The Great Commission. [Mt 28.18-20]

Matthew 28.18-20 KJV

18And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. 19Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: 20teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.

There are two passages which Christians tend to call Jesus’s Great Commission: The instructions to his students in the Long Ending of Mark, and this passage here. This one’s shorter, so more Christians have memorized it. Probably a good idea for you to memorize it. It’s not just a commission for the first apostles; it’s for every follower of Jesus ever since. Including you.

In it, Jesus instructs his students to disciple the ἔθνη/éthni, “ethnics,” which the KJV translates “nations”; which the students would’ve understand to mean gentiles. This is why some skeptics aren’t so sure Jesus legitimately said this: If he told his first followers to go to the gentiles, why’d they struggle so much with the idea, they had to have a whole council about it? But if you’ve ever worked with kids, you know they don’t always listen. Jesus traveled to other Roman provinces in the area—to the Dekapolis, to Tyre and Sidon and provinces north of the Galilee, to Samaria—and while there were plenty of ethnic Israelis in those areas, you know there were gentiles intermixed among ’em. He’d demonstrated many times his message was for everyone. So yeah, this is a legitimate Jesus command. Go teach all nations.

We’re to teach everyone, everywhere, everything Jesus taught us. We’re to baptize people in the name of the trinity. We’re to create new disciples, new students of Christ, new Christ-followers, new Christians, to preserve what he teaches, and obey him. And, lest we think he’s abandoned us to do it alone, he intends to be with us every day till the monumental job is done.

Which is… when? At the second coming? Seven years before? A thousand years after? Jesus only says “the end of the world,” which is kinda left open to interpretation. After all he’s gonna rule the world for a millennium, so the world won’t end for a mighty long time. All we do know is this age has an end-point. When that day comes, Jesus expects his kingdom to be full of people whom his apostles brought to him. We gotta get busy!

Too guilty to pray.

There’s two kinds of guilt: The emotion, and the legal status. Today I’m talking about the emotion.

Not that there aren’t people who don’t bother to pray because of the legal status—because, they say, they’re far too evil to talk to God. Rubbish; the only thing really stopping ’em from talking to their Father, is their emotion, and probably their pride—they’re just so bad, God can’t abide them. That’s rubbish too.

’Cause if the devil, which is probably as pure evil as beings can get (though there are definitely some humans who give it solid competition) had no trouble talking with God, Jb 1.6-7 we all know God isn’t so holy he can’t interact with evil creatures. Jesus ate with sinners, remember? So much so, it bugged snobs.

So yeah, I’m writing about the emotion of guilt—that feeling you’ve done wrong and deserve chastisement for it. Tied together with it is the irrational fear God’s gonna chastise you, when you approach him: “How durst thou stand before me and speak unto me, thou filthy sinner? Half a mind have I to smite thee with shingles.” And visions of this angry KJV-speaking cosmic hairy thunderer dance through our fearful brains.

’Cause we completely forgot God is Jesus. Was Jesus this way towards people who approached him? No. (Well okay, he acted a bit racist towards this one Syrian, but that was likely a test. Mt 15.21-28) When we turn to God in prayer, he doesn’t blast us with wrath and anger. He confronts us like the father in the Prodigal Son Story:

Luke 15.20-24 The Message

20“He got right up and went home to his father.

“When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. 21The son started his speech: ‘Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son ever again.’

22“But the father wasn’t listening. He was calling to the servants, ‘Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We’re going to feast! We’re going to have a wonderful time! 24My son is here—given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!’ And they began to have a wonderful time.”

The son was feeling mighty guilty—but his father’s response was, “I have my boy back! Let’s party!” In a healthy relationship with a healthy father, your dad’s not gonna smack you around for screwing up; life will already do that aplenty. He’s just gonna love you, and be there for you. That’s God. That hairy thunderer?—that’s not a healthy father, ergo that’s not God. Stop letting that false image obstruct your relationship with God. Jesus describes his Father in his parable. That’s what we should expect—no matter how guilty we might feel.

“Wives, be subject to your husbands.”

