Miller’s Station UMC | May 31,2026 | Anchor verses – Mathew 28:16-20 & 2 Corinthians 13:11- 13
Living in Community of the Trinity
Our reading today from Mathew captures the last words Jesus would speak to his disciples. Jesus’ parting words are commonly referred to as the Great Commission. I have preached this passage many times over the years around special mission days of the church, I have also preached it to confirmands and times we have renewed our baptism. Richard Beaton offers that the reference of the text is much broader. The text frames the basis for the communal identity and life together for the movement that will become the church. Four elements emerge that draw our attention. He goes on to offer that there are four “alls” in this text: Jesus has all authority given to him, we are to make disciples of all nations, we are to teach that we should obey all that he commanded during his earthly life, and the promise that closes is that he will be with us always. These four “alls” capture much of what the paragraph intends to communicate and also the central message of the Gospel of Matthew. These “alls” point to the unity that the Trinity creates and the inclusion that God intends in the kindom.
If those four “alls” show us the breadth of Christ’s authority, mission, teaching, and presence, then they also show us what kind of people we are called to be. Jesus sends us out not simply to grow the church in number, but to live out the way he taught us to live. To make disciples is to form communities that remember every person’s humanity, stand with those on the margins, and refuse the kind of judgment that shames or diminishes others.
It means learning to forgive, even when we have been wounded; speaking against oppression rather than remaining silent; setting healthy boundaries as an act of care; choosing kindness; honoring God; and above all, loving deeply and consistently. This is the shape of discipleship. This is what it looks like when the life of the Trinity begins to take root in us and among us.
These are our values as the church. They are the foundation of our calling to go into the world—not to force others into our way of thinking, but to open wide the door to God’s grace and invitation. The mission of the church has never been about power, control, or self-preservation. Jesus says, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” which means that authority already belongs to him. We do not need to grasp for it, defend it, or use it against others.
And that matters, because too often Christians have caused harm when we have confused the Great Commission with domination. But Jesus closes this command with a promise: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” We go not in our own power, but in his presence. And that presence is what makes true community, true witness, and true discipleship possible. When I think about how I am called to follow Jesus each day, I often return to the humility of Christ and the weakness of the cross.
Cultivating Community
As a Wesleyan, I will always turn to tradition, one of our cornerstones of our four point understanding of faith. The Rule of St. Benedict has long shaped how I understand Christian community. In my own Benedictine leaning, it gives us more than a set of ideas; it gives us a way of living together in Christ. Stability calls us to stay rooted—to remain with God and with one another when it would be easier to drift, withdraw, or keep things at the surface. Real community is not built in a moment. It is formed slowly, prayer by prayer, gathering by gathering, act of faithfulness by act of faithfulness, as we keep showing up for God and for each other.
And obedience, in this sense, is not about empty rule-following; it is about holy listening. It is about listening for the voice of God, and listening to one another with humility, tenderness, and care. Hospitality flows from that same spirit, because when Christ has made room for us, we learn to make room for others. We begin to welcome people with dignity, to see Christ in the stranger, and to build communities where people are not merely present, but truly known, truly valued, and truly loved. Church, this is the kind of community that forms disciples. This is the kind of life that bears witness to Christ in the world.
As I allude to in the title, we are a fractured people. The Pope recently spoke about how AI continues to divide us and replace our need for human connection. In the State of Pennsylvania, I recently read that the governor is suing AI for false medical guidance. As a clinician, I have witnessed how loss of human connection over the last 30 years of my career have ruined our mental health. We need what community brings and we need the guidance of the Trinity as a model of connection.
Faith in Practice: Spiritual Practices to Enhance Community Growth
I want to close by reflecting on four practices that can help us grow in community. When we give ourselves intentionally to these practices, they shape not only our life together as the church, but also the ways we show up with family, friends, neighbors, and strangers. And every time we practice them with care, we grow the kindom of God a little more in our midst.
Connections – Separateness is an illusion. That is one of the deepest truths this practice teaches us. Everything is interrelated—in time, in space, and in our very being. In a world marked by division, disconnection, and suffering, the practice of connection calls us back to our humanity. It reminds us that we belong to God and to one another. But this kind of connection also asks something of us. It asks us to hold a mindful balance between attachment and detachment, between opening ourselves to the pain of the world and tending to our own souls with wisdom and care. Prayer, mindfulness, and self-care become holy tools that help us stay present without being consumed. And in the Trinity, we see this balance lived out perfectly—each person distinct, yet never separate, each one moving in love with the others, guiding the early disciples and still guiding us now by the work of the Holy Spirit.
