Feb. 8, 2026 - The Great Commission

There's something profoundly challenging about the beginning of a new year. We set resolutions with genuine intention, believing this time will be different. Yet by the second or third week of January, most of us have already abandoned those well-meaning commitments. Why? Because change is genuinely hard.

This reality mirrors a deeper struggle within American Christianity today—a struggle with active participation, genuine engagement, and authentic discipleship. The statistics are sobering: most Christians believe attending church once a month constitutes faithful worship. The average Christian gives only 0.8% of their income to the church. Ministries that once thrived are now dying off, not from lack of need, but from lack of willing servants.

Worship isn't simply a religious obligation we check off our monthly to-do list. It's a vital recalibration of our hearts, minds, and souls. Think of it as a spiritual reset button we desperately need in our chaotic, distraction-filled lives.

Worship encompasses so much more than listening to a sermon—whether good, bad, long, or short. It includes reading God's holy word, singing together, giving generously, and interacting as a community of believers. Each element works together to refocus our attention from the week's demands back to God's will and presence in our lives.

We need this hour more than we realize. We need it weekly, not monthly. Our souls require this consistent recalibration to stay aligned with our faith.

Beyond worship, we're called to be God's hands and feet in the world. This isn't optional—it's central to our identity as followers of Christ.

Consider the women of faith who, upon recognizing inadequate healthcare in their community, started what would eventually become a major hospital system. They didn't just pray about the problem; they became the answer. They engaged their faith in tangible service that continues touching lives today.

Yet we're witnessing ministries collapse not because the need has disappeared, but because people are unwilling to serve. Long-standing traditions end not from irrelevance but from lack of participation. The uncomfortable truth is that most parishioners come to be served rather than to serve.

When people don't come regularly and don't serve at all, the logical conclusion is decline and closure. This trajectory can only be reversed when believers get into the game—when we activate our faith through consistent worship, generous giving, and sacrificial service.

At the end of Matthew's gospel, we encounter what's known as the Great Commission. After Jesus had been crucified, risen from the dead, and spent forty days appearing to his disciples (sometimes walking through walls and announcing "peace be with you"—which surely required that peaceful greeting), he prepared to ascend to heaven.

His final charge to his disciples was clear: "Go into the world and make disciples of Jesus Christ. Baptize them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit."

But here's what's fascinating: in the original Greek, the best translation isn't simply "go" as a command. It's "as you are going." As you are living your life. As you wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, shop for groceries, attend doctor's appointments, or even play golf. As you are going about your ordinary life, make disciples.

This reframing changes everything. Jesus isn't calling us to become professional evangelists or to abandon our regular lives. He's calling us to live differently within our regular lives—so differently that people notice.

Jesus didn't say, "As you are going, preach dogma." He didn't instruct us to tell everyone what they should be doing, believing, or voting for. He didn't say, "Protect tradition at all costs" or "Argue about doctrine."

He said, "Make disciples."

So how do we do that? Consider this scenario: Someone is out enjoying their day off, meeting strangers, engaging in casual conversation. They're not perfect—they're frustrated, authentic, and human. Yet by the twelfth or thirteenth interaction, someone inevitably asks, "What do you do?" When they learn this person is connected to faith, the response often includes, "I knew there was something different about you."

That difference isn't about perfection. It's about presence. It's about how we conduct ourselves, what we participate in, our demeanor, our spirit, and how we treat others. People are attracted to something they can't quite name but desperately want.

As St. Francis of Assisi wisely said: "Preach the gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words."

The original disciples took this great commission seriously—devastatingly seriously. After receiving this charge, they scattered throughout the Roman Empire. Of the twelve disciples (including Matthias who replaced Judas), only one died of natural causes within Israel. The other eleven went to the ends of the earth and were martyred for their faith.

Peter was crucified upside down in Rome, feeling unworthy to die as Jesus had. Paul was beheaded in Rome. Andrew died in Greece. Thomas—doubting Thomas—traveled all the way to India, where he was run through with a spear. Remarkably, when missionaries reached a remote Indian church thousands of years later, they found Christians still practicing the "passing of the peace" that Thomas had taught them.

These disciples activated their faith in deep, profound, life-changing ways. They didn't just attend worship occasionally or serve when convenient. They literally gave everything.

We receive the same great commission today: As you are going, make disciples of Jesus Christ.

The question isn't whether God is calling us. The question is whether we'll respond. Will we commit to worshiping more than once a month? Will we give more generously than the average 0.8%? Will we stop sitting, expecting to be served, and complaining about what isn't happening, and instead get up and serve?

Will we get into the game and activate this thing called faith?

The trajectory of decline can be reversed, but not through wishful thinking or nostalgia for better days. It requires believers who live so authentically, so differently, that people notice something compelling about us—and want what we have.

As you are going—living your ordinary, extraordinary life—make disciples. The world is watching, waiting, and desperately needing to see faith that transforms how we live, love, and serve.