Circumstances sometimes call us to do strange things – things we would not otherwise do. Circumstances also cause us to do things we should have done but never got around to before.

Two out-of-town visitors were walking along a street in New York City late one night. One of the pair, wary of the reputation of city streets at night, kept glancing over his shoulder, nervously eyeing every alley and shadowed doorway. Sure enough, his anticipation was rewarded. As the two rounded the next corner, two muggers appeared out of the darkness and closed in. The nervous fellow knew what was going to happen. He reached for his wallet, pulled out of a $50 bill and handed it to his friend: “Joe, here’s that $50 I’ve been owing you for six months.”

According to some critics, John Wesley never had an original idea in his life. He just borrowed from others. But the point is, even if it’s true that Wesley only borrowed from others, that would hardly solve the riddle of this man and the spiritual dynamic of the Methodist movement. Wesley’s genius and originality lay precisely in his borrowing, adapting, and combining diverse elements into a synthesis more dynamic than the sum of its parts.

Wesley also had the genius of putting an expansive, explosive truth in a single, sometimes simple sentence or a pithy phrase. He encapsulated his vision of mission and ministry in the sentence that has been on the lips of Methodists ever since: “The world is my parish.” He borrowed from Paul to summarize his theology succinctly: “Faith working through love.” He gave a challenging and rather complete principle of stewardship in the crisp triplet: “Gain all you can, save all you can, and give all you can.”

He put controversy into perspective, and challenged our motives, “Fervour for opinions is not Christian zeal.” He found unique ways to call people back to the essentials of Scriptural Christianity, “Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? Can anything but love beget love?” He described his whole approach to differences in belief and church order in the one question: “Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?… If it be, give me thine hand.”   

Together, these references suggest there is a distinctive Methodist style. I want to confirm and commend that. My wife, Jerry, and I live in a life care community. Even casual conversation and the way persons relate in our community reveal something of what they believe. We Methodists are a minority in the community, Church of Christ and Baptists are majorities. Even if I were not deliberately observant, I believe I would sense “something different.”  I think that has to do with style.

Diana Vreeland was an undisputed leader in fashion. She wrote her autobiography with the simple but stylish title, DV. It recorded her lifetime of living with inimitable style. She made a big point about the importance of style by referring to Japan. “God was fair to the Japanese,” she said. “He gave them no oil, no coal, no diamonds, no gold, no material resources-nothing! Nothing comes from the island that you can sustain a civilization on. All God gave the Japanese was a sense of style” (House and Garden, April 1984, p. 36, excerpts from DV). It was the ultimate compliment to the Japanese from this fashion style setter.

Methodists have a style that, to a marked degree, defines our uniqueness. I’m going to reflect on this distinctive style in the weeks ahead, and post here on Wesleyan Accent.

As I type, I’m sitting (tray table down) on my American flight from Miami to Chicago. I thought maybe I’d rest. With a very long layover in Chicago I thought I’d rest now and work later. (There’s so much work to do.)  But as I closed my eyes, and adjusted my headrest, I was overwhelmed.

I tried not to weep.

It might be odd to openly weep on a plane full of passengers lost to my reality. If I could, I would shout in prayer, and lift up my voice in a language only known to the Spirit. My body is somewhere above Kentucky, but I feel like I’m sitting in the front row of the church in Marianao – not on the aisle seat of an over-full flight. And if I were there, that’s exactly what we would do. The whole body would be rejoicing in God’s goodness. Shouting in praise. Hands raised in excited adoration. The whole body would be standing in the presence of God Himself, bold with praise.

Instead. My heart could explode from the tension. The desire to openly pray and praise and the inability to do it. I’m meeting with the Lord from 10,000 feet. And no one knows. (Or cares.)

I’ve been to Cuba before.

I’ve been deeply transformed each time. Every time I’ve tried to come home and put into words what the experience is like – knowing that I have the great privilege of experiencing what most people will never get to know. And every time, I can’t.

I can say the technical things.

Revival continues to happen in the Methodist Church of Cuba. In their deep difficulty and struggle the people of Cuba overflow with a well of deep joy. They reflect a deeper love for Jesus. They live in the work of the Spirit. They are so committed to their King that they sacrifice and serve in ways that are challenging and inspiring to Christians everywhere. They are walking into the dark places to bring the life changing light of Christ. They welcome us with radical hospitality….anticipating our every need and readily responding before we know to ask. They live with little and they give us everything.

They believe the Spirit of God is alive, well, and working in each of them. And they act accordingly, actively praying for deliverance, healing, and baptism of the Spirit for others – and seeing the fruit of healing and deliverance when they do.

I’m holding back my weeping – not for the technical things. (Though they are truly incredible.)

But because of the communion of the Spirit we shared. I’m weeping at the union of lives that came through the power of the Spirit – and the profound honor of ministering in the Spirit together. I’m weeping for the words of life and prayers that were lifted over me – even as I attempted to minister to others.

