From Roots to Fruit

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Matthew 28:16-20

June 14, 2015 • Portage First UMC

Richard B. Mellon was a multimillionaire who spent most of his life playing the game “tag.” Actually, it was an ongoing game he had with his brother, Andrew, and it lasted for seven decades. When Richard was on his deathbed, he called his brother over and whispered, “Last tag.” Those were his last words, and Andrew remained “It” for four years, until he died. Last words. They are important. Sometimes profound, sometimes funny, many people want to say something that’s remembered. Leonardo da Vinci, who gave the world some of its most beautiful artwork, said on his deathbed, “I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have.” So the Mona Lisa isn’t good enough? Richard Feynman, a physicist, author, musician, professor, and traveler, died in Los Angeles in 1988. His last words were these: “This dying is boring.” And according to Steve Jobs’ sister Mona, the Apple, Inc. founder's last words were, “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.”

Last words tell us something about the person and often about their life. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, lived to be eighty-seven, which was quite old in the 1700s, and he preached outdoors continually through his eighties. Just a few days before his death he preached at City Road Chapel in London. In his last days, he wrote a final letter to William Wilberforce, who was championing the abolition of the slave trade in England, encouraging him to continue the fight. As his strength waned, his friends gathered to encourage and comfort Wesley. At one point, he gathered his strength to remind them, “Best of all is, God is with us.” And then, just before he died, Wesley tried to sing a hymn by Isaac Watts. The beginning of the hymn says, “I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath,” but all Wesley could get out were two words, twice: “I’ll praise…I’ll praise…” And then he breathed his last. Even in his last words, Wesley was pointing people toward God (Hamilton, Revival, pgs. 136-137). Last words are important. They tell us something about the person and often give us direction for the future.

Well, I’m not dying, but we are at the point in time where I am attempting to share some last words with you all. Last week, today and next week, I want to share my heart with you and give you a hopeful direction and kingdom focus for the future. It has been my pleasure and privilege to be your pastor for the past decade, and as I pondered how to sort of summarize or wrap everything up, three things came to mind. Three important things I want to share with you. Last week, we talked about being rooted deeply in Christ by studying the Scriptures and engaging in spiritual disciplines, and next week I want to share a final challenge, but this week I want to remind you of something you already know. It’s not enough to be rooted; roots only exist for one reason. Roots are there to grow a tree and to help the tree produce what it’s meant to produce. For some trees, that’s just leaves, but for others, it’s fruit. As we sort of ended with last week, the Bible specifically tells us we’re called to bear fruit; we’re fruit trees. So the question for this morning is this: what kind of fruit? What does it look like when we move from roots to fruit?

To answer that question, I want us to stand with the eleven disciples on a mountain in Galilee and listen to Jesus’ last words. As I said, last words are important, and there are, perhaps, none more important then the last words Jesus shares with his beloved disciples at the very end of the Gospel of Matthew. First of all, let’s get the picture, the setting. The disciples have been in Jerusalem, and Jesus, at some point, has asked them to meet him on a mountain in Galilee. Important things happen on mountains, especially in Matthew’s Gospel, but at this point more important than the destination is the journey. I think Jesus wanted to get them out of the city, out of the place where all the events surrounding the crucifixion and resurrection happened. They needed a journey, and it would take them at least a week to travel from Jerusalem to Galilee (Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pg. 250), and that’s if they were hurrying. So it’s perhaps as much as ten days after the resurrection when they arrive at the mountain. They needed that time to clear their heads, to be ready for what was to come next.

Have you ever needed a journey like that? I remember in the summer of 1988, when we were working in inner city Chicago, and I came to a point where the stress and the work and the conflicting ideas about how things should be done just built up to where I needed to get away. I didn’t tell our team much of anything, just got in the car and drove toward the suburbs. I needed to clear my head, and once I was able to do that, I was able to go back to work. Sometimes you need to get out of a situation to be able to see what’s next. Sometimes you need a journey, and I think that’s what is going on with the disciples. Jesus could have told them what he needed to in Jerusalem, but instead he calls them out of the city, back home to Galilee, and gives them time to clear their heads, to think things through and be ready to hear what he has to say.

So he calls them to a mountain (28:16). Now, no one knows which mountain around Galilee, and there are several candidates. Not that it matters, but my choice is Mount Arbel, mainly because it looks out over the beautiful Sea of Galilee and from its summit you can see most everywhere that Jesus and the disciples would have worked in their three years together. To me, it makes sense that Jesus would have called them to that place, to remind them of everything they have done together, and then to tell them, in effect, “What we did together, out there, now it’s your turn. Now you’re going to do it. You’re going to carry on my ministry.”

