⎫    the presence, or nearness, of the kingdom of God, the present rule or reign of God;
⎫    Jesus role as Israel’s Messiah; our necessary historical and theological connection to Israel;
⎫    the provision of peace between Jew and Gentile that creates a new humanity;
⎫    God’s covenant promise to Abraham that God would bless the nations through Israel.
Don’t forget my earlier statements:
the definition of disciple rests on our understanding of the gospel.
And,
for disciples, the gospel we trust shapes the church we become and the message we live.
Has this simple gospel, joined together just a few core pieces of a complex and beautiful jigsaw puzzle, then proclaimed the puzzle complete, the picture whole?  Are there some vital missing pieces in this so-called simple gospel? If so, this not only distorts the message we share and places emphasis where it shouldn’t be. We miss the whole beautiful picture of salvation. As Bereans, consider whether
1.    This simple gospel is more about me and my happiness than about God and his purposes
2.    It’s more about individuals being saved more than about the creation of a restored community of God’s people living out Kingdom purposes
3.    It provides a way into heaven rather than the way into God’s life and his purposes right now.
A gospel that gets people forgiven and into heaven shapes a church and lives
1.    …more focused on people’s personal happiness than on God’s pleasure in and through His eternal plans and purposes for all creation.
2.    …more focused on saved individuals than on a called and restored community of God’s people
3.    …more focused on getting saved people into heaven in the future than getting redeemed people into life—into God’s life and God’s purposes—in the present.
4.    …that fails to move God’s people to fully engage in and with the world Jesus loves and died to save.
In place of this simple gospel, and here’s the homework for Bereans, I’m suggesting that the gospel needed to be a disciple who makes disciples is
the good news that, through repentance and trust in Christ, we receive
•    the forgiveness needed for an eternally-restored relationship with the Father,
•    responsible membership now in his redemptive community,
•    active participation now in his present Kingdom rule and
•    privileged partnership now in His ongoing plan to rescue all creation and reconcile all things to himself in Christ.
God loves his creation and has a wonderful plan for it…using us! That’s gospel, good news!

For disciples, the gospel we trust shapes the church we become, the message we live.

…the good news that, through repentance and trust in Christ and his death, we receive
•    the forgiveness needed for an eternally-restored relationship with the Father,
•    responsible membership now in his redemptive community,
•    active participation now in his present Kingdom rule and
•    privileged partnership now in His ongoing plan to rescue all creation and reconcile all things to himself in Christ.
Which gospel have you embraced?
Which gospel shapes Fall River Chapel?
Which gospel shapes the message you live out each day?
A gospel that trusts Jesus, sits and flies under the radar to await heaven? Or,
A gospel that, with forgiveness and eternity assured, thrusts you into community of God’s redeemed people who demonstrate represent the rule of the King in their own lives and engage redemptively with those whom God loves and misses.
* Which gospel produces disciples with the focused commitment to make disciples?
* Which gospel draws on all your passions, gifts, experiences, dreams and desires?
My challenge: embrace a gospel that not only gets you into heaven, but also gets you into life!The whole

In the years before coming to Fall River, I spent a lot of time reading, thinking, talking, and pondering what it means to be and to do church. My mind became increasingly filled with powerful images and ideas of what the body of Christ can be, should be and can do. Yet, when I arrived here, all those ideas and possibilities were like the many strands of this rope, each one important and part of the whole, but not fully connected and unified, threatening at times to unravel.

That August morning, God melted those loose strands and drew them together in one word—a tired word for some, not at all flashy, often over-used, misused, misunderstood: discipleship.

God fashioned that word into a sword and pierced my heart. I knew we were to spend time together considering its powerful implications. “But,” I thought, “Jeremy and I have already decided on James. It’s all planned out.” So, I decided I’d test whether I’d truly heard from God. I needed confirmation that it was God’s voice I’d heard, and not just spicy food from the night before. So I shared with Jeremy my encounter with God, what I believed I’d heard. And Jeremy’s response went something like this: “I’m preparing to preach in Tatamagouche, and the passage I’m wrestling with is Matthew 28:16-20. I’ve been asking myself, ‘What’s the mark of a successful church?’ It’s coming down to this: making disciples; a successful church makes disciples. In fact, the two books on top of my reading pile now are both about discipleship.”