I’m weeping because I’ve tasted the Kingdom there, over and over again. But in a profound way on this visit, years of learning each other and exploring Cuba ignited into shared ministry, shared Spirit, and into a taste of the Kingdom. It was the communion of Saints on earth.

And though I’m still processing – I think I’m also weeping for what we’re missing. How many churches, and how much of America is missing it.

It’s not that American churches are getting it wrong exactly.

It’s maybe more that we have something available to us that we either don’t know – or are too scared to discover. We’re on the edges of the Kingdom – holding it with hesitation instead of enjoying the fullness of the Kingdom that’s possible for us.

It’s nobody’s fault.

It’s American individualism, its failures of churches and leaders to lead them in the fullness of the Kingdom (my failure included). It’s ignorance. It’s being so comfortable that we’re not desperate for something the world isn’t satisfying.

I’m weeping for the pain of the people of Cuba.

But I’m weeping with joy for the Kingdom they embody in it.

And I’m weeping for the many Christians who aren’t running after it and don’t know to.

Maybe I’m weeping at not knowing how to help bring the fullness of the Kingdom in my own community and feeling so inadequate to try.

Turns out, I’ve not been able to keep the tears from falling.

The kindness of Jesus is simply too overwhelming. His goodness and mercy for the people of Cuba, and for me, is simply too much to hold in – so I’m wiping my tears with my complimentary napkin.

For now, I’ll stop myself from shouting from my seat.

And instead, I’ll imagine my heart on the front pew of that church – loudly declaring the goodness of God with the Cuban people that have so graciously given me the Kingdom.

My files are flowing over with magazine and newspaper articles, cartoons, and photos. Unfortunately, I have not found a good “keeping” and “retrieval” system that is not too time costly for the reflections I prize.

Yet, I saw it and I can’t forget it…a cartoon that depicted an older couple, obviously rich and retired, sitting in their posh living room. The lady was reading, her husband looking out the window with a smile on his face. One gathers that he has just shared with her his latest dream for retirement activity. Frowning, she looks up from her book and says: “With strikes, campus unrest, the communist take-over, air pollution on the rise, hippie protest, and immorality rampant, it doesn’t strike me as the time to start a butterfly collection!” 

As we move into this twenty-first century we need to reflect on this wise claim that has been made: the twentieth century has put the human race on trial for its life. 

It is difficult not to believe that. The institutions upon which we have become dependent, around which our lives have been ordered–education, business, medical services, the penal system, organized religion, government–have each in some way been gradually revealed as inadequate, a few of them perhaps beyond renewal and repair. In any case, they have not been equal to their promise; they cannot fill the longing in us. 

We are dissatisfied with things as they are. And while dissatisfaction is as old as the human race, and every period of history is unique in its own fashion, I believe we have reached a crucial moment in human civilization. Atomic bombs are not just more powerful weaponry. Electronic computers are not just more complex adding machines. Neil Armstrong was more than a latter-day Columbus setting foot on the moon. 

Dare I even think it? Maxie Dunnam is not just another old man becoming 90, seeking to make a redemptive difference in a needy world. What can I do? What must I do? What will I do?

What? Count it all joy?

After a brief greeting, James begins his Epistle, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.” (James 1:2 KJV)

There is no hesitation, no fumbling to get to the point. It’s really a shout, COUNT IT ALL JOY! He continues, “when you meet various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1:2-4 RSV) 

Ponder verse 3 slowly… “For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” Pay careful attention to the completion of his thought in verse 4: “For you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness, and let steadfastness have its full effect, that you be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

You see, suffering may produce steadfastness and faith, and we still will be incomplete. We still may lack joy. Pain by itself is evil, and alone, it doesn’t teach us anything. It may discipline us to be strong and not complain. Or, it may turn us into cynics. We may be tough and steadfast in our suffering, always keeping a stiff upper lip, but that’s a long way from what James is talking about– “Count it all joy … that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

Philip Yancey, in his book, Disappointment with God, gives us a clue for allowing our steadfast faith in suffering to work its full effect in our life. He tells us about Douglas, who “seemed righteous, in the sense of Job,” and who, like Job, suffered terrible afflictions he did not deserve.

Douglas had given up a lucrative career to start an urban ministry. His wife developed breast cancer, had a breast removed, and was struggling with the debilitating side effects of chemotherapy. In the midst of this crisis, a drunken driver hit their car and Douglas sustained a severe brain injury. He suffered terrible headaches and double vision. He could no longer work full-time to support his wife and daughter. He had loved to read, but now struggled to get through a page or two. If anyone had a right to be angry with God, Douglas did.

