In the context of the Christian faith, a disciple is not only one who subscribes to the teachings of Jesus and seeks to spread them, but one who seeks to relive Jesus’ life in the world. Discipline for the Christian is the way we train ourselves or allow the Spirit to train us to be like Jesus, to appropriate his spirit and to cultivate the power to live his life in the world.

So discipleship means discipline. We have to work at being Christian. The purpose of discipline for Christians is spiritual growth and ultimately our total transformation. Study is an important way of “abiding” in the teaching of Jesus and using the tools Scripture provides to rightly discern the truth. We want cultivated in us the deep desire to rightly divide the truth.

Renewing and Abiding

Paul sounds the mandate for those who would be disciples:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:1-2)

We are what we think. We are transformed by the renewal of our minds. So study is a necessary discipline for spiritual growth.

Moreover, consider the relationship between transformation and abiding. The word “abide” appears frequently in John’s Gospel, particularly in Jesus’ metaphor of the vine and the branches (John 15). In that setting, it is often translated “remain” (“remain in me”…that is, “stay with me”).

In John 8:31, the word is translated “hold to” (“hold to my teaching” in the NIV), “continue in” (“continue in my word” NRSV), and “remain faithful to” (“remain faithful to my teachings” NLT).

What might these various renderings mean for the way we discipline ourselves through study?

Rightly Dividing the Word of Truth

Unfortunately and shamefully, study is not often high on the priority of most Christians. For some, there is even a suspicion of learning, and to be “smart” and to be Christian are incongruent.

A story from John Wesley’s life chides us here. He received a letter once from a pious brother who declared, “the Lord has directed me to write you that while you know Greek and Hebrew, he can do without your learning.” Mr. Wesley replied appropriately, ”Your letter received, and I may say in reply that your letter was superfluous as I already know that the Lord could do without my learning. I wish to say to you that while the Lord does not direct me to tell you, yet I feel impelled to tell you on my own responsibility, that the Lord does not need your ignorance either.”

Jesus made it clear that knowledge is essential, absolutely essential: knowledge of the truth. “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (John 8:32). Some in the crowds that were following Jesus believed in him. But Jesus dealt with the issue of how deeply they were committed. Would they break loose from the crowd and cast their lot with this one who was claiming to be “the way”? Could they handle the pressure of their leaders who felt that this itinerate preacher was threatening their religion and way of life?

He makes clear the terms of discipleship for those who believed him. They must not only hear what he was teaching, they must “abide” in his word if they were to be a part of his company (John 8:31).

To Jesus’ word we add Paul’s word to Timothy, “study to show thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15, KJV).

Paul is specifically addressing Timothy in his vocation, urging him to distinguish himself from the false teachers by being a teacher of the truth. Yet his word has general application to us. The phrase that is relevant to our discipline of study is “rightly dividing the word of truth.”

William Barclay in his commentary, The Letters to Timothy, Titus and Philemon, provides unusual insight into this phrase by examining the Greek word for “rightly divide.” It is the word orthotomein, which literally means to cut rightly. It has many pictures in it. The Greeks themselves used the word, or the phrase, in three different connections: for driving a straight road across country; for plowing a straight furrow across a field; and for the work of a mason in cutting and squaring a stone so that it fit into its correct place in the structure of the building.

When we rightly divide, we rightly handle the word of truth, driving a straight road through the truth and refusing to be lured down pleasant but irrelevant bypaths. We plow a straight furrow across the field of truth. We take each section of the truth, and fit it into its correct position, as a mason does a stone, allowing no part to usurp an undue place or an undue emphasis, and so to knock the whole structure of truth out of balance (Barclay, 198-99).

What Scripture Provides

In practicing the discipline of study, we seek and hopefully find the truth, which makes us free.

• Teaching It is true that Christianity is not founded on a book but on a living person. Before we had a New Testament, we had Christians and the Christian church. But not much time passed before it was necessary for these first Christians to present this living person, Jesus, by writing his story – the Gospels. So, the fact now is that we get our firsthand account of Jesus and his teaching from the New Testament. There is no place else to get it. The Bible is irreplaceable for teaching us who Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are, what they have done, and what they are calling us to be.

