Psalm 103:1 “Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.”

Our praise serves ourselves far more than it will ever serve our Lord. He doesn’t lack self-confidence and need us to pump him up so that he can feel good about himself. He isn’t plagued with all kinds of deep insecurities that make him shrivel up and withdraw if we don’t constantly praise him. He isn’t so stuck on himself that it makes him angry when we aren’t giving him compliments. He desires our praise, even commands it. But the Lord is never needy. Our praises give evidence that we properly understand his place and ours in this relationship.

The benefit of such praise is that it rehearses us in our relationship. There used to be a sign sitting on the counter in the kitchen where my children attended school. It read, “Please and Thank-you Are Still Magic Words.” We work to teach these words to our children, don’t we? Why? We want them to understand when they are asking for a favor, not demanding a right. Others are not their slaves. Our children depend on those who serve them to take care of them. “Please” says, “I am needy, and you are kind to take care of me.” “Thank you” says much the same thing, only after the fact. These words rehearse us in our true roles in the relationship between giver and receiver.

Praising and thanking God teaches us similar lessons. We are needy. I didn’t create myself. I can’t create myself. Ever wish to have a skill you don’t have, and no matter how hard you worked at it you never really managed to do it well? That’s one of the reasons I preach and teach, but I don’t play piano or organ on Sunday mornings. All the abilities I do have are gifts that God has given me. He has been kind. He has done me a favor.

Likewise, I didn’t redeem myself. I can’t redeem myself. I produce sins with no help at all, but it took Jesus to save me from them. He has done this needy soul a favor by giving his life to save me. Giving him our praise and thanks keeps us from forgetting it is so.

Do you know what happens when we stop giving thanks, and our praises fade and die? It doesn’t take long before we forget God’s role in every good thing we have. Our food, our money, and everything else we need appear to be the product of natural processes and our own natural skill and cleverness. What a dark and horrible faith that would be! All the burden to live, to eat, to survive would sit on our own weak shoulders, or worse yet, on the shoulders of other people who may or may not care about us at all! Wouldn’t that be a terrifying life?

What if something goes wrong with the environment, and there is no God promising that while the earth remains seedtime and harvest will never cease? What if something goes wrong with the economy, and there is no God promising to supply all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus? What if something goes wrong with the government and there is no Christ at God’s right hand ruling over all things for the good of his people? What if something goes wrong with my mind, my health, or my skills and there is no God promising, “Never will I leave you. Never will I forsake you”?

One of the benefits of our praise and thanks is that we are spared from that dark and horrible faith (or lack of it). It keeps us from forgetting all God’s benefits. It allows us to live each day in the joy of his grace.

2 Chronicles 26:3, 15-16 “Uzziah was sixteen years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem fifty-two years…His fame spread far and wide, for he was greatly helped until he became powerful. But after Uzziah became powerful, his pride led to his downfall.”

Uzziah had a great life, a great job, and he was good at it. As king, he strengthened his country’s defenses and beat their enemies when he went to war. He loved the land, so he dug wells, and promoted farming and livestock, and turned his country into an agricultural force.

As time passed, however, being the king was less of a calling for Uzziah, more of a way to stroke his ego. He used it to feed his sinful pride.

When sinful pride makes us full of ourselves, the problem never stops with sinful pride. Uzziah stopped being content with his calling. “He was unfaithful to the Lord his God, and entered the temple of the Lord to burn incense on the altar of incense. Azariah the priest with eighty other courageous priests of the Lord followed him in. They confronted him and said, ‘It is not right for you, Uzziah, to burn incense to the Lord. That is for the priests, the descendants of Aaron, who have been consecrated to burn incense. Leave the sanctuary, for you have been unfaithful; and you will not be honored by the Lord.’”

Not just anyone could serve as an Old Testament priest. You had to be a direct descendant of the very first high priest, Moses’ brother Aaron. Uzziah did not come from the right family or right tribe to be a priest. He was dabbling in things for which he had no calling.

As long as he had the skills, though, and he did it right, did it really matter? It mattered to the Lord. It still matters that we learn to be content with our callings.

I had a friend who wanted to be in politics. But you don’t just walk into the capitol and start attending sessions of Congress. You have to be elected. Today my friend works for an elected politician. It’s as close as he is going to come, it appears, and he can serve God faithfully if he is content with his calling.

