The Greatest Job On Earth

THE HOLY TRINITY 

(Matthew 28:16-20)

In the days before it came under Communist rule, the board of directors of a large American company wanted to find a well-qualified man to handle their business interests in China.  He not only had to have the ability to speak the language, but he also had to be familiar with their customs as well.  Furthermore, the position required tact, a strong personality, and superior administrative skills and ability.  And for all of this, they were willing to pay a handsome salary.

One of the directors immediately spoke up.  “I know just the man we’re looking for,” he said.  “In fact, he’s already in China.  He knows their customs and he speaks their language fluently.  His present salary is only $600 a year, which isn’t his fault, but the fault of those employing him.

And so the directors voted to authorize this board member to immediately locate and personally interview this highly recommended and highly qualified candidate, and to hire him and even, if necessary, offer him a salary as high as $20,000 a year – an unheard of sum in those days.

After some months of searching, the director finally located this man, a missionary, in a remote area of China’s interior.  He told the man of the board’s offer and informed him of how eager the firm was to secure his services.  Then he asked the missionary, would he be willing to accept the position for a salary of $10,000?

The missionary shook his head, “no.”

“Well, then, would $12,000 be high enough?” the director countered.  Again, the missionary declined.

“I’ve come a long way,” said the American businessman, “and I don’t want to go back without some positive news.  Will you accept the position for $15,000?”  Once again, however, the missionary declined

“We have no other person in mind,” pleaded the businessman.  “Would you accept a salary of $20,000?”  But the missionary responded with a decisive and final, “No!”

“Why not?” asked the member of the board of directors.  “Isn’t the salary big enough?”  The missionary replied, “To be sure it is,” he said.  “In fact, the salary is far larger than the work would actually justify.  The trouble, you see, is not with the salary… but with the job.  The job isn’t big enough!  Proclaiming the Gospel, on the other hand… is the greatest job on earth!”

The greatest job on earth…  This past week I attended our daughter Sarah’s baccalaureate service and then, a few days later, her graduation from Parkview High School.  And I listened to a number of excellent speeches talking optimistically about the bright and exciting futures facing these 2008 graduates.  Parkview, as you may know, is the self-proclaimed “greatest school” in America.  And while humility may not be one of their attributes, Parkview’s faculty and students and alumni certainly do have a lot to be proud of.

It is no exaggeration to suggest that there are future scientists, engineers, lawyers, doctors, as well as future leaders of government and business among the ranks of those approximately 600 graduates; the movers and shakers of the next generation, both here in metro-Atlanta and probably throughout the country as well.  A significant percentage of them will undoubtedly go on to high-profile and even lucrative careers.  And many of them will seek after, and perhaps even secure, some of the so-called “greatest jobs on earth.”

But I am here to tell you this morning that none of these jobs – as high-profile and as lucrative as they may turn out to be – can make the claim of being the greatest job on earth…  You see, the missionary was right – there is no better job, or more significant job on earth – for a Christian at least – than proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Moreover, it is a job that is not limited to a select and privileged few – as many of the other claimants to the title “greatest job on earth” are.  Rather, proclaiming the Gospel is the primary vocation of each and every Christian, whoever they are and wherever they may come from; a calling that is inherent in our baptism; a calling that can and must be pursued, regardless of the job that actually puts food on our table and a roof over our heads.  In other words, no matter what career or profession a Christian may pursue in his or her life, proclaiming the Gospel remains our one and true calling.

In the end, if you’re a Christian, it doesn’t really matter what you did for a living, or how much success you achieved, or how much money you earned, or how many awards you won.  All that really matters in the end is – did you proclaim the Gospel?  Did you, in fact, go and make disciples, as Jesus commanded you?

Today’s reading from Matthew is probably one of the most memorable passages of scripture.  In these five short verses, Jesus lays out for us the entire mission and ministry of the Church; the whole reason for its existence.  In other words, if the Church isn’t following this command, if individual Christians aren’t pursuing this calling, then they are not who they claim to be.  These five short verses, then, serve as the litmus test of the Christian faith and life.

But sometimes, as Richard Carlson, Professor of Homiletics at Gettysburg Seminary has noted, “you’re got to wonder what Jesus is thinking.” Now Jesus does seem a little optimistic here, when you stop and consider for a moment what he’s saying.  I mean, really, did Jesus actually think that his followers would be able to go and do what he commanded them?

Carlson then goes on to observe that the Great Commission, from a realistic perspective at least, is a “recipe for disaster.”  It certainly doesn’t reflect the efforts of someone who has done any market research, or who knows what will and won’t sell to the general consumer, he says.

