“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
and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I
am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)
It
was February 7, 1999 and I was in my new office at Faith Lutheran of
Philadelphia, nervously awaiting the start of my Ordination Mass. Two months
prior I had been called to this parish by a unanimous vote of the congregation
following a call sermon I’d practiced the night before at the Cowboy Church at
the Cowtown Rodeo in Woodstown, New Jersey. As fellow pastors, seminary
friends, and my rather lengthy list of invited guests came to greet me before
the start of the service, Priscilla, a sweet little lady (now, alas, part of
the Church Triumphant) serving as a greeter, came to inform me in what appeared
to be a state of shock, “Pastor! A cowboy just came in!”
That
cowboy was Paul Graham, known around the rodeo as “P.G.” He was a retired calf
roper and husband of Susie, the rodeo photographer who coordinated worship
services at the rodeo before the start of each night’s festivities. After one
of these payer meetings held in a lean-to tent next to the rodeo office I
mentioned to P.G. that we seemed to be praying for an unusually high number of
injuries suffered by the rodeo contestants. He just shook his head and said,
“It’s all about discipline. These boys don’t ride every day. They think they
can come out here on a Saturday night and jump on a bucking horse or a bull
without getting hurt, but they haven’t taken the time to develop their skills.
You can’t just be a weekend warrior. You have to practice every day.”
I’d
say that’s true of our faith, too. It’s not just for Sunday. It’s every day.
In
the Gospel Lesson for Holy Trinity (Matthew 28:16-20), Jesus tells his
followers (and us) to “go and make disciples of all nations.” He doesn’t tell
them to go and make believers or make church members. He tells them to make disciples—a
word which comes from the same root as the word “discipline.” He’s asking us to
make and be people who live every day in the contemplation of the Holy
Trinity.
I
think we tend to think of discipline as something harsh and punitive. You know:
Puritans sentencing people to the stocks and pillory for missing church, a
six-foot nun wielding a ruler, or all the purity limus tests of the American
non-denominational evangelicals. I’d prefer to think of Christian discipline
more like the way P.G. talked about rodeo riding. Like athletes who love a
sport or musicians who love music, regular everyday practice is a necessity.
But it also becomes a thing of joy.
The
anonymous writers of our Celebrate inserts have summed it up very
nicely:
“More than a doctrine, the Trinity expresses the heart
of our faith: we have experienced the God of creation made known in Jesus
Christ and with us always through the Holy Spirit. We celebrate the mystery of
the Holy Trinity in word and sacrament, as we profess the creed, and as we are
sent into the world to bear witness to our faith.”[i]
The
Athanasian Creed[ii]
reminds us to worship the Trinity in unity. That is, we recognize as
holy sacred, and divine God’s creation, God’s word in Jesus Christ, and God’s
presence in us and all living things through the Holy Spirit. Should I sin
against my neighbor, I’ve also sinned against the Father God and against myself
because it is all one. If I sin against God’s creation, I’ve sinned against myself
and my neighbor—even those neighbors yet unborn and unbegot.
To
see everyone and all things as an expression of the divine requires a sense of
responsibility. It’s easy to compartmentalize our lives, but God can’t be put
into a box. Discipleship means we don’t say “Love thy neighbor” on Sunday and “Every
man for himself” the other six days. It takes discipline to see the sacred in
all things.
Two
things always amuse me. The first is when someone tells me they don’t like to
mix religion and politics. Okay. As an American I acknowledge that we are not a
theocracy, and our official public policy must not be governed by any one
religious idea or interpretation. My faith, however, will still influence my
vote, my advocacy, and my activities as a citizen. I will always support issues
which support justice, fairness, and mercy because this is what Christ calls for.
Not every religious matter is a matter of public policy, but every matter of
public policy is a religious matter because everything is, ultimately, a
religious matter.
The
other thing which brings a smirk to my face is when young people tell me they
are “spiritual” but not “religious.” I then ask them, “What is your spiritual discipline?”
They often look at me as if I were speaking Latin with a bad stutter. They don’t
understand that a spiritual life requires discipline—daily prayer, study, consistent
kindness, forgiveness, and generosity. It requires contemplation of the mysteries
of existence and the meaning and purpose of our lives. First and foremost, it
requires awareness of God. This is love of God’s creation, devotion to God’s
teaching in Jesus Christ, and appreciation of God’s presence in everyone and
everything around us.
Admittedly,
life is hard. P.G. might’ve said it’s like riding a bucking bull. It takes
daily practice to stay on and to climb back on when you’re thrown into the
dirt.
A
blessed Holy Trinity Sunday to you, my friend. Please drop me a comment or
question and do come by again. I love having you.
[i] If you’re unfamiliar, Celebrate is a 4-page
truncated breviary published by Augsburg Fortress to be inserted into the
weekly worship bulletins of ELCA Lutheran congregations. It contains the
appointed weekly lessons from the Revised Common Lectionary, the week’s
psaltery, the Prayers of Intercession, and a short gloss about each of the
readings. It also lists appointed readings for daily devotions and the
commemorations and saints’ days for the coming week. This quote is from the May
31, 2026 edition, Volume 57, Number 3.
[ii] The Athanasian Creed is, along with the Nicene and Apostles Creeds, considered one of the three fundamental ecumenical creeds of Christendom. It’s named after Saint Athenasius, an early Christian bishop who fought heretics for the doctrine of the Trinity. The creed has been used since the early 500’s. It’s really too long for liturgical use, and we ELCA Lutherans get a little skittish with it because it includes anathemas. It’s sort of “believe this or go to Hell.” It also emphasizes works righteousness. We prefer to leave all that judgment up to God. It does, however, nail down our understanding of the Trinity.
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