“Go Therefore”

I would like to read from the Bible in three separate portions, purposefully, so that I don’t do a lot of cross-referencing in a moment or two, and just very briefly, first, in Daniel. And if you choose to follow along, that’s fine. And if you don’t, I’ll just… Just listen.

Daniel 7:13. And Daniel says:

“I saw in the night visions, and behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him. And to him was given dominion and glory and a kingdom, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him; his dominion is an everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom one that shall not be destroyed.”

And then in the Gospel of Luke and in chapter 4, where we have the record of the return of Jesus to his synagogue in Nazareth. Luke 4:16:

“And he”—that is, Jesus—“came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written, ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and [recovery] of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’

“And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. And he began to say to them, ‘Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’ And all spoke well of him and marveled at the gracious words that were coming from his mouth. And they said, ‘Is not this Joseph’s son?’ And he said to them, ‘Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, “‘Physician, heal yourself.’ … We have heard [what] you did at Capernaum, do [it] here in your hometown as well.”’ And he said, ‘Truly, I say to you, no prophet is acceptable in his hometown. But in truth, I tell you, there were many widows in Israel in the days of Elijah, when the heavens were shut up three years and six months, and … great famine came over all the land, and Elijah was sent to none of them but only to Zarephath, in the land of Sidon, to a woman who was a widow. And there were many lepers in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed, but only Naaman the Syrian.’ When they heard these things, all in the synagogue were filled with wrath. And they rose up and drove him out of the town and brought him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they could throw him down the cliff. But passing through their midst, he went away.”

And then, finally, in the Gospel of Matthew and the concluding verses there in chapter 28. Verse 16:

“Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 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, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”

Amen.

Well, a brief prayer:

Father, what we know not, teach us. What we have not, give us. What we are not, make us. For your Son’s sake. Amen.

Well, as I said this morning, it is a privilege to share with you as a congregation. And to be invited to such a special weekend is a very happy thing, and it is a matter that I take both as a privilege, and I take it as a sincere and important responsibility. And I do want to say to you, especially as we turn to such a familiar passage this evening, that I hope it’s perfectly clear that I have not come here in order to tell you things that you have never known, but I’ve come here to remind you of things that you must never forget. And it is in that respect that we turn to this matter of the privilege and responsibility entrusted to the followers of Jesus by Jesus himself.

The Great Commission, as we refer to it, is really at the conclusion of all four Gospels and also at the beginning of Acts. Acts, you’ll remember, begins when Jesus says to them—sorting them out when they’ve got questions that there’s no real sensible answer to at that point—“You will be my witnesses … to the end of the earth,”[1] he says. “I don’t want you getting yourself all tied up in questions about the end of the world or what’s going to happen next. Just understand: You’re to be my witnesses.” He said to them in John’s Gospel, in chapter 20, “As the Father has sent me, … so I am sending you.”[2] In Luke and the twenty-fourth: “Repentance [and] forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in [my] name to all nations …. You are witnesses.”[3] In Mark: “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation.”[4] In Matthew: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” So Jesus gives to the church its marching orders. It could not be any clearer at all. It is not tucked away in a corner. It is front and center.

And yet, despite that fact, there is a measure of truth in the somewhat cynical statement that is bandied about from time to time—and I’m sure it’s not true of Duke Street—but you’ve heard people say, “Most churches think they’re doing fine because they don’t know what they’re doing.” You think about the church that decided it was going to build a new building. They had a series of motions: “We will commit to building a new building; we will build the new building on the site of the old building, and we will continue to use the old building until the new building is finally finished”—which just sums up the state and affairs of many churches trying to get themselves organized.

Or, perhaps, along similar lines, it’s possible for a church to have reached a certain point, a bit like the cruising altitude—which is nothing that we see here. That’s the end of all cruising as they come down here. But as you get up and on, eventually, you get to the point where the thrust is no longer what it once was. The things have been trimmed and evened out, and now we know that we’re at a certain place, and all being well, it’s quite comfortable. In the unlikely event of certain air and so on—we’re familiar with the story. And that’s really a dreadful place for a church to end up: cruising. You don’t want a cruising church. You don’t want a cruising pastor. You don’t want a pastor who’s just trundling out the same old stuff again and again because he hasn’t studied in a long time. That is the end. That is the death knell.

