You are my all in all – Matthew 28:16-20, Psalm 8
One of my favourite stories of the saints is a story about St Therese of Lisieux, who was born in 1873 and died in 1897, and is revered by Catholics for the simplicity and practicality of her approach to spiritual life. As a child she was offered, by her older sister, Leonie, a basket filled with colourful ribbons and fabrics and asked to choose some. “No,” she said, “I choose all.” It was a childhood story that described Therese’s approach to all of life.
I included this story in my statement when I was accredited for Baptist ministry in 2003, twenty years ago this year. (Some of you will know that in 1999 a compromise was struck between those seeking women’s ordination and those opposed, that resulted in an accreditation process with ordination taking place at the local church level. It is interesting history in the light of what is happening now.) But this was my statement on that occasion:
This story of a child choosing ribbons speak to me of wholeness. I believe Christian faith is being filled with all the fullness of God (Eph 3:19)… being fully known (1 Cor 13:12)… grace upon grace (John 1:16)… Mary, in the garden, [looking for the body of her Lord but], finding her world had fallen together! Evangelicals often emphasise a dismembered faith – choose Jesus over life – but Jesus, incarnate as flesh, resurrected in the body, exercising healing and release, comes “That they might have life and have it abundantly”. (John 10:10)
Our gospel reading this morning, the final words of Matthew, is also a message about wholeness, about the breadth of grace, about life lived to the full, and about the constancy and continuity of God in Jesus. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit, who, to adapt the film title, are everything, everywhere, inviting everyone, all at once.
As commentator Richard Beaton points out, there are four ‘alls’ in this reading. Jesus has ‘all’ authority in heaven and on earth given to him. Therefore, we are called to make disciples of ‘all’ nations; who we are to teach ‘all’ that Jesus commanded, and, finally, we are promised that Jesus will be with us ‘always’. In his death and resurrection, Jesus has chosen all – all authority, all people, all of life, always.
So, what does it mean, firstly, that Jesus has been given all authority in heaven and on earth?
There are many strands to the word ‘authority’. It can mean the right to make decisions, or it can mean having the power to give orders and enforce obedience. To understand the authority that the resurrected Jesus now holds (it is clear from the passage that it is his death and resurrection that have conferred this authority on him) we need to look at the next phrase in this verse, ‘in heaven and on earth’. This is a ‘merism’, a figure of speech in which an entity is identified by means of its defining parts. This merism takes us back to the beginning of the biblical story, to Genesis 1, where heaven and earth were one single entity – God’s whole creation which, by Genesis 4, had been torn apart in the story of the fall and human rebellion and violence.
But in his death on the cross, in his resurrection and defeat of death and violence, Jesus has ended the division between heaven and earth, mended the breach between God and humanity. This is the authority Jesus now holds: the authority to make whole, to make all things new. And this is the authority we, as his followers, operate under. We are sent into the world bearing news, not only of salvation for human beings, but of the end of a broken creation. We are witnesses to God’s great work of reconciliation. The power we are given, as our psalm this morning indicates, is power to care for, to tend, to heal our world. This is the prayer we pray as Jesus’ disciples, “…your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven…”
Jesus chooses all authority to bring our world to wholeness.
Secondly, this message of wholeness for the whole world is – obviously – a message the whole world needs to hear. Verse 19 says: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”
This is what we celebrated last Sunday – the breadth of God’s grace – the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost on all people – the wonderful account in Acts 2 of the Spirit of God intentionally, deliberately, proclaiming the gospel in Parthian, Median, Elamite, Cappadocian Greek, Pontic Greek, Phrygian, Pamphylian, Egyptian, Old Persian, Latin, Minoan and Arabian…all the languages of the first century Mediterranean world.
And I have seen this happen over and over again in my own life. In my accreditation statement I describe my childhood overseas and Aron’s and my time in Japan…worshipping and working alongside people from many different nationalities and denominations. Love and respect for the God-given diversity of congregations,” I wrote, “women and men, young and old, different backgrounds, nationalities and learning styles – and their needs as whole people has characterised my subsequent ministries at Northside Baptist and…Seaforth Baptist,” and now – as I mentioned last Sunday – characterises our ministry here at Canberra Baptist Church – different people coming together to witness to the message of Jesus.
Jesus chooses all people as disciples because all of us are loved by God.
Thirdly, as Jesus’ disciples, we are to make disciples; to teach others ‘all’ that Jesus commanded. What is being described here is a ‘whole of life’ experience. As Jesus’ disciples we do not simply proclaim a shallow evangelism and we do not call people to a shallow evangelism, but we invite one other, we encourage one other in a whole of life transformation, a gospel that renews every aspect of our lives.
There’s a story about a young woman who became a Christian and applied for membership in a local church. “Were you a sinner before Jesus became Lord of your life?” asked an old deacon.
“Yes!” she said.
“And are you still a sinner?”
“Actually,” she said. “I feel like I’m a greater sinner than ever.”
“Then what real change have you experienced?”
“I don’t quite know how to explain it,” she said, “except I used to be a sinner running after sin, but now that I’m following Jesus, I’m a sinner running from sin!” She was baptised and became a member, and it was clear from her ongoing life, her ongoing life of following Jesus, that she was a person of faith.
What is so wonderful about this short passage is that it is very clear Jesus is not speaking to perfect disciples! Verse 17: “And when they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.” Most English translations give the impression the disciples as a whole included some worshippers and some doubters (i.e. “doubting Thomas” from John 20:24-29), but the Greek can also be interpreted that the whole group both worshipped and doubted. Either way, Matthew acknowledges that both responses are found within communities of faith – usually at the same time – then and now: that disciples are real people.
And Jesus chooses real people – Jesus chooses us – not because we have it all together – but because we can learn – from each other, from our lives, from God’s Word, from following him – all that he commanded.
Because, finally, Jesus has promised to be with us always. This closing statement in Matthew is perhaps one of the most comforting statements in Scripture. Just as Matthew begins in 1:23 with the promise that Jesus will be Emmauel, ‘God with us’, Matthew ends by promising us, ‘God will be with us always’.
In Jesus, God chooses all – chooses to make whole world whole, chooses to love all people, chooses to call real people – warts and all, and chooses to never leave us or forsake us.
How do we to respond to a God who chooses all?
In her writing, in Story of a Soul, Saint Therese responds in this way
This little incident of my childhood is a summary of my whole life; later on when perfection was set before me, I understood that to become a saint one had to suffer much… Then, as in the days of my childhood, I cried out: “My God, ‘I choose all!’ I don’t want to be a saint by halves. I’m not afraid to suffer for you. I fear only one thing: to keep my own will; so, take it, for ‘I choose all!’ that you will!”
My accreditation statement ends with different words, but a similar vein:
“As I find my life and wholeness in God, I am increasingly aware of the brokenness of the world. In the years to come I want to be part of God’s work of nurturing, healing, banishing fear and choosing all – not settling for a portion of what it means to live in God.”
Our God has chosen all of us and we are invited to choose all of God – all that life in God means and offers – in return. Let’s respond by singing together…You are may all in all.