or our income or our happy family or our level of health. Not because our skin color or language or gender identity or ethnic background or political party or sexual orientation or age or religion is any more “right” than anyone else’s.
We are not loved by God because of anything having to do with us.
We are God’s beloved because Love is who God is and Love is what God does. Period.
And we are not not loved by God because of our drug use or our failing grades or our history of abuse. We are not not loved by God because of whom we love, or what we look like, or how many partners we’ve had. We are not not loved by God because of the amount of melatonin in our skin, or the type of scars on our skin, or the number of tattoos covering our skin. We are not not loved by God because of our lack of savings, or our lack of advanced degrees, or our lack of faith.
We are not not loved by God because of anything having to do with us.
We are God’s beloved because Love is who God is and Love is what God does. Period.
We are God’s beloved because Love is who God is and Love is what God does. Period.
What would the world look like if all people really knew that? What would our communities look like if we all fully understood that? What would you and I look like if we could each truly claim that, deep in our souls??
And then, began to love others with that same kind of love??
According to Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’s last words to his disciples were these: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20, NRSV)
The recent death of the young man in our community by drug overdose absolutely should not have happened. He was far too young, he had far too much life ahead of him, and he left a hole way too big in the hearts and lives of way too many.
My prayer today is that before we go and make any more disciples, we who claim to be disciples will be willing to do the difficult, sometimes hard-to-stomach, often painful, and deeply healing and liberating work of more and more truly claiming our identity as people who are deeply and fully seen and known and loved by God, exactly as we are, the good, the bad, and the ugly, and with all of our messy, and complicated, and hidden parts…so that we can continue to do the also difficult, also sometimes hard-to-stomach, also often painful, and also deeply healing and liberating work of more and more truly loving those around us with that same kind of love.
Love one another, Jesus said, as I have loved you….
What if that’s how Christians were known, throughout history and around the world, there and here, then and now?
I guess we can’t do anything about the “there” and “then,” but we can do something about the “here” and “now.”
God, may it be so.
Amen.
Rev. Deborah Beloved Church (aka "Pastor Deb") 