And so, as I thought about you, I thought, “What I will say to these folks… I have one shot at it. I will speak to them as I would speak to my own congregation and say, ‘I want to encourage you, I want to challenge you, as you look to the future as a church, to take really seriously…’” And I think Amos here gave us a little nudge, as our brother just acknowledged. There’s a lot of people who know about this church a lot of places, but there’s a lot of them up the high street that have never heard of it. It’s a good word. It’s a necessary word. It’s a Great Commission word.

And so, with all that said, I want to make three observations from the Great Commission as we have it here at the end of Matthew. And I’ll tell you what they are so that you know that we are making progress—or perhaps not making progress, depending on how things are going. I’m going to suggest to you that in this, first of all, we have a claim that only Christ can make; secondly, that we have a command that only Christ can give; and thirdly, that we have a comfort that only Christ can provide. All right?

A Claim That Only Christ Can Make

First of all, then, a claim that only Christ can make: “And Jesus came [to them] and said …, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.’”

Now, just allow that to settle in your mind for a moment. “All the authority in the entire cosmos is mine,” he says. No mere human being in their right mind ever made such a claim. No human being in their right mind ever made such a claim. It is a claim that only Christ can make.

At the very beginning of his ministry, the immediate reaction of the people, as we saw in that little incident in Luke—the immediate reaction of the people was amazement and was wonder: “This is amazing teaching! He’s teaching with such authority and not in the way that the religious leaders had been done.”[5] What was he saying? What does he declare? How does he begin? He stands forward on the stage, as it were, and he says—and this is in Mark’s Gospel—“The time is fulfilled, … the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe … the [good news].”[6] That’s not hard to understand—very, very clear. And immediately, the opposition of the devil, which had been represented in the wilderness, is now superimposed in the opposition of the demons that he silences. And then the brokenness and the chaos of the world into which he has come, it all comes to him. He begins to deal with their predicaments—heals them, sets them free, goes out in the late night and into the early morning to pray. His followers come to him and say, “Jesus, this thing is fantastic! It’s got off to a great start. Everybody is looking for you.” And remember what he says: “Let’s go somewhere else that I may preach the gospel, for that is why I have come.”[7] He wasn’t setting aside the impact that he had on the lives of these people, but he was making clear to his disciples what it was that he was doing.

And that’s why when he goes back, you can imagine the sign in the village hall, you know: “Hometown boy preaching this Sunday at the synagogue.” And the people would have come and said, “How remarkable is this? Jesus, the Nazareth boy!” And as he reads, and reads the scroll of the prophet Isaiah, and then as he sits down—and it’s no surprise—it says, “And the eyes of all … were fastened on him.”[8] What is he going to do? What is he going to say? How is he going to teach this passage? Nobody in the room—nobody in the room—could ever have been prepared for what he said: “Today this Scripture [is] fulfilled in your hearing.” And people said, “Wait a minute! This is amazing! This is wonderful!”

And then he turns the tables on them, and he points out that the gospel is going out to people that they had never encountered; to people they didn’t really like; to the idea of a Naaman, a Syrian of all people; to the woman in Zarephath. All they wanted to know was that when the Messiah came, he came for them; they would be okay; they could cruise for a while; it would all be sufficient.

And by the time he has gone, the entire trajectory… Immediate response: “This is fantastic!” And the end: like on Richmond Hill, they took him out, if they could, and threw him right down into the River Thames. “Get him out of here! We don’t want to hear any of this fellow’s nonsense anymore.” You see, the truth of the gospel divides people. The truth of the gospel actually calls it for people. It’s one of the reasons, sometimes, that we’re afraid to tell the truth: because we know exactly the dividing line that is created when the gospel of Jesus is proclaimed.

And in Luke chapter 24—I saved you that one. But we didn’t read Luke chapter 24. Remember the disconsolate folks on the road, and then the great Bible study of all great Bible studies, when he began with Moses and the prophets, and he taught them all the things in the Bible concerning himself.[9] Do you see what he’s saying there? He says to them, “You know, if you would read this stuff, you would read that it is all about me. It’s all about me!” Who can say that? That’s not conceit. That’s not ego. That’s divinity! That is Jesus: the Way, the Truth, the Life;[10] the Light of the World;[11] the Shepherd of his people;[12] the Bread of Life;[13] the Door;[14] the Priest; the King; the Savior. Jesus!

I’m carrying with me in my briefcase a book that’s just been written by a fellow in Scotland. It’s a book about preaching. But the title of the book is Why Are We Often So Boring? How do you get this boring? How do you get a story like this boring? How do you get something like this that you can just dismiss it—that people can just say, “Oh, yes, whatever”? It’s because we’re talking the wrong story. It’s because we’re talking about religion, and we’re talking about the social benefits of the gospel, and we’re talking about what it’s done for our families and how you can deal with your teenagers. Super! But that’s not the gospel. No, no.