The first problem, according to Carlson, is a mediocre sales force, and one that is under-staffed as well.  The abilities, or shall we

say inabilities of the disciples, of course, are well documented in scripture.  Furthermore, our text tells us that only eleven disciples had journeyed to Galilee, and to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them.  Judas, of course, was no longer with them, which meant that Jesus had already lost 8.3% of his personnel before he had even started!

And when the eleven saw him, we are told, “they worshiped him; but some doubted.”  Mark Allan Powell writes in his book Loving Jesus, “…I want to note that the word some is not actually found in the Greek Bible.  Why is it in the English version?  Well, Matthew uses a particular construction here that allows translators to think that the word some could be implied.  He also uses that construction in seventeen other instances, though no one ever seems to think the word is implied in those cases.  It could be implied here, but why would it be?  I asked a Bible translator that question one time,” writes Powell, “and (I) got the following response: ‘The verse wouldn’t make sense otherwise.’  (So) I invited this fellow to visit a Lutheran Church.  (Worship and doubt simultaneously?) We (Lutherans) do it all the time.”

But Powell also goes on to point out that “doubt” in connection with our faith and worship is not necessarily bad.  To illustrate, he reminds us that the one thing the Pharisees in the Bible never did was doubt. They were always absolutely certain about everything.  “They are the ‘God said it, I believe it, that settles it” people of the Bible,” he writes.  “It never occurs to them that they might have overlooked something or misunderstood something.  As a result, they are often wrong, but they are never in doubt.”

“It might be going too far to say that doubt is a good thing,” concedes Powell, “but… Jesus never rebukes anyone for it.”  Doubt, he suggests “seasons” worship.  “…worship without doubt can be self-assured and superficial.”  But worship with doubt can “keep us grounded in reality.”

However, “doubt” is not normally included in the list of top characteristics sought after by successful organizations, is it?  The one theme I kept hearing from Parkview’s faculty, administrators, and highest-ranking students this past week was the need, instead, for confidence.  They urged the graduates to “believe in themselves.”

Nevertheless, Jesus seems content here to go with people who have some doubts.  As counter-intuitive as it sounds, he’s entrusting his entire mission, as Richard Carlson puts it, to “worshipful doubters.”

Now common sense would dictate that Jesus “dump” such doubters, and re-tool his organization with a crack team of the “best and brightest.”  Instead, he appears perfectly willing to waste his time with an unremarkable collection of the “least and mediocre.”

The next problem, suggests Carlson, is that Jesus’ marketing strategy is simply not doable. Go everywhere?  Make disciples of all nations?  That’s unrealistic and a needless drain of resources.  The goals of the mission need to be more focused and defined.  Otherwise there is very little chance for success.

And to whom is Jesus sending them?  Anybody?  Everybody?  No boundaries, no target audience, no market share formula?  What kind of sense does that make?

Finally, what is the ultimate outcome Jesus is looking for here?

Baptize and teach?  To what end?  For what purpose?  What is this “discipleship” thing all about?

Membership we understand.  Membership we can do.  Sign ‘em up, get their pledge, stick ‘em on a committee, and if you see they can’t say “no” then elect them to council.  But make disciples?  What’s that?

It turns out, of course, that it’s about a lifestyle, not an affiliation; a way of living, instead of merely belonging.  It’s about following the One who is the “way and the truth and the life”; the One who came to show us the way back home to the Father.

Teach them “to obey everything that I have commanded you,” said Jesus.  As Brian Stoffregen has pointed out, the word “obey” here can also mean to “keep” as in “to make into a keepsake,” or “to consider important,” rather than to just blindly obey.  Jesus isn’t looking for blind obedience here, he is hoping that people will cherish and embrace and embody his teachings.

And, once again, it doesn’t matter who you are or where you came from.  It doesn’t matter what you’ve done in your life, or haven’t done.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve made mistakes, or were too timid to even risk making any at all.  Everyone has been called to be a disciple of Jesus Christ.  And everyone who has become his disciple is then sent out into the world – even our own little corner of the world – to proclaim the Gospel and to make new disciples.

That’s who we are.  That’s what we’re about.  There are a lot of great jobs on this earth; some that even come with great rewards and honors and compensation.  But there is no bigger job, no greater job, no more important job, than proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ; to actually go and make disciples, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to cherish and to embrace and to embody everything Jesus has commanded us…

It has been said that the average person knows about 250 people; some more, some less.  And among those 250 people we know, there is undoubtedly someone who does not presently have a church home or a faith connection.  So if each member of All Saints, for instance, invited and then brought at least one person to our worship service, this church would be overflowing with guests and visitors.  And we would also be well on our way to fulfilling the Great Commission.