1 Peter 3.1-7.

Just after Simon Peter addresses how household servants oughta live under difficult masters, next he deals with how wives oughta live under difficult husbands. And again, he’s speaking to people in a different culture, in the Roman Empire, where women lacked rights and couldn’t always escape their tyrannical spouses. They’d be suffering in the very same way a slave would under a despotic master. Does God care about them too, and have grace for them too? Of course he does.

And of course tyrannical spouses misuse this passage, and claim it justifies all their evil. It does not. Plenty of other scriptures warn ’em God doesn’t approve. Peter warns ’em too, in verse 7. In no way does any part of this passage negate those other passages, and in no way should you trust any pastor who suggests otherwise.

1 Peter 3.1-7 KWL

1Likewise you² women submitting

to your² own men

—and if a certain man doesn’t obey the word,

perhaps they’ll be won over without the word

through the lifestyle of their women,

2seeing their holy lifestyle

in fear.

3About them:

Don’t be externally like the world—

with elaborately braided hair,

decorated with gold,

or dressing in conspicuous clothing.

4Instead be like a private, thoughtful person,

looking into the incorruptible things

of a gentle, quiet spirit,

who is precious in God’s sight.

5For holy women who hope in God

lived this way at some point,

arranging themselves in submission

to their own men,

6like Sarah listened to Abraham

and calls him Master.

You² who do good deeds are her daughters,

and aren’t afraid of anything startling.

7You² men likewise—

living with your² women

with the understanding

that they’re like a weak utensil;

showing them honor

like they’re your² fellow heirs of living grace

—lest your² prayers be cut off.

I should remind you: Most bibles tend to translate women and men (Greek γυναῖκες/yinékes and ἄνδρες/ándres) as “wives” and “husbands.” Contextually, that’s usually what the New Testament authors meant. But not always. A patriarch was responsible for all the women of his house, whether they were married to him or not; this’d include unmarried sisters and daughters, widowed mothers-in-law, and any other family members under his protection, and of course household servants and slaves. They’d also be “his” women—and for the women, he’d be “their” man. They wouldn’t be married; they’d be in no sexual relationship (or at least they really ought not be!) but as the ruler of the family, they were expected to heed his authority and wisdom, and he was expected to take them into consideration and not act unilaterally. Did they always do this? Nah. Hence Peter’s need to remind ’em to do so.

Like most people dictating their letters, Peter uses some run-on sentences, out-of-place clauses, and forgets to use verbs. Makes translation and interpretation tricky—but not impossible! What he’s basically saying is: Christian women, be a good devout example for your crummy men. They may not listen to God’s word, but maybe despite this, they’ll listen to you; they’ll respect you, and be won over by your Christlike behavior. Hey, it’s been known to happen!

The Five Thousand try to crown Jesus.

John 6.14-15.

Right after Jesus and his students feed the 5,000 in the Galilee, this happens:

John 6.14-15 KWL

14So the people,

seeing the sign Jesus does,

are saying this:

“Truly, this is the Prophet

who comes into the world!”

15So Jesus,

knowing they are about to come and seize him

so that they might make him king,

goes back again into a mountain,

alone by himself.

The synoptic gospels also tell this story, but Mark and Matthew end it thisaway:

Mark 6.45 KJV

And straightway he constrained his disciples to get into the ship, and to go to the other side before unto Bethsaida, while he sent away the people.

Matthew 14.22 KJV

And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship, and to go before him unto the other side, while he sent the multitudes away.

Mark and Matthew don’t say why Jesus ordered his students to “straightway” (Greek εὐθέως/efthéos, “quickly”) get into the boat, but John certainly fills in that blank: The crowds believed the miracle of feeding an entire town’s worth of people with one boy’s lunch Jn 6.9 was a σημεῖον/simíon, a sign from God. In their bible, the last time somebody miraculously fed a massive crowd with bread was when Moses ben Amram led the newly-freed Hebrews into the wilderness, and the LORD fed ’em manna. And didn’t Moses say this?—

Deuteronomy 18.15-19 KJV

15The LORD thy God will raise up unto thee a Prophet from the midst of thee, of thy brethren, like unto me; unto him ye shall hearken; 16according to all that thou desiredst of the LORD thy God in Horeb in the day of the assembly, saying, Let me not hear again the voice of the LORD my God, neither let me see this great fire any more, that I die not. 17And the LORD said unto me, They have well spoken that which they have spoken. 18I will raise them up a Prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee, and will put my words in his mouth; and he shall speak unto them all that I shall command him. 19And it shall come to pass, that whosoever will not hearken unto my words which he shall speak in my name, I will require it of him.