And we haven’t told the gospel to people when we’ve told them the benefits of receiving it nor when we’ve told them the dangers of neglecting it. You can tell people, “You know, if you believe the gospel, it’s an amazing thing!” And then you can tell them, “And if you don’t, it’s a dreadful thing.” And they’re still sitting beside you on the train saying, “Yes, but excuse me—what is the gospel? You haven’t told me the gospel!” That’s what Jesus is sending them out to do.

Daniel. I love Daniel, don’t you? I love Daniel particularly, because everybody that I meet, they think they know the story of Daniel. They’re always telling me, “Oh, I understand Daniel. Yeah.” Well, you know, when I read Daniel, he didn’t even understand it himself! I mean, there’s a few times when it says, “And the word of God came to me, and I went to my bed for two weeks.”[15] Because it so overwhelmed him. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. Oh, it’s so good, isn’t it?

On the 17th, was it? No. Yeah, it was the 17th! On the 17th of September, in The Times, the weekend essay by A. N. [Wilson]… I wrote it down. I read the entire essay. I hope you did too. He’s talking about now that Her Majesty is gone, and now, as the focus comes on King Charles, he said, “It’s too much to hope [that] the King can save us from ourselves.”[16] “It’s too much to hope.” Absolutely right. Absolutely right.

You know, there was only one person to whom the Queen referred to as “Your Majesty.” Only one person. When she said her prayers, she said, “Your Majesty in heaven…” She made it clear in her funeral, didn’t she? I was talking to a couple of us today. She preached it in her funeral. Goodness, if she’d come out of that coffin and said it, she couldn’t have said it any better. “The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended.” Why did she choose that? “Well, it was at the shutting down of Hong Kong.” That’s not why. “Well, it was at Queen Victoria’s funeral.” That wasn’t why either. No. She didn’t tell me, but I’m pretty confident, and I’m going to check when I see her. But the fact of the matter is, you remember, “So be it, Lord”—“So be it, Majesty”—

      your throne shall never,
Like earth’s proud empires, pass away;
Your kingdom stands and grows forever
Till all your creatures own your sway.[17]

Fantastic! “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” That was the other one, wasn’t it?

Finish, then, thy new creation;
Pure and spotless let us be.
Let us see thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in thee,
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in heaven we take our place.[18]

Of course the King can’t fix us! But there is a King who can fix us.

And that’s the message. That is the King! And the King says, “Go.” And so the reason that we go is not to interfere in other people’s lives. It’s not to go and interfere with other people’s religious perspectives. It is to go because the King gave his command.

It’s the divine authority of Christ that provides us with the opportunity and the responsibility to evangelize.

A Command That Only Christ Can Give

That brings me to point two: that it is a claim that only Christ can make, and it is a command that only Christ can give.

“Go therefore,” he says. “Go therefore.” The “therefore” is tied to the claim that he has made: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore.” It’s the divine authority of Christ that provides us with the opportunity and the responsibility to evangelize, to tell our world—big world or little world, our individual worlds, our sphere of influence—the good news that God will forgive and reconcile sinners to himself through Jesus.

I don’t think it’s very difficult at the moment to get agreement with people that we meet in the common discourse of life—to get agreement about the fact that the world is broken, that it is actually broken. It is broken politically, socially, in many cases economically. People—young people—are being educated from the standpoint that leaves them with no understanding of their origin. They do not know where they came from. At best, they are the product of time plus matter plus chance. They are a bunch of molecules held in suspension. They don’t know where they came from. They have got no possible idea of any destiny. And consequently, they have no means whereby to make their journey, the arc of their lives, through the morass of everything that is pushed against them. And the church of Jesus Christ (this church in Richmond) is going to claim—is going to claim—that the King in whose person all authority in heaven and earth resides has charged them with the responsibility to make sure that the world knows that this is the case.