Then, without my asking, God provided one more confirmation. I shared my experience with another friend, expressing some lingering uncertainty as to why I felt so convinced. He simply said, “Rick, that’s a word from God. That’s why it’s burning in your heart.”

So, today and in the weeks to come, our agenda will be discipleship: what it is, what it means, how it works, why it’s essential. We’re doing this because God has made it clear.

Last week Jeremy introduced us to the foundational passage for this study: Matthew 28:16-20,
But the eleven disciples proceeded to Galilee, to the mountain Jesus had designated. When they saw him, they worshiped, but some were doubtful. Jesus “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. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

The pivotal term here, the root from which all else grows, our entry point into the richness of being Jesus’ disciples is this: authority. As modern and postmodern Western people of the 21st century, we struggle with authority. In part, this is due simply to our sinful nature, that inbuilt and hardwired bent toward saying, “Not God’s will be done, but my will be done.”

The boss says, “No, I want it prepared my way!” Inside, we do a slow boil.

Mom says, “Clean your room up, now!” Outwardly, you might put your dirty underwear in the dirty clothes hamper v-e-r-y  s-l-o-w-l-y, but inwardly you’re trashing your room.

Come on, admit it! There’s something in us that likes authority only when we’re in charge!!

But, there’s a second element in our issue with authority. It flows from our culture of democracy and notions about human rights, about social action and dissent, and our tendency to declare, Nobody’s got the right to tell me how to live!

During our years in Germany, we had to get our residency visas renewed periodically. The woman in charge of the local visa office didn’t like Americans. When asked why, she responded, “Because they don’t take ‘No!’ as an answer. When I tell them they can’t do something, they automatically start looking for some way to get around my decision.” They don’t know how to submit to authority. But, long gone are the days when the word of the King, or any other government official, functions as absolute law. The problem, however, is that this love affair with political and personal freedoms creates a mindset which says submission to any authority is optional, even God’s.

Let’s look for a moment at a brief encounter in Jesus’ life: Luke 7:1-10.
1When Jesus had finished teaching, he entered Capernaum. 2There a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. 3The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some Jewish elders to him, asking him to come and heal his servant. 4When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, “This man deserves to have you do this, 5because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” 6So Jesus went with them.

He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. 7That’s why I didn’t consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. 8For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

9When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” 10Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.

The central character is a non-Jewish military man, a centurion (like a Captain) who had charge over 100 soldiers. He’s got a problem: his servant is sick. In fact, this highly regarded servant is at death’s door. As the story unfolds, we discover the centurion isn’t a typical, coarse Roman soldier. He’s a good man. Jews normally would have absolutely nothing to do with non-Jews. Yet, those who carry the Centurion’s request to Jesus were Jews. They tell Jesus that this soldier is worthy of Jesus’ time and attention because he loves the Jewish nation (strange) and built the local synagogue, apparently from his own pocket (stranger).

In response to their request, we’re told simply that Jesus went with them. But then, in great humility, the Centurion sends more messengers who tell Jesus not to trouble himself by coming to his home. Instead, he declares, just say the word and my servant will be healed.

Just say the word.

Just say the word, and my servant will be healed. Why such a response? What did this Gentile comprehend about Jesus that others missed?

Just say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; I say to this one, “Go!” and he goes;  and to another, “Come,” and he comes; and to my slave: “Do this!” and he does it.

This soldier understood what authority is all about. He knew how it works. Authority flows with power through words. The one with authority speaks; the one under authority obeys. Speaking from his own experience of command, the centurion recognized the foundation of Jesus’ ministry was his authoritative word, fulfilled by the power of the Father. Jesus spoke; God’s power flowed, things happened: demons removed, sickness banished, disabilities vanquished, sins forgiven.

So what is authority?  The right and the ability to command obedience.

Jesus tells us that he has all authority. What does he mean? Here we touch the deep mysteries of the Trinity and the incarnation, of God the Son taking on flesh and blood to live among us.

1. As God the Son, Creator of all things, the second member of the Trinity who from before eternity exists as eternal God, he already had all authority.  For by him [Jesus Christ] all things were created, in the heavens and on earth visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities – all things were created by him and for him; he is before all things and in him all things hold together. And, this divine authority he set aside in the incarnation: mystery indeed.

