Thursday, April 30, 2009

The Mature Disciple

I caught a tweet identifying the need for a definition or description of what a mature disciple of Christ looks like. (Yes, I am twittering now.  Even if you don’t twitter, you can follow me here.)  This has been something my mind has been mulling over for several months, years even, without a satisfactory conclusion.  So I wanted to post my thoughts here, in the hope that you can help me and I can help you sharpen your thinking in this area. 

Like the person in the tweet intimated, as a pastor I feel a need to identify the characteristics and qualities of a mature disciple.  After all, my call to ministry is to make disciples.  To do that, it is helpful to know what one looks like, so, in as much is possible, I can orchestrate events and experiences that provide opportunity for me and others to mature.  That’s where I start, but even as I write there is something inside me that screams “Noooooo!”

That approach seems a bit pharisaical in nature to me.  Once we identify what the marks are and are not of a mature disciple, does that not lend itself to an approach where people are identified, based on exterior appearances, as to whether or not they are “truly” following Christ?  Even if I don’t use it that way and only use it in reference to myself, does it not provide for sinful pride in what I have “achieved?” I think so.

Still, there is the need to understand what a disciple is in order for one to be one and for one to make one.

Lately I’ve been opting for a process based model of discipleship, but it has its flaws as well.  By process I mean to focus on what I believe every follower of Christ needs to do in order to mature – namely that which is found in Acts 2:42.

And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

I see four things here in which the early community of believers engaged that formed them into God’s community of people.  After coming to faith in Christ, then engaged in understanding what they believed, developing friendships with other believers, worshipping and communicating with God.  I think these activities, engaged with frequency and regularity, form the character of God within us so the outer expressions of maturity manifest as we inwardly grow close to God, but there are two problems with this approach.

This assumes that discipleship is about a growing intimacy with Jesus Christ.  I don’t see that as problematic. I see that as truth.  The problem is that we sometimes see the things we do to get close to God as an end in themselves. (i.e. Bible study, Prayer, Worship, Small Groups, and any other spiritual discipline you wish to name) This opens the door for another pharisaic trap that is very similar to one cited above.  That is to judge our maturity based on whether or not we engage the spiritual disciplines with fervor.  Unfortunately, we all know people who do these things faithfully but whose character is no more like the character of Christ’s than a toad is like a butterfly. (Another assumption I make about the being a mature follower of Christ is that such a person’s character exemplifies the character of Jesus.)

The second problem is the New Testament does show evidence of early instruction that is focused on behavior.  One need look no further than Paul’s exhortation to the Corinthians to “expel the immoral brother!”  So we cannot discount behavior all together. 

Several years ago I attended a church conference at Ginghamsburg Church.  I picked up a illustration which I believe was entitled, “The Anatomy of a Disciple.”  I’ve misplaced the original illustration, and this illustration I have I edited a bit.  I’m a bit embarrassed by the quality, or should I say lack of quality, of the clip art below. Still, it helps make a point.

Anatomy of a Disciple

The graphic above is a mixture of characteristics that may be desirable in a mature believer.  Some of these characteristics are observable while others speak to motive. It’s not really meant as an attempt to bring two divergent thought streams together, but I guess it could be viewed that way.

A couple of book resources might be helpful here.

“The Lost Art of Disciple Making” published by NavPress.  In its appendix it has a list of objectives to be achieved in the disciple making process. 

A second book would be “The Master Plan of Evangelism” by Robert Coleman and published by Revell. Don’t let the title fool you.  This not merely about introducing people to Christ but about how Jesus himself discipled others through relationship.

If you are still reading, you are a brave soul.  I recognize the above is neither well-written nor does it come to an adequate conclusion.  It’s just to get my thoughts out there to invite others into a process where we might help each other in our thinking. Having said that, I treasure your comments.

Friday, April 03, 2009

When God is Silent

Any disciple of Christ who has followed Jesus for some time will confess times in their journey when they felt God was nowhere to be found. For whatever reason, there was no sense of God’s presence in any of their endeavors to draw near to Him. Philip Yancey, in Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference, offers the following “survival strategies” for those times when God is silent, those times when our prayers seem not to connect. (pp. 202ff)

First, Yancey runs through a checklist of what might be blocking the communication.
  1. Is there deliberate sin or callous inattention to God? If so, the channel must be cleared through confession.
  2. He examines his motives. Am I seeking particular feelings? Am I pursuing God on my own terms rather than His? Perhaps I am seeking new revelation, when, instead, I should be focusing on the revelation that God has already given.
  3. Have I been pursing results from my prayer, rather than companionship with God?

Second, if he finds no reason for God’s silence from his checklist, he begins to treat the silence in prayer the same way he treats suffering. Saying it does little good to ponder the “Why?” questions of suffering, he points out that the Bible moves the emphasis from the past to the future. The Bible, particularly the New Testament, talks of the future benefit of present suffering: character, hope, perseverance, etc. In like fashion, Yancey asks God to use this time of spiritual dryness for future growth.

A final survival strategy he uses is to rely on the faith of others. Pointing out that the Bible gives strong emphasis to the practice of praying with others, he talks about the help he has gained by praying with others who are currently not experiencing the dryness he is experiencing. “At times, when I have no words and my faith falters, I find solace in listening to the prayers of others and realizing that not everyone is sharing my sense of desolation.” The most meaningful prayer in many churches is prayer like this, prayer that happens in the context of a small group when someone takes the vulnerable step of confessing to the group a recurring failure and asking for help. Everything else is pushed to the side while the group lovingly lifts up “a friend” to the One who cares most.

When God is silent, we often assume there is fault on our end, rather than realizing there may be purpose or something else on God’s end. Yancey speaks of a pair of red foxes on the hill behind his mountain home that raises a litter of kits each spring. They have become accustomed to his roaming the hill and occasionally stopping in front of their den. Sometimes the young ones poke their faces out at him. Sometimes he can hear them scurrying around in the den. Sometimes there is only silence.

In taking a friend to see them, he reminds the friend that there is no guarantee they will see anything. “They are wild animals, you know. We’re not in charge. It’s up to them whether they make an appearance or not.” (p. 207) Weeks later his friend wrote him about that moment and how it helped him understand God. His friend had just gone through a long season of depression. Sometimes God felt very close, and at other times he had no sense of His presence at all. His friend wrote of God, “He is wild, you know. We’re not in charge.”

Personally, I believe we often want to tame God. We would never say it this way, but we act as if God were a service animal trained to perform on command. After all, it is in our sinful nature to subjugate God and raise ourselves to the position of “master of all.” When I take time to pray and intentionally enter into God’s presence, how dare He not show up in ways I expect and can understand. Yancey says, “When I am tempted to complain about God’s lack of presence, I remind myself that God has much more reason to complain about my lack of presence.” (p. 208) That sentence is self-explanatory; but in case you missed it, God never neglects us, but we often neglect Him.