• Reproof  We normally think of reproof as finding fault and criticizing. Here it means conviction. Scripture convicts us, confronting and convincing us of our sin and error, but also bringing us face to face with the pursuing grace of God, the forgiving love of Christ, and the empowering presence of the Holy Spirit.

• Correction We considered earlier Jesus’ claim about knowing the truth and the truth setting us free. The correcting work of Scripture is the testing of truth. We must always use our minds, dedicating them to the pursuit of truth; and truth is truth wherever we find it. The point here is that we are to test all theology, all ethical teaching, all moral codes by the Bible’s teaching. The key to this testing lies in the teaching of Jesus Christ as the Scriptures present it to us. That means that isolated teachings of the Bible must be tested by the revelation of God in Jesus Christ. In him the divine Yes has been spoken.

• Training in righteousness This is the end of it all, training in righteousness, and for what purpose? “That everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:18).

We study the Bible that we may live a godly life now, doing the will of God, being used by God for the salvation of others.

We Are What We Think

In Romans 12:1-2 Paul calls us to be renewed by the renewing of our minds. In Philippians 4:8-9, he urges us to meditate on those virtues, that is, on what we want to become. Paul might even say, “we are what we think.”

The body of evidence to confirm this assertion is growing daily. Yet we each have to learn this lesson for ourselves: we are what we think. Sour dispositions create not only sick souls but also sick bodies. Feelings of worthlessness, bitter resentment, and self-pity diminish us to fragments. A possessive nature, self-indulgence, self-protectiveness, and self-centeredness shrivel the soul, create dysfunctions within us, distort perception, blur perspective, and prevent the healing we need.

The opposite of this is also true. Those who fill their minds with positive affirmations, who concentrate on the noble virtues that make life meaningful, set the stage for healing and make possible the wholeness that is God’s design for all. Two thousand years before psychologists were teaching this truth, Paul discovered its power. “Meditate on these things,”he said – things that are noble, just, pure, lovely, of good report. We are what we think.

The discipline of study is important because how we use the dynamic power of our thinking determines whether it is Christian or not. Much of our culture reflects a perversion of this power. The “power of positive thinking” is supposed to make us millionaires, yet all too often it also turns us into self-serving people bent on satisfying all our desires. Thus we have a consumer economy of indulgence and waste. It is not arrogant, I think, for Paul, as he calls people to meditate on the great virtues, to add, “the things which you have learned and received and heard and seen in me – these do, and the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:9, NKJV). You cannot separate what Paul said from the style of his life and his passionate commitment to Christ as Lord of his life. Christians can use the “power of positive thinking” with integrity by keeping in mind where we are to center our thinking. “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who…emptied Himself by taking the form of a servant…humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death” (Philippians 2:5, 7-8, NKJV).

The disciplines we pursue are aimed at letting the mind of Christ grow in us. Jesus spoke of having ears but not hearing, eyes but not seeing. Seeing clearly and understanding the significance of what we study is why we practice study as a spiritual discipline.

Over and over again in his letters to the early Christians, Paul insisted that the power to live the Christian life faithfully came by studying God’s word. In fact, on 19 different occasions in his letters Paul says to the faithful, if you want God to truly resurrect the power of Christ in your own heart, it begins with knowing God’s word. That’s why God gave us his word, so that the more we know of it, the closer we will be drawn into understanding God’s will.

We study Scripture because it informs us about God’s presence in our lives and it warns us when our will and God’s will are moving in different directions. Ultimately, when we study God’s word we are nurturing our souls to be closer to God, to have God’s image restored in us, and to be like Jesus.