The New Testament makes being male a qualification for certain church leadership positions. So Paul writes in 1 Corinthians chapter 14 and 1 Timothy chapters 2 and 3. We can question God’s wisdom in setting such limits. But God calls us to be content with our callings, even though that may mean limits on what we can do.

Somewhat ironically, since Jesus has come, God now claims us all as his priests. Our own bodies are the temples in which we serve. Peter writes, “You (you Christians, all of you) are a chosen people, a royal priesthood.” That’s not priests in the sense of professional clergy. But since Jesus is the Great High Priest for all time, and by his blood on the cross he has removed every sin that stood between us and God, we can bring our prayers and sacrifices to God directly. We offer our bodies to him as living sacrifices in thanksgiving for the gift of salvation. Our callings–father, mother, son, daughter, citizen, student, employer or employee–are the sacrifice of love that come from our spiritual priesthood. 

Uzziah wanted to try a different calling. Now God was going to give him one. But it wasn’t the calling for which he was looking. “Uzziah, who had a censor in his hand to burn incense, became angry. While he was raging at the priests in their presence before the incense altar in the Lord’s temple, leprosy broke out on his forehead…King Uzziah had leprosy until the day he died. He lived in a separate house–leprous, and excluded from the temple of the Lord. Jotham his son had charge of the palace and governed the people of the land.”

You know about leprosy. It was incurable. Lepers had to live apart from other people so that the disease would not spread. Leprosy meant that Uzziah could not serve as king anymore. His son Jotham took over the government. Leprosy made it very clear that Uzziah couldn’t be a priest. He couldn’t even go to the temple. He had to live by himself in his separate house. God had changed Uzziah’s calling. He lived the rest of his life as sick man, a patient, with his disease.

Was that nothing more than a punishment because Uzziah made God so mad? Actually, God struck Uzziah with leprosy because he loved him. If the Lord had let him continue with his pride, it would take him away from God. But we read about Uzziah the leper, “Uzziah rested with his fathers and was buried with them in a field for burial that belonged to the kings, for people said, ‘He had leprosy.’” Since he wasn’t actually buried next to the other kings, we don’t understand “he rested with his fathers” as a reference to a royal burial. His soul rested with his believing ancestors in heaven. In a strange twist, God used leprosy to help save Uzziah’s soul.

There are things about your callings that aren’t always fun. There are things about them that aren’t ever fun. The unpleasant parts of your calling probably aren’t as extreme as having leprosy. But they all serve to humble us. They expose our weaknesses. Sometimes they uncover our sin. They remind us that we must depend on God, and they drive us back to the cross where Jesus is always waiting with forgiveness and love.

What you and I need is rarely an escape to a different calling. What we need is to be content with our calling, because even when they humble us, God is using them to keep us close to him.

Philippians 1:13-14 “As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.”

If we are going to trust God and embrace the life he has given us, problems and all, it helps to know it serves some purpose. I can’t say that the Lord always tips his hand and shows us the specific good purpose for every unhappiness you or I have. Scripture proposes a number of possibilities. But the promise of Jesus and of his word is that God’s good purposes are always lying behind the problems he permits.

Paul saw at least two good purposes behind his imprisonment in Rome. Both of them had to do with the Gospel’s progress. Through his imprisonment, others could see Christ. “As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ.” It’s not that Paul had a chance to speak to all these people personally. But as his case became known, the reason this prisoner was in Rome became known to more and more people. Maybe they didn’t know the whole gospel yet, but the name of Christ, and the difference he made in one man’s life, was becoming clear. That paved the way for more mission work as others began to see Christ in Paul’s circumstances.

Can our problems have a similar purpose? You don’t know Marshall Shelley, but almost thirty years ago his wife gave birth to a little girl with a severely underdeveloped brain. As a result, this little girl developed frequent seizures, was unable to swallow, never really made use of her limbs or senses, and lived only two years. Mr. Shelley asked the question, “Could a sightless, wordless, helpless infant ever be a successful human being? If success is fulfilling God’s purpose, I consider Mandy (his little girl) wildly successful.” (Christianity Today, April 1993).

Why? During her short life in the hospital, her silent condition, and the faithful Christian reaction of her parents, brought Christ to the attention of many people. Friends in the neighborhood, at school, and even strangers in the grocery store would ask about her. Very quickly conversations about her medical condition turned to deeper questions about God and his purposes. At least three different hospital employees discovered or renewed a relationship with Christ as a direct result of their interaction with the family. Do my problems have any connection the Gospel’s progress? They do, when they help others to see Christ as a result.