Here’s the way he puts it: “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” (28:18-20). Jesus is transferring his authority to the disciples, and to all who follow him, including us. Everything he has been about is now the responsibility of those eleven, and it’s been handed down through the centuries to us. It’s not enough to be rooted; we’re called to bear fruit, and Jesus describes that fruit as “making disciples.” It’s hard to see in the English translation, but there is only one verb here, and it’s in the form of a command. That command is “make disciples.” The other three words that look like verbs in the English, and have been the basis of many sermons, are actually words that describe how we do what we’ve been commanded to do. In other words, “going,” “baptizing” and “teaching” are all a part of “making disciples.” In fact, I believe they are the three essential steps in disciple making and in moving from roots to fruit (cf. Carson, “Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 595; Wilkins, NIV Application Commentary: Matthew, pg. 952).

But we ought to ask at this point: what is a disciple? What does it mean to be a disciple? If we’re going to make them, we ought to know what the end goal is. The word simply means a “follower” or a “learner” (Augsburger, Communicator’s Commentary: Matthew, pg. 330), and in the first century it was said that a disciple of a rabbi or teacher would be one who followed so closely that they got on them the dust kicked up by the rabbi’s footsteps (http://goo.gl/Z0wUOH). A disciple is someone who follows closely, who takes upon themselves the teaching of their rabbi, their master, and believes it to be authoritative. A disciple is one who is shaped wholly by the teaching or instruction of their master. What that master says is right just because the master said it. Now, obviously, putting that kind of trust or faith into a human rabbi or teacher or pastor can be dangerous, but I bet you can think of people who have shaped you, whose life has influenced you in such a way that you act or react like they do without even thinking about it. It might be a parent, or a beloved teacher or coach. It might even be a friend or another relative whom you look up to. And that’s okay, if we do it cautiously, knowing that other person is fallible and prone to make mistakes. But Jesus is no mere human being. He is, as the song says, “Son of God, Son of Man.” He is the perfect reflection of the Father. His words we can trust. His life we can emulate without fear. He told us that if we know him, we know the Father (John 14:7). He is the only one who is truly worthy to claim the title “master.” A disciple, then, is someone who hears, understands, and obeys Jesus’ teaching and seeks to follow his way of life (cf. Carson 596). A disciple is a “little Christ.” In fact, C. S. Lewis said the whole purpose of the church was to make people into little Christs. He said it this way: “If they are not doing that, all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time” (cf. Mere Christianity). The fruit we are to produce is disciples, not copies of ourselves but people being formed in the image of Jesus.

So how do we do that? Jesus here gives three movements that help us not lose our roots, but move from roots to fruit. The first is to “go.” It was not going to do these disciples any good to just stay on the mountain; the ones who needed Jesus were in the cities and town below that they could see from the top. Jesus told them to “go,” to get down off the mountain and find those who needed to become disciples. I think, though, it was a challenge for them to get that message, because some time later, when they are on top of another mountain, back near Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives, they see Jesus leave for the final time, and they stand there looking up toward the skies. I picture them standing there with their mouths hanging open, gaping at the sky, and an angel has to tell them to get moving (cf. Acts 1:1-11). “Go!” Jesus says. If you’re going to make disciples, you have to move.

In a lot of ways, we can relate to those disciples. It’s much easier for us to sit here, on the “mountain,” and expect people to come to us. We have excellent programs, wonderful ministries and great opportunities. Surely, we tend to think, if they want to know more about Jesus, they will come to us. And that may have been true fifty or sixty years ago; it was still somewhat true even twenty years ago. You could put up a church building and people would come. You could hold an event and people would come, all on their own. But that is no longer the case. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the culture we live in is not exactly friendly toward those of Christian faith. If you claim to believe in God or if you believe such a thing as truth exists, you can quickly be made fun of or accused of “hate speech” or being a “bigot” because of what you believe. And the Church has not done itself any favors. We’ve not always been radically hospitable; we’ve too often drawn lines to keep people out rather than welcome people in. We’ve failed to love our neighbors. We’ve not heard the cry of the needy. And we’ve had people who represent something other than the Jesus of the Gospels get on the news and the internet and misrepresent what Jesus and the church and the Christian faith is all about. For those reasons and many others, the culture is cynical toward people of faith; the day for “build it and they will come” is over and has been for some time. We live in a new missional age, but not an age where everyone is called to go to a far-off land necessarily. The mission you’re called to is very likely in the neighborhood right around you. Today, Jesus’ call to “go” is a call to practice our faith beyond these four walls, beyond this building. The call to “go” is a call to live faithfully in a hostile world. The call to “go” is a call to be intentional about getting to know people who are not disciples and showing them through your life and words what an authentic follower of Jesus, well rooted, looks like. The call to “go” is to live in a missional way each and every day, each and every moment. Jesus says, “Go!” What does that command look like to you? Where is he calling you to “go”?

