The concluding chapters of the four Gospels contain the final, sacred utterances of Jesus Christ—His parting words to a fragile group of disciples. While each Gospel record highlights a distinct facet of His legacy—John focuses on pastoral restoration (“Feed my sheep”), and Luke emphasizes waiting in Jerusalem for the empowerment of the Holy Spirit—Matthew presents the most structurally explicit blueprint for the Church’s mission. We historically refer to this as The Great Commission.
Yet, prior to delivering this monumental mandate, Jesus establishes His absolute authority: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). It is from this cosmic, resurrected authority that the subsequent directives flow: make disciples of all nations, baptize them in the triune name, and teach them to obey everything He commanded.
In the economy of Christian discipleship, education is never an end in itself. The ultimate objective of teaching the words of Jesus is behavioral transformation—leading believers to actually observe and embody His teachings.
However, modern Western Christianity frequently stumbles at the very inception of this command. We excel at establishing institutional structures, formulating precise doctrines, and clinging to rigid, legalistic formats. Like the Pharisees of old, we often fixate on the letter of the law while losing the heartbeat of human compassion. Jesus consistently demonstrated that the sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the sabbath; He routinely bypassed religious taboos to heal the broken and validate the marginalized. He prioritized mercy over ritualistic purity.
To execute the mercy of Christ, the Church must first grasp the linguistic and theological weight of the very first word of the Commission: “Go.”
1. The Linguistic Reality of Poreuthentes
In our contemporary translations, “Go” is easily read as a casual, active imperative—a polite suggestion to add evangelism to our busy schedules. However, the original Greek text reveals a profound theological truth.
While the surrounding verbs in the Great Commission—make disciples, baptize, teach—are written in the active voice, the word for “Go” (Πορευθέντες – Poreuthentes) is uniquely structured as a passive past participle.
Translating this nuance into modern English is challenging, but its theological implication is revolutionary: Going is not an optional track for elite believers. Rather, it signifies that because you have already been gathered, redeemed, and filled by the grace of God, your movement into the world is an organic, inevitable consequence. You are a people who are already sent. The act of going is the non-negotiable prerequisite; without entering the space of the other, discipleship, baptism, and teaching remain structurally impossible.
2. The Historical Illusion of “Come”
When we look at the historical trajectory of the Church, a tragic shift occurred in the fourth century. Prior to this era, the early Church existed under intense Roman imperial persecution. Deprived of societal privileges and institutional power, they possessed nothing but the raw mandate to go. They embedded themselves in the broken, plague-ridden, and marginalized sectors of the Roman Empire, winning hearts through radical love and sacrificial service.
However, when Emperor Constantine legalized Christianity, and it subsequently became the state religion of Rome by the late fourth century, the missional paradigm inverted. The Church shifted from a “Going” model to a “Coming” model.
Because citizenship required church attendance, millions flooded the sanctuaries by imperial decree. The Church suddenly wallowed in unprecedented wealth, political prestige, and institutional size. Grand, monolithic cathedrals were built in a competitive frenzy.
But history demonstrates that this numerical explosion was an illusion of revival. As the Church focused on managing the crowds that came, it abandoned the mandate to go. Spiritual vitality was bartered for institutional survival, and a deep moral decay corrupted the core of the ecclesiastical structure.
3. The Modern Crisis and the Incarnational Solution
Today, the modern Western Church is reaping the harvest of that centuries-old institutional inertia. In my own denomination (PCUSA), as well as in traditional mainline churches across Canada and the United States, we are witnessing a systemic decline. Sanctuaries that once echoed with the voices of hundreds are quietly shutting their doors. Hundreds of congregations are left without pastoral leadership, merely surviving on the fading remnants of past institutional glory.
The diagnosis is clear: we have insulated ourselves within our cultural comfort zones, waiting for a secularized world to walk through our doors. We have forgotten how to go.
To reverse this decline, the Church must reclaim the doctrine of the Incarnation. Jesus Christ did not remain in the pristine isolation of heaven, demanding that humanity ascend to Him. He emptied Himself, took on human flesh, and physically entered our messy, broken, and self-centered reality. He learned our language, sat at our tables, and understood our profound vulnerabilities.
If our churches wish to reach the next generation, college students, or unchurched demographics, we must replicate this incarnational movement. We cannot expect secular youth to adopt our 20th-century ecclesiastical culture before they can hear the Gospel. We must enter their cultural spaces, listen to their narratives, and seek to understand their anxieties. As Rev. Gradye Parsons, former Stated Clerk of the PCUSA, wisely noted: “The future of the Church depends on two things: how effectively we share our faith within our walls, and how deeply we are willing to listen to the stories of those outside our walls.”
Conclusion: Stepping Into the Margin
The Great Commission leaves no room for missional stagnation. “You Go!” is the foundational law of the Church’s existence.
Whether we are engaging the secularized academy at local universities or reaching out to isolated immigrant communities, our mandate remains identical: we must cross the cultural threshold. Let us repent of our comfortable isolation. Let us dismantle our legalistic expectations and step boldly into the pain, confusion, and culture of the world around us, carrying the transformative authority of the One who promised to be with us always, even to the very end of the age.