Edward Markquart, a Lutheran pastor out in Seattle, tells the story of once meeting the pastor of the fastest growing Lutheran church in the country.  And so he asked this pastor how it happened.  That is, how had they, in fact, become the fastest growing Lutheran church in the U.S.?

And it turns out that it was really quite simple, although perhaps not easy, especially for Lutherans.  But what had happened, you see, is that all the members of his church had caught the vision that they were each to bring at least one friend to church a year, all of them, no exceptions.  This pastor said that the most important thing that happened in his parish was the miracle of people catching the vision of bringing at least one friend to church during the year.

No hassling.  No arm twisting.  No false bribes.  No TV sets for the person who brought the most.  And he, the pastor, was like all the laity.  He, too, would bring at least one friend.  And the result was overwhelming.  These people have gone through a “paradigm shift,” writes Markquart.  They now see themselves as being evangelists; they have caught the vision of Jesus Christ.  In short, they now see and believe that proclaiming the Gospel is indeed “the greatest job on earth.”

Pastor Markquart also tells the story of once going on a trip to the Holy Land with members of his congregation years ago.  The trip was called “The Land of Jesus and the Cities of Paul.”  First, they experienced the places where Jesus himself had walked and talked.  Then, they had boarded a cruise ship and visited the cities in the Mediterranean where Paul had gone on his missionary journeys.

Now there were about 500 people on that ship, from all over the United States, but only one person that he didn’t like.  Normally, writes Markquart, I like all people.  But instinctively, he felt an immediate dislike for this one particular passenger, in spite of the fact that the man wore a clergy collar, and was obviously a pastor.

Several days later, he finally discovered who this man was.  His last name was Wurmbrand, and he was from Romania where he had been a victim of Communist torture.  In Markquart’s opinion, this Romanian pastor seemed to relish reliving and retelling the horror stories of being tortured for Christ in the Communist camps.

Apparently he liked to corner people in small groups, where they couldn’t get away, and then he would share his ugly tales that made even those with the strongest constitutions squeamish.

So he didn’t like this Wurmbrand, even though he had never met him, and he had managed to avoid him until one night, he and his wife found themselves sharing a table with him at dinner.  Two of Markquart’s parishioners, Orlie and LaVonne Swanson were also at the same dinner table that night.

Much to his surprise, however, he found the Romanian pastor to be witty and charming and intelligent as he told delightful stories that were not so squeamish after all.  In fact, he was perfectly delightful until, at the end of dinner, he leaned over to Orlie Swanson and asked, “Is that pastor over there (referring to Markquart) a good pastor?”  Orlie answered, “yes.”

Then Wurmbrand asked another question.  “Why is he a good pastor?”  And Orlie responded, “Well, he makes good sermons.”

Upon hearing this Wurmbrand focused his eyes on Pastor Markquart and then asked Orlie, not looking at Orlie but looking directly at Markquart, “But does he make good disciples?”

“In that moment,” writes Markquart, “there was a pause, a flash of embarrassment, and a little dagger went into my soul.  He didn’t say it, but he could have said that the purpose of the church is not to make good sermons, or good music, or good youth programs, or good sanctuaries.  But the purpose of the church is to make disciples of Jesus Christ…

“In that moment,” says Markquart, “(he) was the angel of the Lord to me…  He is still God’s messenger to me.  The purpose of God for all pastors and in all sermons is to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  People who love Jesus Christ, who follow Jesus Christ, who call Jesus Christ their Lord.  That is what we are all called to (do): to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  Not make church members.  Not make Sunday schools.  Not make buildings.  These can all become ends in themselves.  We are to make disciples of Jesus Christ.  That is what it’s all about,” writes Markquart.  And Wurmbrand, the Romanian pastor who had once been tortured for that same Jesus Christ, understood that better than anyone.

We live in a world, and in a society, that frequently attempts to identify just what among us is the greatest; the greatest school, the greatest country, the greatest movie, the greatest artist or musician.  And normally I’m bothered by it.  I personally don’t like to refer to anything as “the greatest.”  But with one exception.  Like that missionary, many years ago, I can’t help but conclude that proclaiming the Gospel is, in fact, the greatest job on earth.  And what’s more – the job is ours!

Amen