Hospitality – I have the Pali word, Namaste, tattooed on my right wrist. Namaste means, “the presence of the divine in me bows to the presence of the divine in you.” I have come to pray it this way: “the presence of Christ in me bows to the presence of Christ in you.” That is not just a beautiful phrase to me; it is a daily spiritual practice. It is one way I try to keep Chapter 53 of the Rule of Saint Benedict at the front of my conscience as I meet each client and each person placed before me. Hospitality begins there—with the choice to honor the dignity of the person in front of us and to receive them as one who bears the image of God.
I also practice what is known as deep ecumenism. First named by Matthew Fox and expanded upon by Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, deep ecumenism invites us to learn from other spiritual traditions and from leaders beyond our own. It helps cultivate hospitality because it teaches us to accept pluralism as part of the created order. And when we begin to understand that God’s care is wider than our own small circles—that God created not only for Christians, but also for Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, and Muslims—our world gets a little smaller, our hearts grow a little wider, and our fear begins to lose its hold.
And when we begin to see Christ in all people, something in us changes. We start to recognize that their suffering is bound up with our own suffering. Their dignity is tied to our dignity. Their healing is tied to our healing. That is how hospitality becomes more than welcome at the door; it becomes a way of resisting the radicalization and hard-heartedness of our time by bowing to the presence of Christ wherever Christ is found.
Listening – The Rule of Saint Benedict calls us to listen with the ears of our heart. That kind of listening is not passive. It is a spiritual discipline that deepens our ability to discern and counters the disregard so many people carry within them and experience from others. As a clinician, I have seen again and again that many who come for help were either never taught how to listen or have lost that ability somewhere along the way. Active listening asks more of us than silence. It asks us to be present, to respond with care, and to resist the urge to control or fix what we are hearing. And if I am honest, I think this is one of the reasons so many people have become disillusioned with the church. They do not feel heard. They do not feel attuned to. Too often, we church folk offer platitudes when what people truly need is space to feel, to speak, and to be held.
Unity – The phrase “no holiness but social holiness” has long stood at the heart of Methodist life. For the Wesleys, unity was never about sameness or forced agreement. It was about mutual affection, shared service, and a willingness to love one another across our differences. Wesley’s vision of a “Catholic Spirit” reminds us that our life in Christ is always larger than our narrow disputes. We are called to hold fast to love even when we do not think alike, because the church is not built on uniformity, but on grace.
If we are going to exist as Methodists in the 21st century and beyond, then we must remember our roots. Wesley’s societies were communities of prayer, accountability, and service. They taught people to do good, avoid harm, and care for one another in practical, faithful ways. Love was not an abstract idea in those communities; it was a lived practice. And if we are going to be the church in a fractured world, then we must recover that same commitment to shared life, shared witness, and shared care.
To foster that kind of unity in our present moment, we must commit ourselves to intentional acts of listening, bridge-building, and hospitality, especially toward those with whom we disagree. We need sacred spaces where diverse voices are welcomed and valued, and where reconciliation is sought rather than avoided. By practicing humility and being willing to learn from the experiences of others, we embody the spirit of social holiness the Wesleys championed—a unity not based on sameness, but on a shared commitment to love, justice, and the flourishing of all people.
And in times of adversity, unity becomes a witness. When we choose inclusiveness over exclusion and cooperation over division, we reflect the heart of Wesley’s vision and the deeper call of the Gospel. Church, when we practice these things day by day, we do more than preserve community—we become a sign of God’s kindom breaking in among us.
Friends, Paul today offers his goodbyes at the end of Corinthians, he calls us to restoration, to live in peace with one another and in doing so, the “God of love and peace will be with us.” We have been given a command to go and I have offered a blueprint, I challenge you then to go forth this week and practice what I have preached. Amen.
Benediction:
Go now in the blessing of the Triune God who draws you into the divine dance, inviting you to partner in God’s life-giving work to bring flourishing and abundant life to all creation! Amen.









