You’re probably familiar with the Great Commission in Matthew 28—Jesus’ command to his followers to make disciples of all nations.
But what you may not know is that in Matthew’s Gospel, the Lord gives these marching orders on the heels of the Great Deception.
That deception is found in the verses immediately prior to the disciple-making mandate, when the soldiers who had been guarding Jesus’ tomb stand before the chief priests (vv. 11-12). The Jewish leaders pay off these guards to tell the public that Jesus’ disciples stole his body in the night, hiding the situation from the governor’s notice (vv. 13-14). Matthew concludes his account: “So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story has been spread among the Jews to this day” (v. 15).
Consider the stark contrast between these two commissionings: two sets of soldiers; one employed by the regime, the other sent as spiritual warriors in the Lord’s soul-winning army. Two motivations; one set of messengers paid off, the other freely giving what they had freely received. Two messages to spread abroad; one fabricated, the other eternally decreed by the unchanging God for our very salvation.
But why does Matthew include both accounts side by side? To make a point: evangelism is inevitable. The question isn’t whether we’re sharing a message with the world but whose message we’re sharing with the world. Either we will overflow with the gospel of grace or regurgitate the approved narrative of the regime. There is ultimately no in-between.
Or, put differently, missions is an inescapable concept. It is not a question of whether we will be on mission but which mission we will discharge. Either we will be used by the Lord in his grand, unfolding work to subject the nations to himself, or we will be pawns of a more nefarious kingdom.
Despite the ways in which we struggle with personal evangelism, every Christian aspires, on some level, to obey Paul’s exhortation to “do the work of an evangelist” (2 Timothy 4:5). It is not as though any sincere follower of Christ seeks to speak the gospel to others less. So why are we so often hindered in our public witness, losing credibility?
Perhaps we are spending our energies on the errands of another lord, lending the platform of our lives to the public relations specialists of the spirit of the age. Maybe we, though confessing the gospel with our lips, are inwardly, as Solzhenitsyn put it, living by lies. Or, more simply stated, perhaps we have lost our saltiness (Matthew 5:13-14).
Evaluate your commitments. Your social media posts. The signs in your yard. Are we spreading our Lord’s message unashamedly, or parroting the approved talking points of the powers that be?
We, like the 11 disciples who received Christ’s command on the Mount of Olives, live surrounded by cowardice. The temptations in the broader culture to take the king’s coin, be the king’s man, and stay silent have never been greater in our lifetimes. We need to know both what the Word of God teaches and how to articulate it sensibly, boldly, and faithfully to friends and strangers alike.
The good news is that the godless regime engulfing us does not have the final word. Jesus began his summons with this reminder: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). When, as the hymn goes, “earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,” Christ’s authority will endure. May we stand as though we truly believe it.