Make Disciples, Not Christian Nations

INTRODUCTION

It was quiet the day I stepped down from fifteen years in politics. No rally. No press. Just silence and the realization that I had been building the wrong kingdom. I thought I was serving God through political influence. But the truth is, I had stopped doing what Jesus actually commanded: make disciples.

I had a platform. I was in front of crowds of thousands—even 44,000 at one point. But I wasn’t introducing anyone to Jesus. And that emptiness finally broke me.

Here’s what the Holy Spirit pressed on my heart: Our problems aren’t policy issues—they’re heart issues. And Jesus never called us to build a Christian nation. He called us to make disciples of all nations.

One soul at a time.

Not through legislation. Not through political power. But through ordinary people who love Jesus enough to share Him with others.

The fields are ready. The time is short. And the mission is personal.

“Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” — Matthew 28:19–20 (NLT)

The Mission Is Personal, Not Political

It was quiet the day I stepped down.

No rally. No press. Just silence—and a stack of old campaign folders I hadn’t touched in years.

I had spent nearly fifteen years in politics. Candidate for the legislature. County officer. State executive board representing six counties in my congressional district. Various committee chairs and caucus chairs. Eventually, a state officer.

I thought I was serving God.

I thought my presence in those rooms was a form of ministry.

But as I packed up my office, preparing for seminary, the truth settled in like dust on my desk.

I was empty.

Politics wasn’t feeding my soul. My life was starting to fall apart. And somewhere along the way, I had stopped doing the one thing Jesus actually commanded me to do.

I hadn’t taught.

I hadn’t witnessed.

I hadn’t shared the gospel.

I had been busy. Respected. Strategic.

But not surrendered.

I recall standing before crowds—small groups at first, then hundreds, and finally thousands. The most I was ever in front of was 44,000 people. I had a voice. I had a platform. I had influence.

But I didn’t have fruit.

Not the kind that lasts.

Not the kind that fills heaven.

And in the emptiness of that realization, God whispered something I didn’t want to hear:

“You’ve been building the wrong kingdom.”

A Word to Those Who Love This Nation

If you’re reading this and you’ve poured your heart into making America a better place—I see you.

I was you.

You want righteousness in your land. You want your children to grow up in a country that honors God. You see the ugliness on the other side—the policies, the pride, the spiritual decay—and you think, If we could just get the right people in power…

I understand that longing.

I lived it.

But here’s what the Holy Spirit has been pressing on my heart, and I share it not to point fingers, but because I believe the time is short and the fields are full:

Our problems are not policy issues. They are heart issues.

And Jesus never called us to fix a nation.

He called us to make disciples.

Let me say that again, because it’s easy to miss.

Jesus never called us to build a Christian nation. He called us to make disciples of all nations.

There’s a difference.

A massive, eternal difference.

The Kingdom That Isn’t of This World

When Jesus stood before Pilate, the most powerful political leader in the region, He said something that should reshape how we see our mission:

“My Kingdom is not an earthly kingdom. If it were, my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over to the Jewish leaders. But my Kingdom is not of this world.” — John 18:36 (NLT)

Jesus wasn’t neutral about politics.

He was transcendent over it.

He didn’t come to lobby Rome. He came to love the world. He didn’t come to pass legislation. He came to pass through death and into resurrection so that every person—regardless of nation, tribe, or political affiliation—could be reconciled to God.

Think about that moment. Jesus stands before the man who has the power to release Him or condemn Him. Pilate has the authority to decide life and death in that region. And Jesus looks at him and essentially says, “Your kingdom? It’s temporary. My kingdom? It’s eternal. And they’re not the same.”

Earlier in His ministry, the religious leaders tried to trap Jesus with a political question:

“Tell us—is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” But Jesus saw through their trickery and said, “Show me a Roman coin. Whose picture and title are stamped on it?” “Caesar’s,” they replied. “Well then,” he said, “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” — Matthew 22:18–21 (NLT)

Jesus refused to be drawn into a political debate about Roman occupation. He didn’t say, “Overthrow Caesar.” He didn’t say, “Make Israel great again.” He said, in effect: “There’s Caesar’s economy, and there’s God’s economy. Don’t confuse the two.”

And when He left, He didn’t commission us to conquer governments.

He commissioned us to carry the gospel.

