Watch Now
Go For Me
1 Corinthians | Acts | Baptism | Discipleship | Discipleship Matters | Healing | Hebrews | Holy Spirit | John | Mark | Matthew | Missions | Romans | Tyler Lynde
Discipleship Matters has been moving toward a clear destination, and this week it arrived with a simple, weighty invitation: go for me. Pastor Tyler Lynde closed the series by returning to the phrase the elders sensed for our future—crisis—and the conviction the Lord gave in response: sharpened Christians are best equipped for crisis. Not anxious Christians, not endlessly strategizing Christians, but ordinary believers honed by walking with Jesus. Tyler traced again the four-part path we’ve followed all month—come and see as invitation, follow me as imitation, be with me as transformation, and go for me as multiplication—and then lingered on that last step where conviction finally turns into movement.
To anchor the call, Tyler opened Mark 16:15–20, a passage he described as more like a field manual than a treatise. Where Matthew 28 sets the theological frame of the Great Commission, Mark sketches how the first disciples actually stepped into it and how Jesus met them there. “Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation,” Jesus says. That is not a suggestion or a personality fit; it’s a command. And it’s not limited by geography or preference. Tyler noted that some in our body are presently obeying that word across borders—Mark and Amy Medley traveling in Poland with future legs in India and Sri Lanka, and even a brief ministry trip sending Neil and Tyler to Puerto Rico—but he was quick to add that going requires no passport stamp. The command meets us at our front doors and in the places we already frequent. As you are going, make disciples.
If the charge is to go, the content we carry matters. Tyler was candid that niceness, while commendable, cannot raise the dead. The gospel is not “be kind,” nor is it our church brand, our politics, or our moral résumé. Citing Romans 1:16, he underscored that the gospel itself is God’s power for salvation. Then he let the apostle Paul define its core from 1 Corinthians 15: Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, he was buried, and he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures. The finished work of Jesus—perfect life, substitutionary death, bodily resurrection—stands at the center. That is the good news, and nothing needs to be added to it to make it potent. Because it’s finished, we do not save ourselves with spiritual effort, and we don’t save anyone else by mastering the perfect pitch. God saves by his word; we bear witness to it.
Tyler also pressed for clarity on the only right response: repent and believe. He read Jesus’ first proclamation in Mark 1:14–15 and explained repentance in everyday terms. It’s the highway U-turn when you realize you’ve taken the wrong exit and need to head the other direction entirely. Conversion is our willing response to this gospel, a sincere turning from sin and a trusting of Christ alone for salvation. Baptism follows as a joyful, public marker of that new life—an outward testimony to an inward grace. Tyler described it as taking faith public and prayed we would see many baptized this year, not because water rescues on its own, but because it declares Jesus’ saving work and invites the Spirit’s ongoing sanctifying presence. And he offered both relief and release: it is not our job to save anyone. We talk to people, not at them. We pray that blind eyes would be opened. We ask the Lord to reveal himself. Then we rest in the truth that results do not ride on our polish.
From there the message moved from why we go to how we go. Mark 16 closes with a promise that both stretches and steadies the church: “They went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by accompanying signs.” The risen Jesus works with his people. This is not a solo assignment but a partnership. Tyler connected Mark’s promise to Acts 1:8, reminding us that the Holy Spirit empowers believers to be witnesses in word and deed. Authority confronts darkness. Protection meets risk. Believers lay hands on the sick. Different parts of Mark’s list have been misused or misunderstood across history, but taken together they point to the same reality: the mission of Jesus is not talk alone. God delights to confirm his word. The greatest sign is still a changed life, and yet the church is called to expect the Spirit’s help as we pray for the sick, resist evil, and lift up Jesus with humility. None of this is pastor-only territory; it belongs to every follower of Christ. The safest place to be, Tyler said, is on mission with God—not because danger disappears, but because presence accompanies obedience.