Fascinatingly, when you think about it… You say, “Well, don’t say ‘fascinatingly.’ We’ll decide if it’s fascinating.” Well, that’s all right. That’s okay. It’s fascinating, quite, to me at the moment. I’m just going to quote here from John 20 to realize what an amazing responsibility we have:

On the evening of [the] day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” [And] when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. [And] then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. [And] Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” And when he had said this, he breathed on them,

gave them a kind of little pre-Pentecostal hors d’oeuvre. “He breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” And then he said, “‘If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven …; if you withhold forgiveness …, [then] it is withheld.’”[19]

Now, Roman Catholic theology has taken that and determined that this is a unique responsibility that is entrusted to the priesthood. So, this is the confessional of Roman Catholicism: “Who has authority on earth to forgive sins?[20] Well, only Jesus does. But we’re going to get in the middle of it.” That’s the way it’s gone. And so that is what they’ve done with it. But that is not, clearly, what Jesus was saying. The promise that he is giving is a promise that he is giving to his followers. And he is about to unleash them on the world, and he wants them to understand how solemn their responsibility is. “If you receive the message of the gospel,” we are able to say to somebody on the train—“if you receive the message of the gospel, your sins will be forgiven. If you reject the message of the gospel, your sins will be retained. And God has appointed a day when he will judge the world, and he has given proof of this by raising the Lord Jesus Christ from the dead.”[21]

That is how solemn and amazing the responsibility is! It’s as significant as that: that once we have had our eyes opened to this truth, if our tongues are then tied and we have privileges in the responsibility of study or work or medicine or whatever it might be, woe betide us if we don’t take this up!

Think about Pilgrim’s Progress. Think about that guy with that big burden. I’m so old, the first Pilgrim’s Progress I ever saw was—it was on big glass slides, like this size. It went in some machine that had steam coming out of the top of it. I don’t know what was going on in there, but it was like—it was amazing! And I’ve got the picture in my mind of the man with a burden and the… And then it rolls away.

Think about your friends. Think about your children. Think about your neighbors. “Oh, hey! It’s a great day in Richmond Hill today! Yes, it is! We’re fantastic!” Don’t so fast!

Evangelism is not the responsibility and privilege of a few select religious professionals. Men and women will not turn to God unless we take the message to them.

Everybody has a wheelbarrow, if you want to change the metaphor. Everybody’s pushing a wheelbarrow, and it’s full of stuff. It’s full of good, bad, ugly, disappointments, regrets, fears, failures, sins. And everybody’s wheelbarrow is in need of somebody to come along and flip it and start it all over again.

I’m saying to you what the Bible is saying, what Jesus is saying: that this is a responsibility and a privilege not of a few select religious professionals. Men and women will not turn to God unless we take the message to them. How will they hear if nobody speaks to them?[22]

And the command is very clear. You say, “Well, you’ve talked about this, but you haven’t even said what the command is.” Well, no, but you can do that for your homework. You can see that. It’s straightforward, isn’t it? “I want you to do this,” he says, “and I want you to baptize them.” Baptize them. In other words: Make sure that they make a public profession out in the open, that they’re not secret disciples, that they actually are prepared to say, “Jesus has become my Lord and King.” And in that baptizing there is an identification with the visible community of God’s people. “I’m going to build my church,” Jesus has said, “and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.[23] And I’m going to use you in the building of the church. So make sure you baptize them.”

“And make sure that you’re teaching them”—teaching them these things, teaching them “all” these things, teaching them the basics of Christian doctrine, teaching them how important it is that God’s word is fixed in the heavens,[24] teaching them—catechizing them, if you like—so that we’re not just there to talk simply about “my experience” or “my story” but to be able to explain to people that our acceptance with God is not something that we have done. It’s not something done by us. It’s actually not even something done in us. It is something done for us. For us.

That’s why Luther said in many ways, my Christian life is outside of me. Think about it: In the middle of the week you say to yourself, “How am I doing?” You say, “Did I pray as much today as I should? No. Have I witnessed in the way that I could have? No. Am I showing kindness to my spouse? No, not so good on that either.” You go through the list, and all you’ve got left as you look into yourself is disappointment. And the Evil One comes and says to you, “You know, you’re just a walking disaster. You’re ‘partly truth and partly fiction.’”[25]

What do you say? “Well, I’m going to do much better next week. In fact, tonight, when I get home, I’m going to read three chapters of the Bible, and I’m going to send a letter to Mrs. So-and-So, because she definitely needs… ’Cause I saw her with her wheelbarrow today.” And so, in other words, what you’ve just become is Muslim. So you have now just changed your plan. It’s no longer there’s a cross in your program; there’s just scales. And so you say, “Well, I’ll have a much better week next week, and I’ll…” What are you doing? You’re looking in the wrong place. You’re not looking to Christ.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see him there
Who made an end [to] all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free,
For God the just is satisfied
To look on him and pardon me.[26]

So, when we go to these people, when we go to see unbelieving people becoming the committed followers of Jesus Christ, we need to be honest. We need to be kind. We need to be fearless in many ways. And we need to be very straightforward in letting them know.