The second movement in this commission is to “baptize.” Baptism, for the Christian, is the act of initiation, the sacrament of beginnings. Baptism doesn’t make a person into a disciple; it’s not a magic act. Rather, baptism is a sign or a symbol of the beginnings of becoming a disciple. Two weeks ago, we had a baptism and two confirmations. Today, in our 11:30 service, we will have another baptism of one of our young youth who came to me and asked to be baptized. That makes a pastor’s heart fill with joy. But when we confirm our youth, as we did two weeks ago, I always place my hand on their heads and say, “Remember your baptism, and be thankful.” Some of you can remember your baptism, but many of the rest of us cannot. I was baptized as an infant in the Sedalia Methodist Church in 1967, and while I have pictures of the day, I have no memory of the actual baptism. But when I tell youth or adults to “remember their baptism,” it’s not so much asking you to remember the actual event as to remember that you are baptized. You are part of the baptized. In other words, you are becoming a disciple. You belong to Jesus, and your life should reflect that. With your prayers, presence, gifts, service and witness, you live out that baptism in and through the life of the church.

Since baptism is a symbol of beginnings, we can also understand this command as calling us to invite people to meet Jesus. Baptism symbolizes what we have said for many years is our goal, our mission: to become a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ. This command to baptize is a command to invite people in, to welcome them to a place where they can, indeed, encounter Jesus. I think of the woman at the well in John 4. You may remember her story, that she was shamed by the people in the city and came to the well at noon, when no one else was around. On one particular day, Jesus was waiting for her, and she encountered his life-giving power in a profound way. Then, in a part of the story we don’t often get to, she does there what Jesus commands here. She “goes” back to the city, and she invites people to come meet Jesus. She tells them, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?” (John 4:29). As we go, we encourage, invite, welcome people to come with us, perhaps to church but even moreso to come with us on our own journey of getting to know Jesus. We invite them to encounter him, and believe that as they come to know Jesus, their own journey will lead to repentance and actual baptism. Jesus says, “Go…baptize…”

And teach. Once those who need Jesus have been found and invited to come along on the journey, they will need to know what it means to follow Jesus, to be a disciple. “Teach” in Jesus’ command reminds us of the need to help people grow up in the faith, to help them get rooted just as you have done. And there is specific content to what disciples teach: we teach others to obey everything Jesus has commanded us. We help them learn what it means to live like Jesus taught us. Now, there are a lot of doctrines that Christians of different traditions believe are important, and there are a lot of things we argue about between traditions. There are even a lot of beliefs and such that we argue about within our own tradition! United Methodists aren’t as united as our name implies. Sometimes the typo that happens, “untied Methodists,” is more accurate. But many of the things we argue over simply aren’t all that important; many of them don’t even have to do with Jesus and his commands. They have more to do with church politics. We’re to teach others to obey Jesus’ commands, and he said on his last night with his disciples what his primary command is: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:34-35). Earlier that same week, Jesus had summarized all of his teaching and God’s law in this way: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind…Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-38; cf. Mark 10:29-31). We teach others to obey Jesus’ commands, and Jesus’ command is to love.

Now, and I cannot say this strongly enough, this is not the mushy, sentimental, feeling-oriented stuff that passes for “love” today. This is love that welcomes all but also takes sin seriously. It does not ignore or overlook breaks in relationships, whether that takes place between people and God or person and person. This is the kind of love that loves us enough to take us as we are but loves us too much to leave us as we are. It is a love that calls us to repentance, challenges to be better than we think we can be. Too often today, we use Jesus’ call to love as an excuse or a reason to overlook someone’s sinful behavior. We pull out Jesus’ command, “Do not judge” (Matthew 7:1), and use it as an excuse to overlook brokenness and sin, to live and act as if it’s okay. But that’s not love. That’s sentimentality, or as Dietrich Bonhoeffer called it, “cheap grace.” Jesus took sin seriously enough that he died on the cross to pay the price for our sin, for our brokenness. We must take it seriously, as well. Look at this way. It is not love to let our child touch a hot stove just because they want to. The loving response in that situation is to yell, “Stop!” It’s not a loving response to let someone walk out in front of an oncoming car or bus. We attempt to stop them because they are going to hurt themselves. The loving response is not to just say “okay” to whatever someone wants to do. Sometimes—many times—love has to be “tough,” calling others to a higher and better (and safer) form of obedience and life. And, contrary to popular belief, obedience isn’t a ball and chain. It isn’t constraining. It’s freedom, actually, because we know without a doubt how we are to live (Hall, Thrive). The loving response is to help others live in a way that leads to life. Jesus’ command is to love, and we must teach others to love rightly and deeply, because only love can bring life.