Yancey expected Douglas to express disappointment with God, but instead, Douglas said that he had learned “not to confuse God with life”:

I feel free to curse the unfairness of life and to vent all my grief and anger. But I believe God feels the same way about that accident—grieved and angry. I don’t blame him for what happened….I have learned to see beyond the physical reality of this world to the spiritual reality. We tend to think, “Life should be fair because God is fair.” But God is not life. And if I confuse God with the physical reality of life -by expecting constant good health, for example- then I set myself up for a crashing disappointment… We can learn to trust God despite all the unfairness of life. Isn’t that really the main point of Job? (pp. 183-84)

Douglas challenged Yancey to “go home and read again the story of Jesus. Was life fair to him? For me, the Cross demolished for all time the basic assumption that life will be fair.”

Do you see the difference? It’s very clear. We can waste our suffering, or we can allow it to produce trust in God, steadfastness in faith. And we can allow that steadfastness in faith to perfect and complete us–leaving us “lacking in nothing.” 

So the shout of James is real. “Count it all joy!” And we can do that–if we know that growth is not easy –if we will realize that when we are suffering, it doesn’t help us to compare ourselves to others. And, if we will not waste our suffering but allow it to produce steadfastness in faith, that is what will bring us to completion, lacking in nothing.

This is part four in a five-part series dedicated to exploring what I have come to understand as the five foundations of disciple-making. I hope this is helpful to all of those who, like me, are laboring to help the Church become better at participating in the Great Commission. Here are the first, second, and third parts.

I have the terrifying privilege of being the father of three girls. Working to understand them and their worlds has been the adventure of a lifetime. That’s because on top of being a guy, I grew up in a male dominated household, in another country to boot. It was three men (me, my brother, and my dad) and one brave woman (my mom). So, these days I feel at times like I’m finally getting it, just to realize I’m not. Then I feel like I’m doing something terribly wrong, only to discover it’s not a big deal. The whole process is exhausting and a little (very) scary. However, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. In fact, I can say with no hesitation that nothing has taught me more about surrendering to Jesus than being a father and a husband.

One of the things I’m most grateful for when it comes to my daughters is that my wife and I aren’t alone in all of it. Through our local church and friends, not only are there many other people involved and invested in our kids’ lives, but there are also many people involved and invested in ours. People who often understand what we’re going through and who are just one step ahead of us. Actually, one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned over the past few years is that I need to intentionally have trusted friends who will walk with me through all the stuff of life. All of it.

The biggest “ah-ha!” for me in this recent season is that disciple-making at its best works exactly like that: Friends walking along together with permission and intent to move one another towards Jesus in every aspect of life, not just parts of it. And, this process is hardly ever just a one-on-one affair. Afterall, different people are further along in different areas of life. Naturally, it makes sense that it would take a team of disciples, in different seasons and areas of life, to raise up a disciple. The apostle Paul understood this in the context of apostolic/pastoral ministry when he said  “What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow (1 Cor 3:5-7). While he was speaking from a different role, I believe it’s safe to extrapolate. Paul tells the church in Corinth in other words “it’ll take more than just one of us to see that you mature in Christ. Now stop arguing!”

It’s sometimes difficult for us to grasp this idea practically in part because of our tendency to commodify, or make objects out of our disciple-making relationships. In this sense, disciple-making looks like an activity, or a program, where I meet up with people and serve as an instructor in the ways of Jesus. Often, we use books or video resources to aid us in this process. However, too often we leave those (weekly?) meetings and go on with our lives, spending time with our real friends. The problem with this approach is that effective, life-changing disciple-making happens in the context of friendships. And, true friendships require mutual admiration. This is true when it comes to those you are just beginning to have faith-conversations with, and it’s true for others who have been on the journey for a long time. It’s true for three reasons: 1- We don’t tend to take advice or help from people we don’t admire and respect; 2- We naturally tend to gravitate more towards others whom we admire in some shape or form; 3- Without admiration, we fall into the trap of treating others like a project.

In his book “The Four Loves,” C.S. Lewis says this about friendships: “Friendship, then, like the other natural loves, is unable to save itself. In reality, because it is spiritual and therefore faces a subtler enemy, it must, even more whole-heartedly than they, invoke the divine protection if it hopes to remain sweet. For consider how narrow its true path is. It must not become what the people call a ‘mutual admiration society’; yet if it is not full of mutual admiration, of appreciative love, it is not Friendship at all.”

It’s notable that Lewis chooses to alert the reader against confusing mutual admiration in friendships with a “mutual admiration society.” The term was coined by Henry David Thoreau in his journal (1851) describing what, at the time, had become a popular trend amongst scholars, poets, and intellectuals. Mutual admiration societies would be formed amongst groups of friends who would agree to praise each other’s work, exchanging lavish compliments with one another. At times these were genuine exchanges. However, these societies became an often superficial means for mutual advancement in society. C.S. Lewis recognizes that this sort of unspoken agreement isn’t the goal, but that friendships without (genuine) mutual admiration aren’t friendships at all! 

