M1: Recruitment and Equipment

Text: Matthew 28:16-10
Theme: “M1: Recruitment and Equipment” (1st in a Series)
The Festival of the Holy Trinity/Father’s Day
June 19, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

IN THE NAME OF JESUS

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go 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 I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

Earlier this month, on June 3rd, popular television actor James Arness died. Chances are that the young people of our congregation – many of whom are heading back from a mission trip – don’t know anything about James Arness. But I suspect that many of you here this morning would recognize the name and connect it almost immediately to the role he played on TV. He was, of course, Sheriff Matt Dillon on the program, Gunsmoke, which spanned two decades. He jumped off the screen as a strong, good-natured character who enjoyed the company of the saloon keeper, Miss Kitty, and his trusty sidekick, Festus. With all the plots and twists of various episodes, Sheriff Dillon – portrayed by Arness – was the essence of law and order.

If you know about James Arness, you also likely know about his brother, Peter Graves. Peter was the star of a television program called Mission: Impossible. The name of his character was Jim Phelps, and Jim and his IM Force, as they were called, foiled the dastardly plans of many an evildoer. Every program would begin with Jim Phelps coming across a mini-cassette recorder with a message that began: “Good morning, Mr. Phelps.” It would go on to detail the requirements of the team’s mission. It usually would end with language like this: “Should you, or any of your IM Force, be caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of the matter. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Jim.”

There are some who would say that what’s happening to the holy catholic church today is what happened to that mini-cassette tape that Jim Phelps listened to: it’s self-destructing. I’m fully aware of the arguments on that score. Some would say, given the direction of our culture, that church has become far too rigid, old-fashioned, legalistic, judgmental, and fundamentalist. On the other hand, there are those who say that the church has watered down its message to such a degree that there is no longer anything authoritative, substantive, or spiritually nourishing about it at all. In our modern, high-tech world, the church can be seen, but it’s mostly in the rear-view mirror as people – in a post-Christian world, speed on with life.

My friends, I don’t buy in to any of this jabberwocky. I don’t buy it because I’ve read the text for today, studied the text for today, and believe the text for today. If we stick with the text, I’m persuaded that it can be the antidote to this maddening double-mindedness that has gripped the church. The text reads as follows, and I’m going to provide a bit of commentary along the way.

“Then the eleven disciples went to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go.” Those disciples were like Festus on Gunsmoke; they were trusty sidekicks of Jesus. They believed in law and order, and they did what they were told. But then, having done that, they encounter Jesus. It says, “When they saw him, they worshipped, but some doubted.”

Ladies and gentlemen, we can come to church and pretend all morning long that we don’t have doubts about the reality of God or the claims of Jesus Christ on our lives. But let us expose the elephant in the church’s living room. The fact is, we do have doubts; we all do – in one way or another. There’s room, at First Presbyterian Church, for your doubts. We don’t claim to have all the answers. At the same time, I hope you perk up to the notion and latch on to the idea that still, amid our doubts, we point not to ourselves and to the quality and content of our Presbyterian faith. Instead, we point to Jesus Christ. That’s when Presbyterian Christians are at their best.

Some worshipped Jesus but some doubted. And Jesus didn’t call down fire and brimstone on the doubters. Instead, our text says, he “…came to them and said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’”

Whoa! If that’s true (and I’m convinced it is), it changes everything; it makes all the difference in the world, folks. He didn’t go off seeking authority or hungering after or campaining or politic-ing for that power. Rather, it was given to Him; it came as a gift. As I’ve said before, I’ll say it again: If not gift, then not gospel; it not gospel, then not gift.

With His authority established – or, as we Presbyterians like to say, His sovereignty, he swings in – like that mini-cassette recorder on Mission: Impossible – to the mission: “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations.”

For those of you who like your law and order, you’ll be happy to know that there is a command in there. But it’s not “go.” The word translated as “go” in this text is more faithfully translated from the original Greek as follows: “When you arrive at where you are sent.”

Folks, you are where you are sent. You are where Jesus has sent you to be. Think of who you are, today, as father’s – or as mothers, children, youth, young adults, workers, those looking for work, retirees. You may be rejoicing today for any one of a number of reasons. You also may be grieving. You may be worshipping; you may be doubting. Jesus wants you all; Jesus takes you all. Jesus recruits you all.

Now, here comes the actual command – and it IS a command and not a suggestion: “Make disciples of all nations.” Jesus wants no one left behind in the rear-view mirror of the church. A disciples, literally, is one who learns. In addition, you may have noticed the word discipline in the word disciple. And yes, it takes some discipline to learn. Jesus is recruiting learners who continue to learn and who also help others to learn – and to grow – in the grace and mercy and peace of Jesus Christ.

Some like law and order, and that’s fine. Jesus delivers. Others like the process, and Jesus doesn’t disappoint on that count either. Here’s the disciple-making process: baptize people in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Today is Father’s Day, yes. But it is also Holy Trinity Sunday, and here’s your Holy Trinity reference: the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Say what you will about Baptism; say what you will about whether it is a sacrament, ordinance, or act of faith; say what you will about whether it is for adults only or infants too. One thing is beyond dispute: Baptism, with the water, puts the Name of God on one person. Baptism is Jesus saying to that one person: Here I am! Signed, sealed, delivered, I’m yours! Baptism is Jesus saying to that one person: The powers of darkness and death will try to do their job on you, but they’ll have to get through me first. And there’s no chance they can since I died for you on that cross; I rose again from the dead with you in my head and heart. I live for you. I am with you. If people really knew what Baptism was all about, that font over there would never collect dust.

Jesus goes on with the process: Teach them to obey – it can also be translated as “observe” or “keep” – everything I have commanded you. We’re not given what some might call the luxury of picking and choosing what we like from the teachings of Jesus. We’re called to share everything.

Our text, which has been called “The Great Commission”, ends with a promise from the Lord: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

My friends, the heavenly secretary has not disavowed any knowledge of the matter. The tape has not self-destructed. God doesn’t wish us luck. God is with us. The mission is ours. Will you choose to accept it?

Amen.