Because it’s got to sting a little bit. It stung me a little bit, about that Sunday evening services, you know, in Richmond—you know, and “Look at this. Why are we not in Richmond right now?” “Well, we didn’t want to,” or whatever it might be. The same thing used to happen in Charlotte Chapel. When we were at Charlotte Chapel, we used to say, you know, “When Alan Redpath was here, whoa, those were the days!” you know. “We were down there when Alan Redpath… And Alan Redpath… It was Alan Redpath.” As if it was Alan blooming Redpath that was involved! Not for a minute! Not for a minute!

But the challenge is still there, isn’t it? There’s no less people in Richmond than there was when they had the evening services round there. There’s still a church in Richmond. There’s still people in Richmond that actually believe that the only person that could make the claim they made was the King, that the only command that we have really been given to settle is the command that he gave.

The charge of evangelism—to take the whole gospel to the whole world—has to be done by the whole church. The whole church. You say to yourself, “Well, I’m not fit to be a part of this.” That could be for a number of reasons: Because you’re not fit. Because you’re not actually a Christian; you’re an unconverted believer. You’re able to affirm certain things, you’ve been here long enough, you may be part of a Christian home—whatever it might be—and you say to yourself, “But I got nothing to say.” As Stott used to say, nothing seals the lips or ties the tongue like the absence of our own spiritual experience.[27] So that’s the first question to be addressed: “Have I come to know Jesus? Have I repented and believed, which was the message he conveyed?”

“Well, I’m afraid to take part.” Well, that’s okay. You’re in good company! You’re in good company. That’s why we just turned there to John 20 for a moment. The doors were locked on account of fear. I like bits like that, ’cause then I go, “Oh! This is good.” They were afraid. I like… I mean, when you think about the disciples, what a bunch! I mean, we can’t divert on it now, but goodness gracious! What a group! You know, Peter—you know, he takes one foot out of his mouth so he can put his other foot in. Some of us can identify with that. Philip asked the dumbest questions—you know, “Lord, show us the Father, and that will suffice.” And Jesus says, “Goodness! Have you been listening for the last five minutes, Philip?”[28] So on.

You know, their view of evangelism: They come back and say, “You know, there was really not much of a response. Would you like us to call down fire from heaven and consume the entire place?” You know? Jesus says, “No, I don’t think that’s the plan. Not today, anyway. No, we’re not going to do that.”[29]

“Get these children out of here,” said the disciples. “Jesus is doing evangelism.” Pardon? “Oh, yeah, bring the children. Bring them up. Yeah, Jesus wants to talk to the children.”[30]

These are the disciples. Some of them worshipped. Some of them doubted. Here we are, exactly the same.

And, you know, when you read the commentaries on John 20—especially some of them—they spend an inordinate amount of time trying to help us as the readers to understand how it is that Jesus got in the room without actually coming through the door, as if that was a miracle. I mean, the real miracle was not how he got in the room. The real miracle was getting the jolly disciples out of the room! For they had locked themselves away “for fear of the Jews.”

Is that a metaphor of some of our churches? It’s like, I say to my church, you know, “We’re in significant danger of giving up on any notion of being a lifeboat station, and this is pleasure cruising on Lake Erie.” Or, in your terms, “This is three men on a boat going down the Thames. This is Jerome K. Jerome. It’s happy time. We’re all together. Our children are good. Everything’s great. The world has gone to hell. I know. We won’t worry about that right now. We’re cruising down the river.”

Some [want] to live within the sound
Of Church [and] Chapel bell,

says [Studd].

I want to run a Rescue Shop
Within a yard of hell![31]

A Comfort That Only Christ Can Provide

Well, what they needed was God’s peace—Jesus’ peace, his power, his presence. And that’s why it speaks to the fact that it’s not only a claim that only he could make, a command that only he could give, but a comfort that only Christ can provide.

Matthew’s Gospel begins with the announcement that the word of the prophet had been fulfilled: “They shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.”[32] That’s how Matthew begins. Look at how Matthew ends: “You go, and I promise you, I will be with you.” He’s been preparing them for a bit for his departure, and now he explains that in a far more wonderful way than they could ever contemplate, his going made possible for them the experience of his presence.