Dystopian young adult fiction is not my preferred genre for leisure reading. For one thing, novels set in a stark world, often portrayed as a police state, in which humanity is regularly repressed and coerced is a sure prescription (in my book!) for disturbed sleep and not sweet dreams. However, having recently committed to helping a middle schooler with a literature project, I’ve fallen headlong into Victoria Roth’s Divergent trilogy. As a discerning adult of a certain age whose tastes for fiction run more along the lines of spy thrillers and good old-fashioned murder mysteries, I am alternately fascinated and distressed by the predominance of this burgeoning genre. Yet, at the same time, I’ve grown a little more understanding of why this genre has captivated the imaginations of today’s youth and young adults. Rather than diagnose the sociological factors contributing to the proliferation of this genre, I offer these observations from the perspective of one whose more serious reading includes the writings of John Wesley and works on how Christians are formed theologically.

Value and Benefits of Community

The world into which “Divergent”’s main protagonist, Beatrice/Tris, is born, is run by five different factions. The worst thing that can occur to a citizen is to be declared “factionless.” Though Beatrice/Tris often acts as a “Lone Ranger” figure, she continually longs for and is most at ease when surrounded by a community in which she is a member and knows acceptance, nurture and even challenge.

Desire to belong is not just teen angst seeking to be part of the “in crowd,” this is a fundamental human instinct. Wesley understood that and organized the lives of early Methodists into societies, classes and bands in which Christians could support one another in their pursuit of following Christ. It was in these groups that members could not only find refuge from the world but uphold one another as they sought God’s intentions in their own lives and context.

Problematic Compartmentalization

The five factions are separate entities and except for the higher echelons of leadership only associate with their own. “Faction before Family” is the mantra drummed into the heads of citizens from the time they are children. Though born into a biological family and raised within a particular faction, if an adolescent were to choose a faction different from the one in which they were raised, they have little to no contact with their families from that point forward – they are labeled for life.

It is human nature to want to assign labels and assign categories to which we can locate persons as a way of understanding. Throughout Christian history, different sects of believers have earned names for the particular and distinctive ways they practice Christian faith. These categories can become harmful and problematic when they lose sight of the holistic nature of Christian faith; to love God with heart, soul, mind and strength and love our neighbor as ourselves (Mark 12:30-31). Wesley often referred to Christian discipleship as having the “mind that was in Christ” and “walking in the way Christ walked.” To engage in outward actions of mercy and compassion without attending to nurturing one’s relationship with God and other believers depletes interior resources even in the most earnest of persons. Likewise, to be in love with God without demonstrating that love to our neighbor truncates our faith.

Defying Societal Expectations

Each 16-year-old will discover the faction for which they have the aptitude during a serum-induced exam on the eve of their Choosing Ceremony. As a result of this test, Beatrice/Tris defies the expected norm of testing for one faction and displays the aptitude for at least three of the five factions. She is labeled “Divergent” and urged to conceal this fact from others – even those she loves – because it is dangerous. Throughout the course of the trilogy, she discovers others who have the capacity to think and act beyond the parameters set upon them by society.

At some point, most Christians seeking to follow Jesus realize that their discipleship asks them to defy stereotypes that confine and segment their selves into neatly ordered boxes. Wesley was labeled an “antinomian” by some of his detractors for disregarding the law, defying Anglican norms and declaring the world to be his parish. Alternatively, he was labeled a legalist and called a “Papist” by those who considered the rules that governed the methodical living of his followers to be constraining. Despite this contradiction, Wesley is credited for holding a dialectic in tension, balancing each as he he sought a third alternative. For good reason, contemporary authors refer to Wesley as a “rational enthusiast” or a “radical conservative” for his ability defy expectations and hold together what society would otherwise compartmentalize. Our discipleship is at its fullest when we love God with all our heart, all our mind, all of our souls and with all the strength of our will.

Valuing and Cultivating Virtue 

Beatrice/Tris chooses to transfer factions even though there is much about her parent’s faction she cherishes. When she transfers, she meets Tobias/Four, another transfer who is also Divergent. Tobias/Four seeks to emulate and champion the qualities once championed by his adopted faction; bravery, courage and guardianship. Furthermore, he finds value and admires the virtues inherent in each of the factions, seeking to do what he can to cultivate himself as a well-rounded person.