I can’t overemphasize this. Effective disciple-making relationships require mutual admiration. This means it goes both ways, regardless of how new someone is to faith, or even if they haven’t yet made a decision to follow Jesus. Remove mutual admiration from the equation, and the process feels like a task, a to-do, becoming mechanical and ineffective.

It doesn’t take much for us to notice this even in the strikingly asymmetric relationship between Jesus and his disciples. I mean, it would be a stretch to say that there was mutual discipleship going on. Jesus is, afterall, God made flesh. However, a quick read through the gospels reveals mutual admiration. I’m particularly drawn to Jesus’ renaming or giving nicknames to disciples. He calls James and John Boanerges, meaning “sons of thunder,” and shifts from Simon to Peter (Rock). In both instances Jesus calls out admirable traits of his disciples that perhaps they didn’t see in themselves. 

In reality, we find more relatable examples in the relationships between Paul and Barnabas, Barnabas and John Mark, then later Paul and John Mark, and finally Paul and Timothy. In every case, we find descriptions of deep friendship and mutual admiration. I like the example of John Mark in particular because Barnabas saw in him what Paul didn’t, insisting on giving him a second chance after his desertion. This caused the split between Paul and Barnabas. However, towards the end of his ministry, Paul asks for John Mark to be sent to him saying “Only Luke is with me. Pick up Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for service” (2 Timothy 4:11).

Okay, so now that we know how important mutual admiration is to disciple-making relationships, what do we do about it? I’d like to offer up a few suggestions for those of you who are being nudged towards obedience by the Holy Spirit in the area of disciple-making. 

1- Find some friends you admire for different reasons, Christians or not, to begin sharing experience with (see part 2 of this series). Offer up counsel and advice while pointing them towards Jesus. Resist making it into a new project. Be intentional, but not mechanical.

2- Pursue friendships with others who do not follow Jesus. Look beyond their faith to find things you can admire about them. Are they particularly savvy in some area of life? Are they a good parent? Do they demonstrate compassion for others in a special way? How might God’s prevenient grace be at work in their life?

3- Consider what gifts you have that might spark admiration? In what areas might you invite someone to follow you towards Jesus? Pray that God would give you grace and favor with those you come into contact with.

4- What are areas of your life where you feel convicted about? Are there areas for which you need good counsel to become more like Jesus? Who are some people you know who might be a few steps ahead of you? Pursue relationships with them.

In the next and last part of this series, we’ll talk a bit about power in relationships. I look forward to sharing it with you.

This is part three in a five-part series dedicated to exploring what I have come to understand as the five foundations of disciple-making. I hope this is helpful to all of those who, like me, are laboring to help the Church become better at participating in the Great Commission. Here are the first and second parts.

About a year and a half ago I decided I wasn’t happy with who I had become physically. I wanted to do something about it, and I was ready to invest time, money, and effort into it. So, I joined a group of friends working out with a trainer a couple of times a week, became a member at a local gym, began to study a bit about what works for men over 40 (can anyone testify?!), and started tracking my meals and activity. 

A year later, I felt stronger, more aware of my diet, and I had lost some weight. However, I felt stuck (I’m still working on it). I was tracking my food, I thought I was doing a good job with my “macros,” and continued to be consistent at the gym, but I wasn’t making progress. Then I found myself on a trip, sitting at a restaurant table next to a former male fitness model who now runs a very successful personal training business. Naturally, I began, well… whining about my situation (in hindsight it was pretty pitiful). I told him about how great I was doing with my workouts, my diet, how I was tracking everything and that, in short, life just wasn’t fair (it’s ridiculous. I know)! Then he said “tracking? Did you say you have been tracking your diet?” to which I answered “yes! I have it all on my phone!” As the words came out of my mouth I knew right then and there that he had me! “Let me see it,” he said, to my despair. There was no way out. I was about to give him real access to the record of what I had been eating. 

I could keep going with the story. It started a bit tragic, then it became entertaining. Ultimately though, it gave me hope. That’s because while I had made positive changes on my own, and had given permission to my trainer and to some friends to give me feedback on my journey, it was the first time I had given someone access to a true record of my actions and choices. It wasn’t pretty. But it was what I needed.

Moving Beyond “Accountability”

Notice that I chose not to use the word accountability. This is a conscious choice. Accountability strikes me as a bit legalistic. It’s an overused term, and it is applied to too many contexts. When someone is made to pay for their mistakes, we might call that accountability. When Institutions create success metrics that must be reported, we call that accountability. We even try to soften the term a bit by adding modifiers such as “relational accountability” or “spiritual accountability.” We do this because we realize that, on its own, accountability is simply a “wonky,” misunderstood term. 