They might even inspire brothers and sisters in the faith to speak about him! “Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.”

You might think Paul’s chains would discourage other Christians from speaking up about their faith. That is certainly what the enemies of Christianity have in mind when they persecute us. But threats, violence, and intimidation often have the opposite effect on the Gospel’s progress. Hardship has a way of weeding out the pretenders and the uncommitted. Bravery in one person inspires bravery in others.

Think about it. You might be entertained by “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” (Okay, I am dating myself). But the stories that inspire us, the people that move us to try harder and do better, aren’t the stories of people who had it easy. It is those who had it rough, who had all the odds stacked against them, who fought and struggled against the obstacles and overcame them, or died trying.

So Paul’s chains were inspiring others. “If Paul is willing to sit in prison instead of keeping his mouth shut about Christ, I can speak about my Savior a little more fearlessly, too.” How about us? Can we be inspired by his courage? Can the godly, faithful, courageous way in which we bear our own burdens and carry our own crosses inspire our Christian brothers and sisters not only to see Christ at work in our lives, but also to speak about him in their own? When I hear missionaries telling about the dangers they have faced, it doesn’t make me clam up. It makes me want to speak up! And we can do so in the relative safety of the United States.

In the same way, maybe our own problems can serve the Gospel’s progress and move others to live and speak their faith more fearlessly, too.

Philippians 1:12 “Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel.”

What happened to Paul was this: He was arrested for inciting a riot in Jerusalem that was started by others. Because of false charges and a corrupt justice system he waited for two years in prison for the opportunity to clear his name before the emperor. Now he was sitting under house arrest in Rome, 1400 miles away, and it appears that he had testified in at least one hearing.

This was not a situation Paul had sought. He didn’t go looking for trouble. But he did accept that, for two years, this was his life. Later he writes to these same Christians in Philippi that he had learned to be content in any and every situation. The Lord had even sent a prophet to inform Paul ahead of time that he would end up in chains if he visited Jerusalem. But Paul was convinced that God had called him to make this trip to Jerusalem. If that meant arrest and prison, Paul was willing to accept it. It wouldn’t be the first time that preaching the gospel got him into trouble with the law.

What can you say about the place that Jesus and his love had taken in Paul’s heart? Here was a man who had really let go of the world for his faith. He wasn’t worried about how his retirement savings were doing, updating the kitchens and bathrooms in his house, whether his favorite team was going to make the playoffs, or how popular he was at school. He had one great love: his Lord Jesus Christ. He had one great goal: introducing everyone he could to Jesus and his saving sacrifice. If problems, and even prison, meant progress for this gospel–if it meant more people heard that Jesus was their Savior from sin–he was ready to say, “Bring it on!”

We have our own problems happening to us. You didn’t sign up for yours, did you? If someone said to you, “Stand in this line, and when you get to the front they will give you cancer, or diabetes, or high blood pressure,” you wouldn’t be volunteering yourself for that. If you were told, “Get in line here and receive a broken home complete with petty fights, unreasonable demands, unfair blame, and cruel insults,” you aren’t a willing customer. You aren’t going to plunk your money down for the book on how to be a socially awkward. You aren’t going to respond to the ad for less than average looks, where people might still say nice things about you, but “pretty” or “good-looking” is never going to be one of them.

You and I aren’t signing up for this stuff. But they still might be our reality. Can we be content like this? Even more, can we embrace our reality if this is what God has given us?        

In order to see past our problems, and embrace the life that God has given us, whatever it is, we need to see that we can trust God implicitly. We need to believe that he loved us so much that we can trust him even if we don’t understand why he lets all these problems happen.

Isn’t that exactly what we have in the gospel? Here we learn that in spite of our sin, God has never stopped loving us. He didn’t just look at our life from far away and shake his head. He came and shared it. In the person of Jesus, he transformed himself into one of us. He struggled with our problems. He experienced our temptations, even to the point of suffering with them. And he overcame. He lived a joyful life, a holy life, a giving and loving life through it all. Credit for this victory is his first gift to us.

Then he paid for the suffering we deserved. Like the Apostle Paul, he knew that the city of Jerusalem had bad things waiting for him. But Jesus embraced God’s will for his life, even if it meant suffering. He embraced the cross and death by crucifixion because this is how he rescued us from sin and hell. This is how forgiveness can come flowing from heaven in a stream so constant, so deep, and so wide that every sin we commit no matter how big or small is swallowed up and disappears under the river of God’s eternal grace. When Jesus rose from the dead on the third day his new life promised us a new and perfected life to come where our problems, no matter how large they look now, aren’t even a memory anymore.