2. As the Son of God, the eternal-God-made-fully-man-without-ceasing-to-be-fully-God, Jesus became the agent of his Father’s authority, living as humans were created to live: in obedient submission to and completely dependent on the Father. “Truly I say to you, the Son can do nothing of himself, unless it is something he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son also does in the same way.”

3. As God the Son, crucified, buried, and raised up from death, Jesus was given all authority. Because of a life lived by faith in complete dependence on the Father and obedient unto death on the cross, God gave him a name above all names, a name before which one day every knee will bow and tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. And we’re told also that …[the Father] raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every title that can be given, not only in the present age but also in the one to come. And God placed all things under his feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills everything in every way.

So, as he says in Matthew 28, Jesus really does have all authority: that which is His as God and that which He received as man. Mystery indeed.  And now, as head of the church, Jesus has the authority to give the church her marching orders. We can obey…or not. He alone can define the life and purpose of the church: be disciples who make disciples!   We can obey…or not.  We proclaim to the world that we’re the church of Jesus Christ. Okay, says Jesus, then prove it: be disciples who make disciples.

So, why do we find this so difficult to do? Why do we seem to take lightly, or even dismiss, Jesus’ authority? Because we still don’t get how Jesus’ authority works, in a manner radically different than the world. And, conditioned by the world, we fail to perceive Jesus’ legitimate right to command our obedience. Jesus whispers while the world shouts in our ears.

The world practices a coercive authority: coercive authority produces compliance almost exclusively through the use of power, force, and the threat of penalty and punishment. The world’s authority is always Power over…. Power imposed….

Earlier in Matthew, in 20:20-28, Jesus responded to a request made by the mother of James and John. Believing Jesus was about to set up an earthly political kingdom, this mom wanted her sons to occupy the seats of greatest authority. Jesus disabused her, and his disciples, of that understanding of the coming kingdom.

He told his disciples: you know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. In the world’s eyes, in the world’s system, authority is coercive, it’s power over others. But, Jesus’ authority is absolutely different, more powerful.

Jesus functions on the basis of Persuasive authority, This authority brings about compliance without force or intimidation. The power of persuasive authority is sacrificial love which brings about obedience freely given. True authority, according to Jesus, is Power under…, power that serves the needs of others. After reflecting on the world’s approach to authority, Jesus went on to tell his disciples: It’s not to be so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.

While the world shouts power over, power to demand and dominate and intimidate, Jesus whispers power under, power to serve, power to give up our rights. Obedience to Jesus’ command in Matthew 28, be disciples who make disciples, is God’s chosen method, the pathway to effectiveness, to impact and influence, to joy and life. But, because I’m influenced by the world’s perspective, there’s a part of me that would dearly love to coerce your obedience. Since I don’t have the raw power to do force you to obey, I could try to coerce your obedience through the power of guilt, through the power of unspoken, but clearly communicated, expectations, through the power of “should” and “ought to,” the power of judgmentalism and a critical spirit, the power  to suggest Christian living is more concerned with outward performance than with inward transformation.

I could do those things, but I won’t. They are lies and don’t produce anything good. Instead, I’ll point us to Jesus, to whom is given all authority and of whom it is said, Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood,  and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.

This Jesus, who whispers to us, is worthy of our willing obedience, a Jesus who exercises power under, not power over. A Jesus worthy of worship. A Jesus to obey. He has spoken; will we obey?

While using the discipline of Meditative Reading (lectio divina), the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead came alive, God spoke life into my dead soul. I was reminded of one simple truth, a truth that I return to again and again: life only and always comes from death! As one of my earliest mentors remarked, ‘Resurrection power works best in a graveyard.’

When word came to Jesus that Lazarus was not well, the message from his sisters stated: ‘Lord, behold, [Lazarus] whom you love [with brotherly affection] is sick.’ Jesus makes a cryptic comment that the sickness is not ‘unto death,’ after which we read, ‘Now Jesus loved [with divine, covenant-keeping love] Martha, her sister and Lazarus.’ The women were expecting a ‘natural’ response of healing from their dear friend, Jesus. What they encountered was a supernatural response of love, albeit it one that first had to meet death face-to-face.