The LORD goes on, describing a fake prophet in case anybody tries to pull a fast one on the Hebrews, Dt 18.20-22 and Christians really oughta memorize that passage, because many a fake prophet has successfully pulled some fast ones on us.

But even though people recognize (and are meant to recognize) the LORD is describing any prophet who steps up and says, “The LORD told me something,” Pharisees claimed this passage is also an End Times prophecy. At some point before the End, there’s gonna be a Prophet-Like-Moses who, just like Moses, is gonna rescue Israel from their enemies, take ’em back into the wilderness, and feed ’em manna.

Is Jesus this Prophet-Like-Moses? Yes he is. Simon Peter said so. Ac 3.20-26

Now, is he gonna do what Pharisees believed he’d do? Some of it. Definitely not all. Fr’instance he is gonna rescue Israel from its enemies… but he’s not taking Israel into the wilderness to feed ’em manna; there’s no need for that. Unless “feed them manna” is a metaphor for “teach them the word of God”—but again, there’s no need to take ’em into the wilderness for that.

In any event that’s the quandary Jesus now found himself in. Yes he’s the Prophet; no, he’s not gonna do that.

The Apostles Creed.

Whenever I bring up the Apostles Creed to Christians, I tend to get one of two reactions: Positive and negative.

The positive response tends to come from Christians who grew up in formal, liturgical churches. Most of ’em can recite the creed right along with me… though the version I memorized is the Book of Common Prayer version, and most of ’em tend to know one of the Roman Missal versions. There are minor wording differences, but it’s the same creed.

Third Day and Brandon Heath perform Rich Mullins’ “Creed.” Heath’s YouTube channel

If they didn’t grow up in such churches, or their churches never taught it to ’em, they might still know it. ’Cause they learned it as lyrics from a Rich Mullins song. Or someone else’s cover of that song. Or John Michael Talbot’s song, though that’s lesser-known.

Negative responses typically come from anti-Catholics who get weirded out whenever I dare bring up any form of ancient Christianity their churches never taught. They don’t see the point of creeds. Yet at the very same time, they’ll go on and on about the need for necessary foundational beliefs… which is precisely what creeds are.

The Apostles Creed (often spelled with an apostrophe; it doesn’t need one) is Christianity’s simplest, most basic creed. Here it is… in my translation from the Latin. As far as I can tell, the Latin’s the original.

I believe in God,

the Father, almighty, creator of heaven and earth.

And in Christ Jesus, his only Son, our master.

He was conceived by the Holy Spirit;

born from the virgin Mary.

He suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried.

He descended to the afterlife.

The third day, he was resurrected from the dead.

He ascended to heaven;

he sits at the almighty Father’s right hand.

From there he will come;

he is judging the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy catholic church,

communion of saints, forgiveness of sins,

bodily resurrection, and eternal life.

Amen.

A creed, like this creed, is a faith statement. Unlike the faith statements drafted by denominations and individual churches, creeds were written long before the Great Schism and denominational divisions—all the way back when Christians still considered ourselves only one church. Whenever preachers tried to pass off innovative ideas and hypotheses as authentic Christianity, and instead created division and disharmony, church leaders throughout the Roman Empire and the world would gather, discuss, check the scriptures, and write creeds to reflect the orthodox point of view. Every true Christian should be able to say the creeds and mean ’em. Only heretics get tripped up by them.

Tradition has it the Apostles Creed is the very oldest of the creeds—even that it was written by the Twelve. It’s certainly old, and consistent with other creeds, but the oldest full copy we have of it comes from St. Permin’s Dicta Abbatis Pirminii/“Sayings of Abbot Permin,” written after 710. It looks far more like it’s a short version of the Nicene Creed—probably drafted by someone who couldn’t remember the full creed, but could remember the basics.

Who runs the church?

Who leads the church? Short answer: Christ Jesus.

