Trinity Sunday - Matthew 28:16-20 - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr

 

May 31, 2026 - Matthew 28:16-20

Some of you may have heard of Henri Nouwen. Born in 1932, he died in 1996. He was probably one of the most influential Christian writers of the twentieth century. Henri was a priest, theologian, and professor, and he wrote more than 40 books on spirituality, prayer, and Christian living. He taught at Yale and Harvard and lectured around the world. Despite his success and knowledge, Henri struggled with loneliness and insecurity, wondering, “Am I enough?” Much of his writing was about how we often struggle to understand and accept that we are unconditionally loved by God. In his book, Life of the Beloved, he writes, “Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the ‘Beloved.’ Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.”[1]

In 1986, Henri visited a L’Arche community in Ontario, Canada. L’Arche communities were unique places. They were communities where people with severe intellectual disabilities lived together with those who did not have disabilities. They didn’t live together as caregivers and clients but instead as a shared community. During his visit, Henri met a man named Adam Arnett. Adam couldn’t talk, and he couldn’t walk without help. He needed help with every aspect of his daily life.

Henri was drawn to Adam, and they became friends. A few years later, Henri decided to leave his academic career and move to the L’Arche community to provide full-time care for Adam. It was hard work for Henri. Work he wasn’t used to. He helped Adam get dressed, eat, take a bath, and go to bed, and at other times he simply sat with him. This famous writer, teacher, and lecturer questioned his new life revolving around tasks that, to him, didn’t seem to accomplish much.

Over time, Henri started to realize something. Adam didn’t care about Henri’s accomplished resume. He didn’t care that Henri taught at Harvard and Yale. He didn’t care about how many books Henri had written. The profound realization Henri made was that Adam was only interested in Henri’s presence. Nothing else mattered. This changed Henri Nouwen forever.

What Henri discovered through his friendship with Adam reminds me of what we read in Matthew’s Gospel today. Adam taught Henri that presence mattered more than accomplishment. Jesus gives the disciples this same gift. The eleven disciples are standing on a mountain, as Jesus had directed them. They have been through a lot with Jesus. They’d walked with him for three years, saw him crucified, and witnessed his resurrection. Matthew tells us that when Jesus came up to the mountain to be with them, some of the eleven worshipped him, but some doubted. Even after everything they had seen and experienced, they still had uncertainty. And now, Jesus is leaving them again. They have been commissioned to go out and spread the Gospel – sent.

One would think that the next words from Jesus would be a list of instructions. Maybe a detailed plan for every challenge they will face. Maybe how to navigate the road ahead. A list of provisions to take. Instructions for healing the sick. Conversations on how to tell the Good News of Jesus. But, no. Jesus leaves them with something else. He leaves them with something much better. “I am with you always.” Jesus says, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” It is a promise to them that they will never go alone.

Those are strong and assuring words. This is the belovedness that Henri Nouwen wrote about when he wrote, “Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.” While assuring words, they are also words that can be hard to understand. Words that are hard to accept. For the disciples, they would never see Jesus in the same way again. They would never walk those dusty roads with him. They would never sit around a campfire listening to his stories. They wouldn’t watch him heal the sick or calm the storms. “I am with you always” was different from that day forward. The disciples would have to learn a new way of experiencing Jesus’ presence.

I think that is probably our struggle, too. It’s easy to believe that Jesus is with us when life is going well. We can recognize his presence when our prayers have been answered and when we have healthy relationships. But there are those moments in our lives when we feel so alone, no matter what Jesus has promised us – in the hospital room, at the graveside, when we receive a diagnosis, through a broken relationship, and when we are uncertain about our future. There are days and nights when God feels so very silent. We wonder, is Jesus really with us? Where is God’s love?

This was Henri Nouwen’s struggle. Underneath all his accomplishments was a deep longing to know that he was loved, not for what he did, simply for who he was. Adam helped him discover that love. Adam valued Henri simply because he was there. Presence.

Jesus sent all the eleven disciples – those who worshipped him and those who doubted. He didn’t say to them, “I’ll be with you when your faith is strong.” He said, “Remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” This is good news for us. We don’t have to do anything to earn Jesus’ presence. We don’t have to be strong enough, certain enough, or faithful enough. Jesus is with us simply because of who Jesus is.

At the very beginning of Matthew’s Gospel, Matthew 1:23, Matthew writes, “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means, ‘God is with us.’” And now, the final verse of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Matthew’s entire Gospel is the promise of God’s presence. From the very beginning, the promise to us has not changed.

If Jesus’ greatest gift to us is his presence, then I think our greatest gift to one another is our presence as well. We had a record fifteen people at our healing service on Wednesday. What struck me wasn't simply the number of people who came. It was the feeling in the chapel on that day. There was a holy stillness, a tenderness in the room. People shared stories of illness, grief, uncertainty, and hope. Some spoke about times when someone showed up for them when they needed it most. Others shared how they had been the one to show up for someone else. No one was trying to fix another person’s pain or explain it away. And then we came together and prayed for one another. As I sat there, I thought, "This is what Jesus was talking about. This is what it looks like to be a community that believes Christ is with us always.” It felt like a room full of people practicing the ministry of presence that Jesus first gave to his disciples – and still gives to us today.

We live in a world that wants quick answers and easy fixes. We want to be the people who have the answers and can fix what is bothering or ailing people. But some of the holiest moments in life happen when someone simply stays. A friend sits by a hospital bed. A spouse listens without trying to solve the problem. A church member shows up with a casserole. Someone takes your hand and reminds you that you don’t have to walk through this alone. It’s in those moments that we catch a glimpse of the promise Jesus made on the mountain. Presence. That is ministry. Not having all the answers or fixing every problem. It’s simply showing up, staying, and being present. This is what Jesus does for us.

Jesus didn’t leave the disciples with a detailed map. He left them with his presence. And that presence is enough. Amen.

 

 

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[1] Henri J. M. Nouwen, Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 1992), 30.