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere—in Jerusalem, throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” — Acts 1:8 (NLT)

Witnesses.

Not lobbyists.

Not culture warriors.

Not political operatives.

Witnesses.

People who say, “I have seen Jesus. I have been changed by Him. And I want you to know Him too.”

Paul understood this. When he wrote to the church—the church living under Caesar’s oppressive, pagan rule—he said:

“So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, ‘Come back to God!'” — 2 Corinthians 5:20 (NLT)

Ambassadors.

Not conquerors.

Ambassadors represent a foreign kingdom. They don’t try to overthrow the host nation. They speak on behalf of their true King and invite others into His kingdom.

That’s our mission.

What I Learned in the Emptiness

God used my years in politics.

I won’t pretend He didn’t.

He used every speech, every meeting, every moment of public pressure to strip away my fear of crowds. He gave me a voice I didn’t know I had—not for policy, but for proclamation.

That season didn’t bear fruit for the kingdom.

But it tilled the soil.

It broke me.

It prepared me.

Now, when I preach Christ, I don’t flinch. Not in pulpits. Not in public. Not in the face of power.

Because I’ve stood in rooms where Christ was absent.

And I’ve learned:

A platform without the gospel is just a pedestal.

And a pedestal without Jesus is a trap.

I thought I was making a difference. But here’s the truth I had to face: I was making noise. I was managing coalitions. I was strategizing for influence.

But I wasn’t introducing anyone to Jesus.

And when I finally stopped—when the noise quieted and the crowds dispersed—I felt the emptiness.

Not because I had failed politically.

But because I had succeeded at the wrong mission.

The Urgency of the True Mission

Here’s what keeps me up at night now:

While we’ve been fighting for Christian values in the public square, people are dying without Christ.

While we’ve been arguing over school boards and state legislatures, our neighbors are unaware of the name of Jesus.

While we’ve been trying to make America a Christian nation, we’ve forgotten to make Americans Christians.

And the fields? They’re ready.

“The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields.” — Matthew 9:37–38 (NLT)

The workers are few.

Not because we lack Christians.

But because so many of us are working in the wrong field.

We’re planting flags instead of planting seeds.

We’re claiming territory instead of claiming souls.

And meanwhile, people we know—people we love—are slipping into eternity without ever hearing the gospel from our lips.

What Jesus Actually Commanded

Let’s revisit the Great Commission. Not as a verse we memorize, but as a mission we live.

“Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you.” — Matthew 28:19–20 (NLT)

Go.

Make disciples.

Baptize.

Teach.

Notice what’s missing?

There’s no command to legislate morality.

No instruction to seize political power.

No strategy for Christianizing a government.

Just this:

Go to people. Tell them about Jesus. Bring them into the family of God. Teach them to follow Him.

One soul at a time.

That’s the mission.

And it’s personal.

It’s not about winning a nation. It’s about winning a neighbor.

It’s not about holding a majority. It’s about holding someone’s hand and saying, “Let me tell you what Jesus did for me. Let me tell you what He can do for you.”

The Difference Between Submission and Domination

Now, let me be clear: I’m not saying Christians shouldn’t be involved in government. I’m not saying we shouldn’t vote or advocate for justice or speak truth in the public square.

However, there’s a distinction between participating in government and expecting the government to do the work of the Church.

There’s a difference between being a faithful citizen and believing that political power will usher in the kingdom of God.

Paul wrote this to the church in Rome—a church living under the oppressive, pagan rule of Caesar:

“Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God.” — Romans 13:1 (NLT)

Submit.

Not conquer.

Not overthrow.

Not Christianize by force.

Submit.

Read that again. This wasn’t written to Christians living in a democracy where they could vote. This was written to believers living under Nero, a man who would eventually use Christians as human torches to light his garden parties.

And Paul says: Submit.

Peter echoed the same message:

“For the Lord’s sake, submit to all human authority—whether the king as head of state, or the officials he has appointed. For the king has sent them to punish those who do wrong and to honor those who do right.” — 1 Peter 2:13–14 (NLT)

And then Peter adds this:

“Show respect for everyone. Love the family of believers. Fear God. Show respect for the king.” — 1 Peter 2:17 (NLT)

Show respect for the king.

Not: Overthrow the king.

Not: Make the king a Christian.

Not: Turn the empire into a theocracy.