To everyone’s surprise (except Jesus), Jesus delayed and Lazarus died. When he finally arrived, both sisters sadly remarked: ‘Lord, if you had been here [in our time, is the suggestion] our brother would not have died.’ To Martha, Jesus said, ‘Your brother shall rise again.’ Martha, overcome with grief, agreed that Lazarus would be raised ‘on the last day.’ Jesus responded again somewhat cryptically, speaking of those who, though dying, would live. Here’s how the story ends. After entering fully into the grief of his friends, weeping not only for Lazarus but for all those subject to death and decay, Jesus spoke those incredible words: ‘Lazarus, come forth.’

As followers of Jesus, we believe in a bodily resurrection, that moment when, in the twinkling of an eye, we shall be changed, when the perishable will put on the imperishable. This is our confident expectation, yet–as we learn from Lazarus–it is not our only hope regarding resurrection. Consider Paul’s prayer in Ephesians 1:18-20, ‘I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened, so that you may know…what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe, in accordance with the working of the strength of His might which He brought about when He raised [Jesus] from the dead…’.

On the basis of our identification with Jesus (Romans 6:1-11), God makes available to us supernatural power, power for living life as He calls us to live. However, this life flows from death: our own death to ourselves, our agendas, our pride, our need for comfort, our need for easy answers. In 2Corinthians 4:10, 11 Paul tells us that we are to carry in our bodies the dying of Jesus that the life of Jesus made be demonstrated in us. In fact, says Paul, God actually delivers us over to death to demonstrate the life of the risen Jesus. Earlier in the same book (1:8-11), we read that God puts us in circumstances beyond our control, beyond our resources, beyond our ability to cope. Why? So that we should not trust in ourselves but in a God who can even raise the dead.

God does not merely have a fond affection for us. He loves us with an everlasting, promise-keeping love, a love which says, ‘Yes, I want you to experience life, but My life will flow only from your death.’

The one who would save his/her life will lose it,
but the one who loses his/her life will gain it.

Go figure!

Whenever you speak of the person, it’s almost always in the past tense. That’s the way death is. The present experience is gone, leaving only the past with its stories, its memories, its unfinished work and unfulfilled promises. Hmmmm.

They were walking along a dusty road, to a village about four miles away. Feeling sad, they looked sad to the stranger who fell in step with them. Amazed at his apparent ignorance of current events, they launched into their story, the one with the unhappy ending. ‘Haven’t you heard about Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet?’ they asked. ‘We were hoping it was he who was going to redeem Israel.’

It is no surprise, convinced as they were of Jesus’ demise, that ‘their eyes were prevented from recognising him.’ While it’s a serious story, one can almost see the twinkle in Jesus’ eyes, and the chuckle just behind the words, when they challenged him with: ‘Are you the only one…unaware of the things which have happened…?’ Jesus’ response to them, shortened perhaps to keep from laughing out loud, was simply: ‘What things?’
Their encapsulated version of all that had transpired even included the fact that their short journey was taking place on the ‘third day since these things have happened.’ ‘In fact,’ they say, ‘Some of the women in our company are saying they had a vision of angels, who said Jesus was alive.’ Not given to believing such things easily, they admitted that some other disciples had viewed the empty tomb, ‘but Jesus they did not see.’ While not stated clearly, the inference is that the travelers put more confidence in the non-sightings of Jesus by their male colleagues than in the angelic encounter of the women.
We know the rest of the story. As the two travelers shared a meal at the end of the day with their new acquaintance, their eyes are finally opened. They realize they’d been walking and talking with the risen Jesus. The episode ends with the statement, used by many to underscore a passionate commitment to Jesus: ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was speaking to us…?’ While they were likely quite serious, there might also have been an element of: ‘Oh, I knew it all along. Didn’t I keep telling you, “We’re going to see Jesus today!”‘ The beauty of 20/20 hindsight.
My point? We tend to believe what we see while we disbelieve what we can’t see and are already predisposed not to be believe. Paul’s first prayer in Ephesians must become our own:
I pray that the eyes of [our] heart may be enlightened, that we may know what is the hope of his calling, what are the riches of the glory of his inheritance among the saints, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power toward us who believe,’ a power like the same power that Cleopas and his friend almost missed.
To the disciples’ credit, they did ask their fellow-journeyer to share a bite to eat at the end of the journey. Jesus might have continued on but for their invitation. Finally, their eyes were opened. Finally, they recognised Jesus in their midst. Finally, they took note of their burning hearts.
Earth’s crammed with heaven / And every bush afire with God / But only he who sees takes off his shoes / The rest sit around and pluck blackberries… (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)