We’ve all heard the Great Commission—Jesus saying, “Go and make disciples of all nations”.
For generations, that’s been at the heart of the Christian faith. These days, a lot of Christians—especially younger ones—aren’t quite sure what to do with that command. Not because they don’t love Jesus, but because the way it’s been presented, and the institutions behind it, have gotten really complicated and evangelical Christianity has become really polarizing in some places.
It’s tied up with politics, culture wars, and assumptions that don’t always reflect what following Jesus is really about. And because of that, a lot of people feel nervous—or even ashamed—to share their faith. Not because they don’t love Jesus, but because they don’t want to be lumped in with something that feels harsh, judgmental, or just… out of touch.
Here’s the thing: faith in Jesus is still deeply compelling. But for a growing number of people, especially Gen Z and Millennials, the “institutional church” feels anything but. There’s a real tension here—people are drawn to the message of Jesus, but they’re skeptical (or even angry) about the structures and systems that have claimed to represent Him.
Why? A big part of it is moral failure. We’ve seen church leaders fall—some in truly devastating ways. Abuse scandals, financial corruption, power grabs, and the politicization of faith have done real damage. And it’s not just about a few bad apples. It’s about a widespread sense that the church has sometimes protected its image more than its people.
Young people notice. They care about integrity, justice, and authenticity.
So when they see a gap between what the church “says” and how it “acts”, they start asking hard questions—and honestly, they should. For many, that gap becomes a wall. They still believe in God, still feel spiritually curious, but they’re not interested in joining an institution that doesn’t live out the love it preaches.
So how do we talk about the Great Commission in that world?
First, we stop pretending. We have to own the church’s failures. Not defend them. Not brush past them. But name them honestly. Because here’s the truth: Jesus isn’t defined by the worst actions of the people who claim His name. In fact, He spent a lot of time challenging the religious leaders of His day when they misused their authority. He’s not afraid of our doubts or our criticism—He welcomes them.
Second, we remember that making disciples doesn’t start with a church program or a clever slogan. It starts with real relationships. People are hungry for hope, for purpose, for love that doesn’t come with strings attached. That’s the heart of the gospel. But if we want to share that in a world where the church has lost trust, we need to lead with humility, not hype.
Young people today want to see that Jesus changes lives in ways that are tangible and authentic—how we treat our neighbours, how we handle money, how we talk about justice, how we listen to people who disagree with us.
If we want the message of Jesus to be heard, it has to be seen first in how we live.
So maybe the Great Commission in this moment isn’t about saving face for the church. Maybe it’s about pointing people back to Jesus Himself—not an institution, but a person. A person who sees, who heals, who includes, who forgives. And who’s still calling us to follow Him—not just with words, but with lives that look like His.
Maybe the best way to live out the Great Commission is through relational authenticity. Not preaching at people, but being real about our own walk with God—the ups, the doubts, the moments of grace. People aren’t looking for perfect answers; they’re looking for honest lives.
So maybe sharing your faith today looks more like showing up, listening well, loving deeply, and not hiding the fact that your life is shaped by Jesus. Not in a loud or forced way—but in a way that’s natural, invitational, and grounded in relationship.
And that promise Jesus gave at the end? “I am with you always.” That wasn’t just for when things are going well.
That’s for the messy middle too—for the doubt, the rebuilding, the questions, and the slow work of earning back trust.
He’s still with us, even here. Especially here.