Respect the king. Fear God.

Because our citizenship isn’t ultimately here.

“But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives. And we are eagerly waiting for him to return as our Savior.” — Philippians 3:20 (NLT)

We honor our earthly nation. We pray for our leaders. We advocate for righteousness.

But we don’t confuse America with the kingdom of God.

And we don’t spend so much time trying to fix the government that we forget to share the gospel.

Paul also wrote to Titus, giving him instructions for the church in Crete:

“Remind the believers to submit to the government and its officers. They should be obedient, always ready to do what is good.” — Titus 3:1 (NLT)

Always ready to do what is good.

Not always ready to seize power.

Not always ready to legislate morality.

Always ready to do good—to love, to serve, to witness, to make disciples.

The Mission Field Is Right in Front of You

Here’s the beautiful, terrifying, liberating truth:

You don’t need a platform to preach the gospel of Christ.

You don’t need a political office to make disciples.

You don’t need a movement to be a witness.

You just need a heart willing to go.

To your coworker who’s struggling.

To your neighbor who’s lonely.

To the barista who makes your coffee.

To the family member who’s walked away from faith.

You don’t need to wait for America to become a Christian nation before you start making Christians.

You just need to open your mouth and say:

“Can I tell you what Jesus has done in my life?”

“Can I pray for you?”

“Have you ever considered what it means to follow Christ?”

It’s that simple.

And that’s urgent.

Because the time is short. And the fields are full of souls to be harvested.

“How can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? That is why the Scriptures say, ‘How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!'” — Romans 10:14–15 (NLT)

Someone has to tell them.

And that someone is you.

Not a politician.

Not a pastor.

Not a celebrity evangelist.

You.

Jesus was clear about the urgency:

“My nourishment comes from doing the will of God, who sent me, and from finishing his work. You know the saying, ‘Four months between planting and harvest.’ But I say, wake up and look around. The fields are already ripe for harvest.” — John 4:34–35 (NLT)

The fields are already ripe.

Not in four months.

Not after the next election.

Not when America becomes a Christian nation.

Now.

The person sitting next to you at work? Ripe for harvest.

The neighbor who waves at you every morning? Ripe for harvest.

The cashier who rings up your groceries? Ripe for harvest.

And Jesus is saying: Wake up. Look around. They’re ready. Will you go?

Peter understood this when he wrote:

“But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light.” — 1 Peter 2:9 (NLT)

Show others the goodness of God.

That’s the mission.

Not: Force others to live by God’s laws.

Not: Make the nation conform to Christian values.

Show others the goodness of God.

Through your life. Through your words. Through your witness.

One conversation at a time.

What If We Redirected Our Energy?

Imagine for a moment what would happen if every Christian who spent hours debating politics online spent that same time sharing the gospel with one person.

What if every dollar donated to a political campaign was instead invested in missions, in mercy, in making disciples?

What if every ounce of passion we’ve poured into winning elections was poured into winning souls?

I’m not saying politics doesn’t matter.

I’m saying souls matter more.

And if we’re honest, many of us have spent more time trying to change laws than we have trying to change hearts.

We’ve been so focused on making America godly that we’ve forgotten to make disciples who will make America—and every nation—full of people who know and love Jesus.

Jesus said it plainly:

“The Kingdom of Heaven is like a farmer who planted good seed in his field. But that night as the workers slept, his enemy came and planted weeds among the wheat, then slipped away.” — Matthew 13:24–25 (NLT)

The enemy plants weeds. That’s his strategy. And when the servants asked if they should pull up the weeds, the farmer said:

“No, you’ll uproot the wheat if you do. Let both grow together until the harvest. Then I will tell the harvesters to sort out the weeds, tie them into bundles, and burn them, and to put the wheat in the barn.” — Matthew 13:29–30 (NLT)

Do you see it?

We’re not called to pull up the weeds. We’re called to plant wheat.

We’re not called to purge the culture. We’re called to proclaim the gospel.

We’re not called to fix the world through politics. We’re called to introduce the world to the One who will return and make all things new.

Paul reminded Timothy of this:

“Preach the word of God. Be prepared, whether the time is favorable or not. Patiently correct, rebuke, and encourage your people with good teaching.” — 2 Timothy 4:2 (NLT)

Preach the word.