Now, it is true Scripture warns us that we will one day give an account of our lives to God. However, notice how the Greek word in almost all texts translated as “account” is logos (see Rom 14:12; Matt 12:37), which many know is most commonly translated as “word” or “the word.” This makes sense because it gives undertones of confession, which is of course done with words. Interestingly, in another passage with a similar warning, 2 Corinthians 5:10, when Paul says “for we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ” (NIV), the greek word for appear is phaneroó, which could also be translated as “to reveal,” “to make known,” or even “to show openly.” The reality is that one day we will indeed give an account to God. All of us. And, we will be giving an account to an all-knowing God. There is nothing under the sun that can be hidden from almighty God, even if we often act like it isn’t the case. In other words, God, by virtue of his nature, has complete access to our most hidden realities. Everything about us is laid open before the throne of God. 

Access in Disciple-Making Relationships

Here’s the catch, what is true about the all-knowing nature of God, is not true about us in our disciple-making relationships. When it comes to these life-giving relationships, access is not assumed, it is given. Therefore, we are only able to mature in our discipleship to the extent that we are willing to give access to others to things about us that are otherwise hidden. If I am convinced, for instance, that my handling of finances should better reflect my faith, asking someone to help me in that area will only be effective if I also give them access to a true record of my finances. Otherwise it’s simply too easy to fall into self-deception, or even just outright deception in order to project a fake reality… sort of like my whining about being stuck in my health journey, hoping for affirmation instead of confronting reality!

Biblical Foundations for Giving Access

I like how the author of Hebrews puts it in chapter 10. After quoting Jeremiah 31:33-34, he calls believers to perseverance in verses 19-23. Then he says in verse 24 “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds” (NIV). Different versions use different words in place of “spur on,” but I think in this case the harsher the expression, the more faithful to the author’s intent. The greek word in that text is paroxusmos, which only shows up one other time in the New Testament, in Acts 15:39, to describe the “sharp disagreement” between Paul and Barnabas, causing them to part ways. Paroxusmos refers to a provocation, an angry dispute, or sharp contention. It was used in the Greco-Roman world in the context of debate, and in the medical field to describe a sudden attack or convulsion. 

This is the intensity the Hebrews author is trying to convey as necessary in discipling relationships as persons challenge each other, with grace, toward love and good deeds, or as John Wesley would put it, personal and social holiness. Speaking of John Wesley, note that while being part of a Class Meeting was a prerequisite for just about anything else in the early Methodist movement, Bands were an optional, more challenging commitment. In Bands, members were expected to give one another, you guessed it, access to a much higher degree. 

Privacy and Modern Challenges

Finally, we can agree that the idea of access feels perhaps a bit uncomfortable, even invasive. I believe this is because privacy, at least in the ways we understand it today, is not a very old concept. Much of the access needed for “spurring each other on” was assumed in the context of tight-knit communities, an analog/hard copy world, and mostly in-person interactions. In times past, “personal space” and privacy were less common, reserved generally to those in the wealthier portions of society. In short, there was typically not much one could hide from others for long. This is simply not the case with the growth of the idea of “personal lives,” and the development of technology to facilitate privacy. Today, we are able to live multiple, almost entirely separate lives. We have our personal life, our church lives, our online interactions, and so on. The bottom line is that in order to be in authentic disciple-making relationships, we must intentionally give and be given access to others with permission to speak into our lives, spurring us on toward holiness. What might feel awkward or invasive at first, turns out to be freedom, as that which was once in darkness now comes to light.

Who are the people who have access to otherwise private, hidden parts of your life? And are others giving you access in a way that allows you to speak into their lives? Could this be the missing key to move you and those around you to the next level?

In order to create more clarity around disciple-making, it benefits us to spend more time coming to agreements about what we mean when we say certain words. This matters because we often agree on which words are important. We just do not mean the same things when we say them. For instance, my shortest possible definition for disciple-making is this: “disciple-making is relationship.” However, this is an unhelpful definition until I expand what I mean by relationship in the context of disciple-making.

In the first part of this series, we explored the foundational nature of relationships when it comes to disciple-making. Now we’ll spend time exploring four other foundational elements of disciple-making, which are simply the building blocks of what relationships mean in this context.

A Relational Moment in the Gospel of John

I’d like to start by taking us to a somewhat obscure passage in the third chapter of the gospel of John. In verse 22 we read “After this, Jesus and his disciples went out into the Judean countryside, where he spent some time with them, and baptized” (NIV). Eugene Peterson says Jesus “relaxed with them there,” and that “He was also baptizing.” This scene strikes me as one of the most “laid-back” moments in the gospels. They set out to the countryside. They hang out… Oh, and they also baptize! It is one of my favorite relational images between Jesus and his disciples. For now, just keep that image in the back of your mind as we move along.