This is reason enough to trust God with the way he runs our lives.

Mark 8:27-29 “Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, ‘Who do people say I am?’ They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets. But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Peter answered, ‘You are the Christ.’”

If Jesus asked, “Who do people say that I am?” what would the answer be today? Some people want the practical principles Jesus. By listening to him and watching his example, they find all kinds of useful principles to improve their lives. Following Jesus can help businessmen with their leadership skills and time management. Eating like Jesus can improve your diet. Developing relationships like Jesus did might improve your family or your friendships.

Many of these observations may even be true, but we don’t really think that Jesus came as a business consultant, a dietician, or a family counselor, do we? It’s not wrong to learn these things, but if we don’t see him as something more, then he remains nothing more than a messenger. It is even possible that we will end up using him to turn in on ourselves, to become more worldly.

Then there is the moral police Jesus. In this view Jesus becomes the champion of sobriety, abstinence, celibate singlehood, modesty, and heterosexuality. He is the enemy of getting buzzed, promiscuity, adultery, homosexuality, and anything that denies the sanctity of life. You can’t deny that these lists of virtues and vices all reflect good, biblical positions. Read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, and then can you deny that these were Jesus’ morals, too?

But if that is all we see in Jesus–the man with the moral message– then our red hot zeal may easily turn us into prideful, spiritual bullies. Do we find Jesus trying to force himself on those who don’t want to hear him in the gospels? The answer is no. Is the tone of his ministry one of forcing the truth or trying to win people to it? If we get Jesus right, we see that he is not merely a moral messenger, especially not a mean-spirited one.

Still another version of “Who is Jesus?” is “the great humanitarian Jesus.” By word and example, he teaches us to be kind and generous. Isn’t this why Christians have historically built hospitals, shelters, orphanages, and soup kitchens? Isn’t this why Christians volunteer their time to help someone build a house, or donate their money to dig wells in third world countries?

But all our charity will never turn earth into a Paradise. Christian charity, by itself, never got anyone into heaven. If this is all we make of Jesus, a messenger of mercy, something still is missing. If we follow Jesus this far, but no farther, we still are just as lost.

So who is he, really? When Jesus puts the question to the Twelve, Peter gets Jesus right: “Peter answered, ‘You are the Christ.’”

Christ means “The Anointed One.” Among the Jews, the Christ was always understood to refer to a rescuer, a deliverer. The Messiah was coming to save his people, to free them from something they could not escape themselves. Getting Jesus right, then, always means that we keep the idea of delivering us and rescuing us in view–he does for us what we cannot do ourselves.

When the Jews heard “Christ,” they thought first of a king. We also say, “Jesus is my Lord.” It’s not the same thing as saying “I have a boss. His name is Jesus.” As our Lord, our King, Jesus fought to save us. He fought alone. He died in the battle. My King laid down his life to save an ungrateful peasant like me–not from invaders or criminals, but from the traps of the devil and the consequences of my own sins.

Since Jesus is the Christ, he rescues us as our Priest. Does that sound a little odd? “The clergy to the rescue!” There aren’t many action films about heroic ministers. But Jesus is the Priest who rescues us, and this is the heart of getting him right. When Jesus went to work as our Priest, he did more than lead a worship service, offer some prayers, and deliver a message. He offered his own body and soul as a sacrifice. The effect was payment for sin and forgiveness for the world. He rescued us from an eternity of death and hell.

Since Jesus is the Christ, he rescues us as our Prophet. The message he delivers is the message that assures us that he did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. It is the message of grace and faith that gets Jesus right.

Isaiah 35:4 “Say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.’”

“He will come with vengeance; with divine retribution,” Isaiah says. Does that sound right? “There’s that Old Testament God,” some people might say, “all wrath and judgment. He is nothing like the New Testament God of love and peace.” But Isaiah isn’t describing God as an otherworldly law enforcement officer who has lost his cool. He isn’t an angry policeman who snapped and now is beating some man in handcuffs senseless.

Vengeance and retribution, when God is dishing it out on behalf of his children, is simply a matter of justice. Don’t we still want a just God? Don’t we all have an inner sense that demands justice ourselves? A criminal in Texas admitted from prison that he shot a sixteen- year-old girl so that she would not testify against him at his upcoming trial. When she didn’t die immediately after being shot twice, he stepped on her neck until she stopped breathing. We all watched on video as a Minneapolis policeman kneeled on George Floyd’s neck until he expired. Do we really feel that it would be right to give all the guilty parties a free pass in cases like these? Is it only a cruel and unenlightened heart, some uncivilized savage deep within us, that wants to see the guilty pay for what they have done?