The command to go, however, contends with real resistance in us. Tyler named four barriers that tend to dim our witness. First, the comfort of community can gently turn us inward. The early church loved Jerusalem so much that God allowed persecution to scatter them outward so the gospel would run. Comfort can cocoon us into apathy toward a lost world. Second, fear of the darkness grows in a media climate that thrives on panic. Tyler simply asked for discernment. Step outside. Ask for peace. Remember that Jesus still speaks, “Peace, be still,” and he does so through a church that refuses to let dread decide its schedule. Third, love of the darkness seduces believers into a split life—Sunday smiles masking weekday compromise. Jesus’ words in John 3:19 are unflinching: people love the darkness because their works are evil. The antidote is not shame but repentance and belief in the same gospel that saved us. If we want the world to see a different way, they must meet it in us. Finally, hatred of those in darkness takes root whenever we forget our own rescue. Tyler was plain: why expect unbelievers to act like believers? Disdain for “those people,” however we might define them, only proves how far we’ve drifted from John 3:16. God so loved the world that he gave. The church best reflects that heart when enemy-love becomes normal and the least likely become our most fervent prayers.
Tyler’s aim, though, was not to load us with conviction and leave us there. He offered a concrete, reproducible tool designed to turn going into a pattern rather than a moment. Small circles are intentionally simple: invite one person, ask them to invite one, and keep it at three. Read the Gospel of Mark one chapter each week. Write a short prayer in response. Note one insight that stood out and one practical application. Swap questions freely, especially with those new to Scripture. Then connect for a 20-minute call to share what you’ve written and pray for each other, and gather once a month in person for a meal or coffee. When you complete the journey, do it again with new people. Tyler emphasized the point beneath the format: anything not passed on isn’t yet discipleship. This keeps the Bible central, makes time manageable, and bakes multiplication into the DNA.
To help people connect, the team set up dry-erase boards in the lobby where anyone can write their name under statements like “I am discipling,” “I am being discipled,” “I would like to disciple,” and “I would like to be discipled.” The hope is that those new to the church or not yet connected will find natural starting points and that leaders can match people who need a circle. It’s a 16-week commitment, intended to run at least twice this year, and it aligns with our daily reading plan in Mark to make beginnings easy. On February 8, the church will gather to pray specifically for fresh boldness, asking the Lord to anoint this simple structure with the Spirit’s power. It is not a program so much as a pathway to practice the very things Tyler preached: read the Scriptures, obey what you read, and reproduce what you obey.
Threaded through the entire message was the insistence that Jesus is not merely asking us to go for him but to go with him. That shift eases striving and enlivens courage. When we “go with,” we remember that the Savior who ascended now sits at the right hand of the Father and still works with his church. He confirms the message. He opens doors. He protects and empowers. And he delights to use ordinary witnesses—praying mothers, kind neighbors, honest coworkers, missionary families, young adults calling friends to read the Bible—to carry an extraordinary word. Sharpened disciples are crisis-ready not because they’ve mapped every scenario but because they’ve formed the habits that stand firm when pressure rises: they know the gospel, they repent quickly, they pray with expectancy, they love enemies, they hold out the word of life without embarrassment, and they do it together.
Tyler kept the tone both bold and disarming. He admitted real fears and named real costs, but he refused to let either define our future. The darkness may feel louder, but light still shines through people, not programs. The results belong to God, but the going belongs to us. If crisis is coming, as the elders sensed, then the right preparation is the one Jesus modeled and commanded. Come and see. Follow me. Be with me. Go for me. The last step does not discard the first three; it completes them. Multiplication is what love looks like when it matures. And multiplication is what the Spirit loves to breathe on, turning small circles into widening ripples of grace that can steady a community, bless a city, and sound like good news in a fearful time.
Some will go abroad and return with stories of open doors in places we scarcely imagined. Many more will go next door and discover that God had been there all along, ready to work with anyone willing to open a mouth and a calendar. Wherever we find ourselves, Tyler’s counsel holds: preach the gospel clearly, call for the only right response—repent and believe—celebrate baptism as a living witness to new life, expect the Spirit’s help, and remember that we never go alone. In a world hungry for hope, Discipleship Matters becomes more than a series title; it becomes a way of life. And that life, sharpened by Jesus, will be ready for whatever comes.