Vivência vs. Convivência: Lived vs. Shared Experience

As a Brazilian, I love how translating words often gives me new insights into the concepts I’m exploring. While reflecting on the foundational elements of disciple-making, I encountered two similar words in Portuguese: Vivência and Convivência. Both share the root vive, from the verb viver (to live). Vivência translates best as “lived experience.” It refers to the ways we encounter God throughout our lives or in private moments through our stories, past, testimony, and personal time with God. Conversely, Convivência translates best as “shared experience.” It is how we experience God in community with others on the discipling journey, whether in living rooms, around tables, at campsites, walking, or working out together.

Both Vivência and Convivência add depth to the idea that experience is foundational to disciple-making. You see, when it comes to the relationships that lead us toward becoming more like Jesus, our shared experience is just as important as our personal, lived experience. 

Disciple-making relationships involve both the transfer of lived experience, AND shared experience. I don’t mean this in a once-a-week bible-study kind of way, but rather in convivência. If I’m helping a friend out who is struggling in his marriage, giving advice (transfer of lived experience) is good, but incomplete without inviting him (and even his spouse) into the messiness of my marriage (shared experience) where we can find hope and mutual encouragement. I don’t mean to sound cliche, but it’s true that becoming more like Jesus is better caught than taught. Inviting those on a discipling journey with us into our everyday lives is more effective, and keeps us more honest, than simply going through curriculum together and asking what everyone around the circle thinks about what they just learned. 

Shifting from Formal Mentoring to Life-Sharing

Over the past five or six years I have had the privilege of being asked to mentor other leaders. I love every opportunity to do so. Initially, I would schedule to meet one-on-one in a coffee shop, where we would spend a couple of hours discussing all that is going on in their lives. It was OK, but it felt incomplete. So I decided to make a shift and invite them into different parts of my day-to-day life. I’ve had them over in my backyard office (“the shedquarters”) and made them coffee. I’ve invited them over for lunch with me and my wife. We have worked out together. Consequently, our conversations have become much richer! We talk about the small things, our personal quirks, stories, dreams and concerns, all in the context of everyday activities. Additionally, they get an unabridged version of who I am, the good and the bad, and vice-versa. Over time, these shared experiences begin to shape our common understanding of our faith and our walk with Jesus, our challenges and shortcomings, and our vision for life. The bottom line is that disciple-making relationships necessarily involve unofficial moments of friendship and sharing life experiences together.

The Role of Mission in Shared Experience

There is yet another dimension to the idea of shared experience. It’s the “and baptized” portion of the text we started with in John 3. Jesus formed his disciples by transferring lived experience and by sharing experiences with the disciples. But, those shared experiences weren’t limited to mundane everyday things they did together (though these were also very much part of the process). Their shared experiences involved being on-mission wherever they were, whenever opportunities presented themselves. They were hanging out AND they were baptizing. They were on their way somewhere AND Jesus was healing. You get the pattern. 

Unfortunately, we have created a tendency in many of our churches to compartmentalize the different aspects of disciple-making that were meant to happen organically and all at once. We have interest-based small groups for hanging out and making friends, bible (or book) studies that focus on different aspects of the Christian life, and service opportunities where we can do good in the community, or as my American friends would say, “give back.” And, none of these activities are bad. They’re just not meant to be compartmentalized in the context of disciple-making. We need to become life-sharing (vivência AND convivência) friends with those who are helping guide us (and who we are helping guide) towards Jesus, getting to know them for who they really are, learning to follow and to serve Jesus alongside them, imperfect people moving on together to perfection.

This is part two in a five-part series dedicated to exploring what I have come to understand as the five foundations of disciple-making. I hope this is helpful to all of those who, like me, are laboring to help the Church become better at participating in the Great Commission. Join us in this conversation by downloading WME’s WE419 app, where you can engage with resources, post your thoughts, etc.

I’m Maxie. She’s Jerry, my wife.

The setting is almost always the same. Someone introducing us to strangers will say, ‘These are our friends, Jerry and Maxie Dunnam.’ Far more times than not, the person to whom we are being introduced assumes Jerry is the husband and Maxie is the wife. I can’t begin to come close to telling you how many times I’ve had to say, smiling but in a corrective way, ‘I’m Maxie. She’s Jerry, my wife.’

We get more mail addressed “Mr. Jerry Dunnam” than any other intended receiver.

A little reflection confirms names are important. “What’s in a name?” is often critical.

We are in the midst of Advent, a four week season the Christian community has set aside, climaxing with Christmas Day. Christ Followers are called to reflect and pray, centering our attention on the coming of Christ. I can’t think of any question that will serve our reflections more richly than Jesus…what’s in a name? 

What a story! “That which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit; she will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for He will save his people from their sins.” (Matthew 1:20—23 RSV)

No reservation about his name. It had been declared by the prophet, Isaiah, centuries before. The angel had also announced it to Mary at the time of her Annunciation: “You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High…and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:31-32, 33 RSV) So, the question, what’s in a name?