Or do we recognize a sense of fairness in justice? Do we see that is better for the guilty themselves that they have to answer for their crimes, rather than to let them live with the illusion that their behavior was acceptable? Do we believe this even if we can’t bring them all the way to genuine regret for what they have done?

That introduces a scary thought. We have been guilty of our own sins. Should God bring his vengeance and retribution down on me? He would be completely within his rights to do so. But that isn’t what happened when he came the first time, was it? Jesus was the only man who ever lived who lived his entire life without owing anything to justice. He committed no crimes to pay for, not even petty sins. Then he turned around and paid for all the crimes of everyone who ever lived. When our God came with his vengeance and retribution, he served justice on himself. He shielded us from the punishment our sins deserved by giving up his life on the cross.

Some might call that “unfair” or “injustice.” But God himself has taught us to call it “grace.” Our sins have not been approved. They have never been excused. But they have been paid for and forgiven. That’s why in Jesus, our God has come with justice and salvation. As Isaiah said, “He will come to save you.”

For one reason or another, most remain unwilling to receive the salvation God has provided. And for one reason or another, that makes them resent and persecute the children of God who do. Many times the people who do not love our Jesus will make us suffer. In response we will do all we can to help them find the same grace of God we have found. Since we remember that we were no better ourselves, we will pray for them, and plead with them, and patiently endure from them to help them find faith and forgiveness in Christ.

But where that fails, Isaiah’s promise applies again to make us strong and brave. In Jesus, your God has come. He came to save you 2000 years ago. Jesus promises that he will return. For us, too, your God will come. When he does, there will be justice for his enemies who make his people suffer.

The Apostle John assures us that even now the Christians who died for their faith and have found their place in front of God’s holy throne are praying, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” The Lord tells them to be patient, to wait a little longer. But he does not deny that the day is coming.

When our God comes, there will be salvation, deliverance, rescue, an end to every enemy that attacks us, body or soul. The issues that make you suffer now, whatever they are, are only temporary. Their end is only a matter of time.

So what are we afraid of? Why do we let life freeze us in fear? Your God has come. He will come again.

Isaiah 35:3 “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear;’”

Real life was beating up on many of God’s people around 700 B.C. Things weren’t right in their daily life. This little nation of Judah wasn’t a superpower anymore, the way it had been when David and Solomon ruled. It was a little doormat of a nation that kept getting run over by its neighbors. It could be demoralizing. It was leading to “feeble hands,” “buckling knees,” and “fearful hearts,” according to the prophet Isaiah.

For a smaller little group in Judah, the spiritual condition of the nation had a similar effect. People who took the word of God seriously were a dying breed. Some stopped going to the temple to worship. Those who did go were often just hypocrites going through the motions. The little remnant, the little minority of true believers felt weak and fearful as they watched their nation slip farther and farther away from their God.

Feeble hands, knees that give way, fearful hearts–sound like anyone you have ever known? I hear otherwise faithful Christians comment on the political situation in our country. Sometimes you would think God had resigned or retired from ruling the universe. The corruption of our politicians, or their incompetence, leaves ordinary citizens, even Christian ones, thinking that there will be no future for themselves or their children. Some give up on their responsibilities as citizens. Others are eaten up with worry.

I hear otherwise faithful Christians talk about the economy as though God had taken back his promise to give us our daily bread. I don’t want to deny the real hardship many families experience, but doesn’t God still promise to take care of me, even if my financial fortunes change?

I hear otherwise faithful Christians voice their disappointment over the way things have gone in their personal lives: a difficult marriage, goof-off children who make nothing of their opportunities, unreasonable parents, the difficulty of finding someone who is marriage material. They speak as though we had no loving Father in heaven who adopted us as his own children, no Savior who came and claimed us as his dear bride, no spiritual family to which God has attached us. It robs us of all our strength to keep working with the family and friends God has given us when we despair about a future we believe is doomed to misery.

I hear otherwise Bible-believing and faithful Christians comment on the cold and callous condition of contemporary Christianity. It is true that churches in many places are shrinking. False religions like radical Islam are spreading and growing. Our own church struggles on so many different levels. But withdrawing, giving up in disgust, and doing nothing solves nothing and serves no one. It just makes us weak and fearful.