Way longer answer: When we Christians are asked who runs our individual churches, most of the time we talk about the leadership structure of our individual churches: The head pastor, the other pastors or pastoral team, the bishop, the elders, the board members. Sometimes we’ll describe the leadership structure of our denomination. But if you pinned us down, everybody should say the leader of our church is Jesus. He is the king over God’s kingdom, after all.

But since his kingdom isn’t yet of this world, Jn 18.36 the day-to-day duties of running Jesus’s churches on earth fall to vicars. Vicar is the Christianese word for “deputy,” and means the very same thing: Lieutenants who answer to the guy who’s really in charge, who’d be Jesus. Hopefully we truly are working on his behalf, and not for ourselves. Though I leave it to you as to how well we’re doing.

Now, if you were to ask your average pagan who’s in charge of a church, most of ’em assume the pastor is. (Or the minister, priest, father, sister, bishop, apostle, prophet—whatever you call the top dog.) And most of them, unless they grew up around non-cultish Christians, assume the pastor holds way more sway than they actually do. Depending on how cynical this pagan is, pastors range from benevolent dictators to selfish despots. To their mind, every church is some form of top-down tyranny.

And to be fair, a lot of churches do practice a top-down model. It’s the most common church leadership structure there is. Arguably it’s the first structure: Jesus in charge, and his students not. And once Jesus ascended to his Father, it was followed by the apostles in charge, and everyone else below them.

Of course I say “arguably” because some Christians argue this top-down structure isn’t Jesus’s intent. They’ll advocate for their own favorite structure—namely the structures we find in their churches. And yes, they have proof texts. If you think church oughta be a democracy, you’ll likely quote verses which prove God thinks so too. Top-down, bottom-up, middle-out, nobody-in-charge-but-the-Holy-Spirit, or even benevolent anarchy, people will point to verses which they’re entirely sure determine their view.

Regardless of those views, I’m gonna point out the top-down model is all over Christendom because it’s consistently found all over the scriptures. And all over human history, all over church history, and all over humanity. It’s our default setting. Left to our own devices, it’s how humans choose to run things: We either have the top-down model imposed upon us by a king or dictator, or we deliberately choose it and elect a mayor or president. ’Cause most of the time, it’s just the most efficient way to do things. Congresses take too long to hash things out—which is great when you intentionally want to draw out deliberations, like the American Founders did. But once you’ve finally determined what to do, you want a president to act upon it. You want a top-down leader.

Well, unless you’ve been burnt by too many top-down leaders, and wanna try something different. Hence some churches run that way.

But regardless, everybody pays lip service to the idea Jesus runs our churches. Hopefully we let him!

Too stressed to pray.

Since I was asked to write about being too stressed to pray, I’m gonna… but I admit my advice may be inadequate, because I don’t personally suffer from this problem. Whenever I’m stressed, my knee-jerk reaction is to pray.

Not hit things, not flee, definitely not drink or get stoned—pray. Whenever they’re in a jam, plenty of people immediately call out to God; even atheists will do this, even though they absolutely don’t wanna, even though they’re pretty sure nobody’s listening, because they were raised to do this. When I was growing up, the people around me were predominately Christian; when they were in a jam, they prayed. I mimicked them; I prayed too. And still do.

And I’m aware not everybody was raised Christian like me, so they didn’t develop this knee-jerk reaction. When they get stressed out, their first response is to do the other things I just listed. Punch the wall—but ideally some other, healthier form of physical expression, like going for a run; like going to the gym and hitting the heavy bag. I got a lot of alcoholics in the family, and I know they immediately turn to drink. I have coworkers who are stoned most of the time, and marijuana is how they deal with stress too. I had a friend in college who handled her stress by having lots of sex with her boyfriend. If you grew up with unhealthy methods of stress relief, stands to reason you’d turn to them in a crisis.

But once you become Christian, you gotta unlearn the unhealthy methods, and learn to turn to God.

So my recommendation? Practice turning to God whenever you’re dealing with small stressors. When little things bug you, remind yourself to pray. Pray like that regularly enough, and when the bigger things wallop you, prayer won’t be the last thing on your mind. It may not be the first—you’re working on it—but your reaction certainly won’t be, “Prayer? Who has the time? I’m dealing with a crisis here.”

(Oh, and go to the gym too. That actually works a lot better than you’d think.)