The late Erma Bombeck, one of America’s best-loved columnists, wrote a funny but penetrating piece. And I quote her as clearly as I can:

Most of us have never seen anyone smile in the Post Office. The Post Office instead is like a clinic for lower back pain. Well, I was in line yesterday, when the door opened and in walked a lady with a big smile on her face weighted down with boxes for mailing. She held the door open for her three little girls who filed in, each carrying a package. It was quite obvious that they had never seen the inside of a Post Office.

“She bounded over to a man standing over a counter pasting stamps and asked, ‘Are you a carrier?’

“Of what?” he snapped.

“Another one in line growled, “To the back of the line, lady!”

Her eyes fairly danced with excitement as she announced to no one in particular, ‘It certainly is a nice day, and just think, girls, Christmas is only one week away.”

“Will granddad get his presents?” asked one child.

“Of course, he will,” said her mother “We’ve got it all timed just about right. On Christmas Eve he’ll be sitting around the fire, the door bell will ring and a postman will knock and say, with a big smile, “Merry Christmas from your family in Arizona.”

Every eye in the Post Office turned to stare at this cross between Mary Poppins and Tiny Tim.

“Look girls, doesn’t the Post Office look like Santa is on his way?”

We all looked around. With the exception of Santa pointing his finger at us from a poster and warning, “Mail early” the place had the spirit of a Recovery Room.

Finally she got to the head of the line. “When will dad get these packages?” she asked.

The postal clerk shrugged, “Depends. Maybe by New Year’s or we could get ‘em there in one day.”

“One day would be fine!” she exclaimed.

“It’ll cost you,” he said, scribbling down some figures. “$45.83.”

The woman hesitated, then picked out one box and said, “This one must get there by Christmas Day. It’s my father’s birthday.”

The clerk shook his head and said, “Boy, that guy’s a loser. Imagine having a birthday on Christmas. One present fits all. Thank God I don’t know of anyone born on Christmas Day.”

The man behind me whispered loudly, “Thank God, I do.”

I’ve told that long story by Erma Bombeck to ask: Well, do you? Do you know anyone—do you know the One—who was born on Christmas day?

December is the month of Advent, an expectant season when Christians around the world pay special attention to who this One was and why we want to know more.  We may be a little confused by the people around us, but let us be clear about the One who was proclaimed to come – and did.

Are you primarily a fiction or a non-fiction reader? I’ll confess I can’t remember the last time I picked up a fiction title. I know, it’s bad. But ever since my dad gave me a copy of Stephen Covey’s “7 Habits of Highly Effective People” when I was 14, I’ve been hooked. I have bookshelves packed with non-fiction titles, from leadership to theology to… yep, GTD (is anyone still using that?).

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been drawn to systems, frameworks, steps, best-practices, you name it. And, for the longest time I moved around in ministry mostly oblivious to the fact that the modern ministry world  – at least as far back as the 80s –  generally gives preference to people who are wired a bit like me. This is a uniquely Western phenomenon. Yet, as I travel to different parts of the world it has become clear that a large portion of the church has adopted much of this style of ministry. 

Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with thinking systematically about church and ministry. We should be organized. We should develop healthy systems for raising leaders. We should think strategically about the future and where we’re going in our local churches and denominations. I mean, what would the Methodist Wesleyan movement be without John Wesley’s systematic approach to field preaching, establishing class meetings, bands, societies, etc? 

The problem arises when we fail to realize that when it comes to the most basic and essential part of ministry, namely making disciples, our systems, strategies, and frameworks, aren’t bad. They’re simply not enough. Here’s why: Discipleship requires relationships, and relationships are messy! They read more like the fiction section of the bookstore. Did Jesus strategize? Absolutely! Were the disciples counting numbers and paying attention to the stats? It sure looks like it! But underneath all of that was something that looked more like storytelling, dancing, or playing music. It looked more like art. 

The Relational Nature of Discipleship

Let’s take Jesus’ relationship with Peter, for instance. Notice the relational arch between them. In Luke 5 they meet, Peter is reluctant at first, but decides to follow Jesus after an impressive demonstration of power. Then in Mark 8 we see Peter believing he has enough relational capital to rebuke Jesus (it didn’t turn out well for him). The relationship escalates to Peter’s famous declaration “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you,” followed by all the other disciples. Peter of course fails to keep his promise by denying Jesus in Luke 22, which undoubtedly caused a great deal of shame and guilt. Then, after the resurrection, Jesus restores relationship with Peter in John 21. What an incredible relational sequence of events! 

It takes us looking at Acts 4:13 however, to get a full picture of the fruit of that relationship. In Acts 3, Peter and John heal a lame man, then Peter goes on to preach with authority to the onlookers. After this they are brought before the rulers, elders, and teachers of the law for questioning at the Sanhedrin. Luke then tells us in Acts 4:13: “When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus.” The conclusion of those Jewish leaders after observing Peter’s behavior, was that he had been with Jesus. In other words, the relational dance between Jesus and Peter over a number of years, culminated in Peter becoming a sort of person who had undeniably become more like Jesus.