Correct. Rebuke. Encourage.

With good teaching.

Not with political power. Not with cultural dominance.

With the Word of God.

A Call to Reorient

So here’s my invitation to you, friend.

Not as someone who’s figured it all out. But as someone who’s walked the road you might be on right now.

It’s time to reorient.

Not away from caring about your nation. But toward the mission Jesus actually gave us.

It’s time to stop expecting the government to do what only the Church can do.

It’s time to stop fighting for a Christian nation and start making Christian disciples.

It’s time to get out of the war room and into the mission field.

Because here’s what I know now that I didn’t know then:

The kingdom grows one soul at a time.

Not through legislation.

Not through political power.

But through ordinary people who love Jesus enough to share Him with others.

Reflection Questions: Make Disciples

Pause here. Let the Spirit search your heart.

1. When was the last time you personally shared the gospel with someone? Not posted a meme. Not argued theology online. But sat with someone and told them what Jesus has done for you?
2. What would change in your life if you believed that making disciples was more urgent than winning elections? How would you spend your time differently? Your money? Your energy?
3. Who is the “one person” God is bringing to your mind right now? The neighbor. The coworker. The family member. The person who needs to hear about Jesus—not from a politician, but from you.

Witness Where You Are: Make Disciples

This week, I invite you to take on a simple challenge. And terrifying. And beautiful.

Ask God to show you one person—not one policy—who needs Jesus.

Pray for them by name.

Reach out.

Share your story.

Offer Scripture.

Invite them into grace.

Don’t wait for a platform.

Don’t chase a movement.

Be the witness.

Be the light.

Be the disciple-maker.

Because the kingdom grows one soul at a time.

And you were sent for this.

A Prayer: Send Me, Lord: Make Disciples

Pray this with me. Out loud, if you can. Let the words become your surrender.

Father,

You are holy. Your kingdom is eternal. Your ways are higher than mine.

Forgive me for chasing influence instead of intimacy. For seeking platforms instead of people. I’ve confused power with purpose, and I’ve spent energy building kingdoms that will not last.

I surrender my voice, my gifts, my story. Use me to reach one soul today. Not for a movement—but for Your mercy.

Help me go. Help me teach. Help me baptize in Your name. Let me make disciples—not headlines.

Give me the courage to testify. Grace to listen. Wisdom to speak truth in love. Let my life preach louder than my politics ever did.

Show me the one person you’ve placed in my path. Give me eyes to see them. A heart to love them. And boldness to share the hope that I have found in Jesus.

I belong to Your kingdom. I live for Your glory.

Send me, Lord.

I’m ready.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

A Final Word: Make Disciples

The Great Commission isn’t a suggestion.

It’s a command.

And it’s personal.

Jesus didn’t say, “Go and make Christian nations.”

He said, “Go and make disciples.”

One conversation at a time.

One life at a time.

One soul at a time.

The mission is clear.

The fields are ready.

And the time is short.

Let’s stop trying to conquer nations and start carrying our cross.

Let’s stop building political kingdoms and start building the family of God.

Let’s stop fighting for a Christian America and start fighting for the souls of Americans.

Because when we stand before Jesus, He won’t ask us how we voted.

He’s going to ask us what we did with the gospel He entrusted to us.

And I don’t want to stand before Him empty-handed.

I don’t want to say, “I was too busy with politics to tell anyone about you.”

I want to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

I want to see faces in heaven and know: I told them. I went. I witnessed. I made disciples.

And I want that for you too.

So go.

Not to the statehouse.

To the one.

The one who needs to hear that they are loved.

That they are seen.

That Jesus died for them.

That grace is real.

That the kingdom of God is at hand.

Go and make disciples.

One soul at a time.

Closing Thought: Make Disciples

The kingdom doesn’t need more voices in Washington. It needs more witnesses in neighborhoods. And you—right where you are—have been sent.

If you’ve read this far, thank you. My heart in every word is to reflect the love and grace of Christ—not just in theology, but in relationship. I write not to impress, but to embrace.

I pray that something here has reminded you: you are not alone, and you are deeply loved.

Grace. Always grace.

With love, prayer, and expectancy,

Bruce Mitchell
A voice of love & grace—always grace
Bruce@allelon.us
allelon.us

“Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love conceals a multitude of sins.” —1 Peter 4:8

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