And so it is, so it was, that the work that Jesus began was then to be continued through his followers. We read through the Acts of the Apostles, and I wonder if there isn’t something here that—sometimes I think about areas of spiritual geography that I perhaps haven’t entered into myself. I think maybe we need to think a little more strongly about the fact that it is in our going that we then have the experience of knowing his power and his presence—that it is as we go into that moment when you are brave enough to say to somebody, “Well, I know that you feel that very strongly, but have you ever considered the fact that Jesus made this amazing claim?” And in that scary moment, the longing to know the assuring presence of Jesus, as it were, as if he sat beside you on a bus—like old Dick Lucas does now, ’cause he’s ninety-seven years old. If he loves you, he just pats you on your knee, you know. It’s very reassuring. And you’re there on the train, and you’re about to launch off, and it’s as though Jesus came and put his hand upon your knee.

Jesus’ going made it possible for the disciples to experience his presence.

The X factor in all of this is not the competency of the preacher. It’s not the variety of the praise. It’s the authority of the presence of Jesus, the King. No voice of a mere man, however rhetorical the flourishes, however competent the fluency, can move, really, one person one iota closer to that which Jesus commands. That’s why, in some mysterious way, we have to ask that when we listen to the voice of a mere man, that we hear the voice of Jesus, so that we take it seriously.

Eric Liddell was one of my heroes, I guess, as a Scottish boy. Everybody in Scotland got the day off school when he died. I wasn’t old enough to have done that. But when he left to go to China, he left from the Waverly Station down underneath Princes Street there, underneath the castle. And the place was mobbed for his departure—not with people from his church. Because he was a national hero as an Olympic gold medalist and as a world champion. He was a hero as a rugby player for Scotland and so on. And when the whole crowd was there and he was on the train, he got the window down on the train, and to the assembled crowd he shouted out, “Christ for the world! For the world needs Christ!” And then he led them a cappella in the singing of the hymn “Jesus Shall Reign Where’er the Sun.”

That day is coming. But at the present time, we’re facing an unfinished task. And on a night like this, looking back with thankfulness, looking around at the opportunities, let’s look forward with a great sense of expectation. Let’s pray for God to come and do for our nation here what is so desperately needed and see lives touched and changed.

Father, thank you for the clarity of Jesus’ words. Any lack of clarity in this study is all mine. Grant that that which is of yourself may find a resting place, either to challenge, to encourage, to salve our wounded conscience—whatever it might be. And I pray for this church, Lord, having known it for virtually all of my life. I pray for the pastoral team here, for those who are in spiritual leadership, and for every member of the congregation—all the boys, all the girls, all those little children. I pray, Lord, that in these coming days, we might together see fresh evidences of your grace to us and through us. To the praise of your glory we ask it. Amen.

[1] Acts 1:8 (ESV).

[2] John 20:21 (ESV).

[3] Luke 24:47–48 (ESV).

[4] Mark 16:15 (ESV).

[5] Matthew 7:28–29; Mark 1:27; Luke 4:36 (paraphrased).

[6] Mark 1:15 (ESV).

[7] Mark 1:37–38; Luke 4:42–43 (paraphrased).

[8] Luke 4:20 (KJV).

[9] See Luke 24:27.

[10] See John 14:6.

[11] See John 8:12; 9:5.

[12] See Ezekiel 34:15; John 10:11, 14.

[13] See John 6:35, 48.

[14] See John 10:7, 9.

[15] See Daniel 7:28; 8:27; 10:8–9, 16.

[16] A. N. Wilson, “It’s Too Much to Hope the King Can Save Us from Ourselves,” The Times, September 17, 2022.

[17] John Ellerton, “The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended” (1870). Language modernized.

[18] Charles Wesley, “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” (1747).

[19] John 20:19–23 (ESV).

[20] See Matthew 9:6; Mark 2:10; Luke 5:24.

[21] See Acts 17:31.

[22] See Romans 10:14.

[23] Matthew 16:18 (paraphrased).

[24] See Psalm 119:89.

[25] Kris Kristofferson, “The Pilgrim, Chapter 33” (1971).

[26] Charitie Lees Bancroft, “Before the Throne of God Above” (1863).

[27] John R. W. Stott, Evangelism: Why and How (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1962), 29.

[28] John 14:8–9 (paraphrased).

[29] Luke 9:53–55 (paraphrased).

[30] See Matthew 19:13–14; Mark 10:13–14; Luke 18:15–16.

[31] C. T. Studd, quoted in Norman P. Grubb, C. T. Studd: Athlete and Pioneer (Harrisburg, PA: Evangelical Press, 1933), 170.

[32] Matthew 1:23 (KJV).