We could spend time doing this same exercise with other disciples, as well as with Barnabas and Paul, Paul and Timothy, etc. The common thread is that after all the strategies and systems are in place, discipleship is still the result of persons intentionally relating to other persons, pointing them to Jesus by modeling, showing, telling, and challenging.

Nothing has taught me more about this than being married and parenting three teenage girls. I do have some systems in place that help me organize those relationships. And I do have best-practices I try to follow to make sense of it all. However, at the end of the day, they are four very unique human beings, with their own thoughts, opinions, dreams, and frustrations. My systems and strategies will set the stage for our daily interactions, but they won’t do the “relating” for me. And, the “relating” is the main thing!

Reclaiming Personal Responsibility in Disciple-Making

I’ve observed in churches that it isn’t hard for Christians to understand the personal nature of things like prayer, giving, and reading scripture. Sure, most Christians understand that there are times when the church does those things corporately, but it is self-evident to them that those activities are also expected personally. For example, they understand that it’s important for us to pray as a community during corporate worship, but that it’s not a substitute for personal devotion and prayer. The same, however, isn’t the case when it comes to disciple making. Many Christians believe the church makes disciples, without realizing this means we are called personally to that task.

It is crucial that we understand the foundational nature of relationships when it comes to discipleship, otherwise we are left with churches where people believe our discipleship systems make disciples. Additionally, we risk creating a culture whereby inviting someone to a church service, or participating in a community outreach, or serving on a church team, are seen as the ultimate work of making disciples. Ultimately, we risk reducing discipleship to a series of coordinated steps and activities excellently designed to get people engaged and committed to the church, but terrible at helping people become more like Jesus in the context of intentional relationships with one another. 

This is part one in a five-part series dedicated to exploring what I have come to understand as the five foundations of disciple-making. I hope this is helpful to all of those who, like me, are laboring to help the Church become better at participating in the Great Commission. Join us in this conversation by downloading WME’s WE419 app, where you can engage with resources, post your thoughts, etc.

This is the seventh installment in Maxie’s series on Core Convictions. You can find the first seven articles here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Someone will say “You have faith; I have deeds. ” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by my deeds. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.

You foolish person, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? Was not our father Abraham considered righteous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did. And the scripture was fulfilled that says, Abraham believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness, ” and he was called God’s friend. You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone. (James 2:18-24)

As you look closely at this word of James, you realize that James is not asking whether works without faith can save us, but rather, whether faith without works can save us. His answer to that is a resounding no.

Before we take issue with James, let’s look at the similarity between his words in this theme text and Jesus’s parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25:31-46. This is the only time Jesus told us what judgment is going to be like. He says that when the Son of Man comes in his glory and gathers before him all the nations of the world, he’s going to separate the people the way a shepherd divides the sheep from the goats. He’s going to place the sheep on his right hand and the goats on the left. He will say to those on his right hand (the sheep), “Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me (vv. 34-36).”

That was a surprise to both the righteous and the unrighteous, because neither of them knew they were guilty of Jesus’s accusation. They asked, “When did we see you hungry?” His response to their question is unforgettable: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (vv. 37, 40).

Nothing about belief, nothing about right doctrine, nothing about proper churchmanship. As is often the case for me, a Charles Schulz Peanuts cartoon speaks to me here. Linus and his sister, Lucy, are having a conversation. Linus says to Lucy, “You think you are smart just because you are older than I am!” Lucy gets up and walks off, but Linus follows, saying, “You just happened to be born first! You were just lucky!” Then he screams, “I didn’t ask to be born second.” And in the final frame, he adds in despair, “I didn’t even get a chance to fill out an application.”

When it comes to the last judgment, there are no applications to fill out. The conditions have been predetermined by Jesus himself. Consider James’s word in light of that. Again, his question is not whether works without faith can save us, but rather whether faith without works can save us. To gain clarity, consider these bold affirmations.

• One, there is no salvation without discipleship. We can’t claim Jesus as Savior without a willingness to surrender to him as Lord.
• Two, an emphasis on faith that does not include fidelity to Christ’s call to walk in newness of life is a distortion of the gospel. This is what James is saying: Faith that does not give attention to ethical issues-to telling the truth, seeking to live morally clean lives, shunning evil, fighting personal immorality and for social injustice, feeding the hungry, caring for the needy, seeking the lost, suffering for those the world has said no to–is dead.
• Three, a faith that emphasizes ethics and good works as a saving way of life is a false faith. Ethics and good works do not save us, but rather are the expression of the transforming work of the Spirit within us.

Faith and works.  Not faith without works nor works without faith.  Our deeds reveal our faith, and our faith comes from following our Lord. Salvation by God’s grace runs through sanctification by faithfully Jesus and arrives at deeds we are empowered to do by the Holy Spirit.