Living Out The Great Commission

Things have changed for me recently. Some close friends of mine and people I look up to are gone. They’re not dead, although sometimes in my heart it feels that way, because I can no longer laugh with them, share stories with them, or ask them important questions—at least, not like I used to. They have moved to other parts of the country, are understandably busy with their families and careers, or both.

I’m ashamed to say that before this happened, I had never really taken it upon myself to study the Bible. I mean I had, but not really. Before, I had always relied upon others, who (presumably) had been down the path themselves. And so I was always relying on someone else’s experiences, interpretations, and wisdom. I had to stop being fed by others. It was time to feed myself.

So, in January of 2019, I began to study in earnest. It hasn’t been easy. In fact, many times I don’t want to do it. You see, when you learn something new, the old part of you—the part of you that assumed you had things figured out—dies off. This is not a particularly pleasant process. Many things that I grew up believing or thinking to be true have become different. And I want to be careful about the way that I say this, because I don’t mean untrue or false, but different.

I began my study in Genesis, because the beginning seemed like a good place to start. Over a year later, I’m still there. Genesis is a heavy book. It’s old, ancient, and shrouded in mystery. It reflects the mythologies, cultures, and storytelling of its day. No matter the difficulty, though, I have found it to be undeniably true. More true than anything I’ve ever read, in fact.

It is why (or at least one reason why) these stories have survived for so long. Why is it that we don’t generally know or organize our societies around the stories of ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, or Greece? How about Rome or any of the other countless civilizations that have come and gone? The thing is, there may be some universal human truths found in some of those stories, but I would wager that all of them are less true than those found in the Bible.

This is because the Biblical stories have proven to be true across space and time. It’s true that men blame God for their downfall, as Adam does in the garden of Eden. It’s true that we experience these destructive pangs of envy at the sight of someone’s good fortune and success, as Cain does with Abel (this one has become especially relevant right now, as we have become overeager to tear down the successful, even more so if they make a mistake). And it’s true that if we choose to walk with God, as Noah did, then we can be afforded a level of calm, wisdom, and preparedness that we would not otherwise have when disaster inevitably comes our way.

However, as much time as I’ve spent looking for truth in the very beginnings of the Old Testament, I’d like to talk briefly about The Great Commission in Matthew 28:19-20. If you keep up with us regularly, you’ll know that this passage in particular is brought up often. In fact, it shapes much of what we do.

One reason we are so keen on this passage and the word disciple is because this specific teaching is about action. It is about doing. It is about truth lived out in the world. We like the word disciple because it is both a noun and a verb (these are generally always great words; love is another example). It is something you can do, and it is also something you are. It is also a principle that is above you that you can live up to, because to be a disciple is a very difficult road indeed.

Throughout my life, I’ve seen the word believer (and other similar words) thrown around a lot. Now, I realize that people don’t mean any harm by it. It’s a descriptive term that we all understand. It even occurs elsewhere on this website.

My question is: How would you like to be known? As a believer? What does this say about your character? Does it say anything? How about a disciple? How about a leader? We could keep going. Perhaps believer is not a bad first step, but maybe we can earn some other descriptions as we live out Christ in the world. Perhaps you can be a good listener, or someone capable and resourceful, or someone who is willing to do a job that no one else seems willing to do. Maybe you can teach and hand down your own hard-won experiences to others.

These sorts of details come to mind when I think of the word disciple. It is servant-hood and selfless operation. It is a life devoted to the activity of bringing a piece of heaven here to earth, without regard for our own selfish pursuits.

Like anything else that is worthwhile, this is extraordinarily difficult. I believe it always has been and probably always will be. However, in our current age, I see what seems like an increased amount of polarization and partisanship here in America. I won’t go into politics, but, being an artist (which is traditionally on the left) who lives in the South (which is traditionally on the right), I have many friends on both sides of the discussion. I see and hear both arguments.

This polarization doesn’t have to be about left/right politics, either. I also see it occurring within churches, or between denominations, or among families. Since when did we have to all agree 100% with each other? It’s ok if we disagree. You may disagree with the very thing I’m writing right now. That’s ok—we’ll both be fine. My thoughts are that we may not all agree with each other, but we do have to get along with each other.

The only thing I would ask of you is to show love to everyone, regardless of who they are. That probably won’t be easy, either, but real love is a combination of negotiation, sacrifice, and determination. You’ll have to be a disciple, and you’ll have to disciple others. We’ve been given a very clear command to do so. It’s ok if we’re not all on the same page. We’re all humans, we’re all flawed, and we’re all made in the image of our creator.

If there is one thing that mission trips have taught me, it is that I always expect to see and hear people who are vastly different from myself, but what I continue to experience is the opposite. Although we are from vastly different parts of the world, all I can think about is how we are all the same.

So in your own search for truth, I would encourage you not to concentrate on your differences with someone else. Those will always be there. Instead, try to unite in seeking what is good and true.

This reminds me of the end of the preface in C.S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity (which is an outstanding book; please give it a read if you have not already). Near the end, he speaks of Christianity as being like a house, with many doors, rooms, and hallways. In the last paragraph, right before he begins the first chapter in his epic book, he writes:

When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more, and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house.