I don’t want to deny that the situations I have described call for our urgent attention. They can be painful, even scary. But does God exist, or doesn’t he? Are we just going to let life turn us all into cowards? If the United States of America is supposed to be the land of the free and the home of the brave, shouldn’t the people who make up the church of God be doubly so–the home of the brave?

Isaiah says, “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear;’” These words don’t merely confront us, or mostly confront us. They are meant as an encouragement. But they do confront us too, don’t they? “You believe in an almighty God who loved you all the way to cross and death? Good. That is right. But then act like it!” Practice what you preach, so to speak.

The Apostle Paul once criticized the Christians in Corinth for acting like mere men. If that is all we were, just human beings and nothing more, then there would be a good excuse for weakness and fear. But we serve and worship the only God who really exists. All power in heaven and on earth belongs to him. He loves us unconditionally and sought us out to make us his children. He actually takes up residence inside our hearts where he now lives full time by faith. So what are we doing giving up, rolling up in a ball, surrendering the fight, going down in defeat like weak and fearful people who have no hope? God hasn’t changed. He still invites our trust. He still promises to act on behalf of his people.

Matthew 28:20b “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

In the Greek of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus literally says that he is with us “all the days,” but that is a little awkward way to say it in English. So even as far back as the King James Version we have simply said “always” in English.

It’s always less scary to face new challenges and big challenges if we are not alone. Through the years we sent our children to a Lutheran high school a thousand miles from home. One by one, we dropped them off and left them there while we returned home. At times it was a tearful experience, but we trusted daily exposure to God’s Word through high school was the best way to secure their faith and prepare them for Christian adulthood. It was always a little easier to leave them at school when they had an older brother or sister attending at the same time. They were not alone, and that gave us comfort.

As we go and tell the world the good news about Jesus, he promises he is right here with us. He does more than cheer for us from heaven. Of course, as the very Son of God he is present everywhere all the time. But more than that, he is with us in his Word and Sacraments– the very things we use to make disciples as we spread the gospel. Closer still, he lives in our hearts by faith. He is not merely a memory or idea. He is really and truly present inside of us wherever we go. With his presence all the time, we have all we need to introduce others to their Savior and his love.

So let’s go! Let’s not wait for them to come to us. Let’s find people, start a conversation, and give an invitation. Let’s get the gospel outside of our homes and churches into the neighborhoods and far distant countries. And let’s teach them what we know! Unleash the power of Jesus’ word on the lives of anyone willing to listen. He will be with us in this all the time, until he brings time itself to an end.  

Matthew 28:20a “And teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”

Jesus hasn’t sent us to win popularity contests. He has sent us to go and teach all his commands. If we do that faithfully we can expect that we are going to step on people’s toes. We may not be the most popular or fastest growing church in town. If we do that faithfully we can expect his commands to step on our own toes on a regular basis. If his commands don’t do that, how will we see our need to repent, or our need for a Savior? If his commands don’t do that, how can we grow beyond the baby steps in faith and life that we are already taking?

But not everything Jesus has commanded is full of law and condemnation. Sometimes even the gospel, God’s gracious call to turn to him for grace and faith, comes in the outward form of a command. After Paul met Jesus on the road to Damascus, and he was knocked off his horse and struck with blindness, the prophet Ananias came to him and said, “And now, what are you waiting for? Get up (command), be baptized (command), and wash your sins away (command), calling on his name.”

When Jesus wanted to leave us with the most personal and intimate way to receive and remember his saving grace, what did he say? “Take and drink (command), this is my blood of the new covenant, poured out for you for the forgiveness of your sins.”

When the disciples preached the way of salvation to the jailor at Philippi, the gospel came out this way: “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ (command) and you will be saved.”

You get it, don’t you? None of these are really laws that we keep. They are not paths for us to follow to save ourselves. They are more like a sweet invitation, an offer of almost unbelievable generosity, that stirs us, and draws us, and even changes us. “Miraculous” is not too strong a word to use to describe their effect on our hearts and on the hearts of those who hear us. Certainly rejecting these “commands” would be spiritually fatal, but everything about them is more like a promise of God’s love, and the granting of a gift. With them our Savior is not adding to our labors, piling on our work load, but bringing us rest for our souls.

At any rate, this is the content of our message–all that Jesus’ commands. With it Jesus has given us all we need to tell others the good news.