Go…baptize…teach. That’s how we are called to make disciples, because then those who are taught go back out and the cycle begins again. We are never done making disciples. We are never finished with the task Jesus gave us until the day when he returns. And yet, to do this, to make disciples, does not require us to have everything figured out. These eleven disciples, and probably others along with them, come to this mountain, and Matthew tells us that when they saw Jesus, they worshipped. That’s the word Matthew uses when he wants us to know people are responding to Jesus as the Son of God. They worshipped, much as we do here each week. They bowed down, they acknowledge Jesus as Lord. But did you catch what else Matthew said? “Some doubted” (28:17). Now, some scholars I read this week said that, from their vantage point and understanding, since true worship cannot contain doubt, these folks who doubted must have been half-disciples, or wanna-be disciples. (That’s my paraphrasing of what they said.) But since when does “true worship” not include doubt? I believe exactly the opposite is true, that doubt is necessary for us to truly believe (cf. Card 251). I think what Matthew is telling us here is that, in spite of not having it all figured out, despite being a mixed bag of belief, these disciples (including himself, by the way) were still sent by Jesus. They didn’t have it all figured out, they had doubts still (though I wonder how you could possibly still have doubts after you’ve seen the resurrected Christ, but Matthew says they did), and yet Jesus still called and sent them. He trusted them to carry on his mission under his authority, and if he trusts them with their doubt, don’t you think he can trust you with yours? Don’t believe the lie that you have to have everything figured out before you can go and invite and teach. Jesus will send you just as he sent these first disciples; he longs to send you. He finds joy in seeing you move from roots to fruit.

And that brings us to the real final word of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel. It’s a promise, a reassurance that we can do this, we can answer this commission, because of what he says at the very last. Jesus knows this seems like an impossible task. He knows that the opposition is fierce; he’s told these disciples they will face imprisonment and possibly even death because of their faith (cf. Luke 21:12-19). And in the face of all that, into their future he speaks this word: “Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (28:20). At the very beginning of the Gospel, Matthew reminded his readers of one of Jesus’ most important names, a name given to him centuries before he was born when the prophet Isaiah spoke of a virgin conceiving and giving birth to a child who would be called “Immanuel,” which means “God with us” (1:22-23). Now, at the end of the Gospel, Jesus becomes what his name promised. He is Immanuel. He will be with his followers as they seek to carry out his final command, his last words. “I am with you. Wherever you go, whatever you do, when you go and when you invite and when you teach, I am with you and I will continue to be with you until the end of the world, until time is no more.” His name is Immanuel. He is with us, right here, in this place, and over there, in that place, at your rising and at your sleeping, in your work and in your leisure, in your speaking and in your silence. He is with you, and because of his presence, you can do this. You can go…baptize…teach. You can make disciples. You can move from roots to fruit because he is with you.

I know, because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it in this place and in this community so many times over the last ten years. I’ve seen children come running out of their Sunday School classes and their Bible School activities, excited about what they have learned, what you are teaching them, the ways you are showing them how to love like Jesus loved. I’ve sat beside the bed of an aging saint and heard them express the ways this church has helped them grow in their faith. I sat beside the bed of a woman whose body was wracked with cancer and listened as she asked how to know this Jesus that you had shown her. I’ve been in countless Bible study and other small groups as together we grappled with how this Gospel applies to our daily lives. I’ve been privy to conversations where I’ve heard your passion for sharing the Good News about Jesus. Just this last week, I got to read a letter from one of the offenders at Westville Prison as he wrote to a member of our congregation who has been writing encouraging words and sending them his direction. He called her “Sunshine” in the letter because her letters brighten his day. I’ve watched Stephen Ministers and Congregational Care Ministers reach out with the love of Christ to those who are hurting. I’ve seen you respond when there have been disasters, in our own area or around the world, and share help with the love of Jesus. You got a house ready in record time for a hurricane family, and you provided buckets of supplies for those who were flooded in this area. You’ve done the same thing with food for the children who live in “food insufficient households.” Every meeting, every study, every rummage sale, every meal, every worship service and Sunday School class, every hospital visit and every community gathering—they exist for only one purpose: so that we can move from roots to fruit, so that this church can better become a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ. And even with all of those wonderful stories, and countless others, already as a part of our 180-year-old story, I continue to believe that the best days for this church are yet ahead. God continues to have great things in store for Portage First in the next 180 years, but it begins with and depends on our willingness to move from roots to fruit.

Go…baptize…teach. And know that he is with you. And the best will be yet to come. Let’s pray.