In a similar vein, Christian disciples understand themselves to be recipients of the Holy Spirit and endowed with God-given gifts and talents they use for Kingdom purposes. Yet all Christians, regardless of gifting, are called to cultivate the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23). Wesley understood earnest Christians to be growing in these qualities. Regardless of social status, gender, educational level or ethnicity, Wesley and the people called Methodists radically included every person who expressed a desire “to flee the wrath to come” and encourage them in a faithful walk with Christ that they might bear fruit for more harvesting.

Purposeful Living

Beatrice/Tris and Tobias/Four work with others to not just free themselves from the present regime of factions but to unseat them in an effort to build a new society. They recoil when they discover their allies simply plan on substituting one totalitarian regime for another. Eventually, in league with other Divergents, they work to establish an integrated society in which all members are valued, fully included and experience human free will rather than government or scientific manipulation and coercion.

Disciples following Christ seek to live new lives free of bondage to sin and death. Christians just don’t seek any new identity, but one that is firmly established and grounded in the Lordship of Christ, the one human who is perfect, pleasing and good in the eyes of God. The ultimate goal of the Christian disciple is to live as God intended in ever increasing love for God and for neighbor. Wesley was adamant that humanity should continually strive to emulate Christ in all they did, which consequently had an effect on British society. As a result of seeking Christ, many persons were liberated from addictions. As Christians sought to share the love of Christ with others, schools were established and many families were gradually lifted out of poverty. Transformation of society occurred because disciples sought to be transformed and renewed in the image of God.

Final Thoughts and Takeaway 

Though I found the Divergent trilogy (and its prequel “Four”) to be quite the page-turner, my nightstand reading is not about to be overtaken by dystopian young adult literature. I did find relevant themes for Christian living which helped redeem the genre as a whole. Regardless of your purpose for reading, whether to develop a sermon illustration, study the art of narrative, find a way to relate to a younger family member or neighbor, or just reading for plain enjoyment, Christians should not avoid similar novels on general principle. Though a central Christ-figure is nearly always missing, a recurrent theme runs throughout this genre: that humanity is subjected to its own perversions but seeks the goodness it was originally created to express. And when considered in the light of Christianity, this theme hits close to home and is profoundly relevant for Christian disciples who seek to be in this world but not of this world.

“When 900 years old you reach, look as good you will not!”
-Yoda, “The Empire Strikes Back”

For followers of Jesus Christ, aging comes as a season of compelling and vital new purpose.

Just what if there is extraordinary promise hidden in the age of doctors’ appointments, retirement, loss of loved ones and colleagues as well as physical challenges? What if aging doesn’t make you disposable, but rather indispensible? What if you ask Father, Son and Holy Spirit to sweep away the voices that call into question your relevance, your purpose and your gifts? What if you asked for grace to believe that God has a purpose for you, here, now?

There is great power in aging. The body may feel feeble; the soul may feel sapped of strength; but the accumulation of years is an extraordinary gift that can produce unimaginable impact – if wielded well. People often miss the power of their own age.

Sometimes we do not prepare ourselves for aging; we are uncomfortable, perhaps, thinking about the unknown, or fearing it. We fear a picture of aging that we paint for ourselves in which we look unrecognizable in the mirror, face an obsolete existence and are marginalized from the “real action” of living. But that great inspirer of John Wesley, Bishop Jeremy Taylor, counsels us: “let us prepare our minds against changes, always expecting them, that we be not surprised when they come.” Curiously, this excellent advice comes in the middle of his discussion on contentedness.

Let’s look at some lives that found profound purpose when they had reached profound age. These simple people found keeping covenant as an indispensable aspect of aging with purpose, on purpose. What priceless value there is in keeping covenant!

If you have a moment, read Genesis 17. Have you ever noticed that other than a general sketch of his extended family, where they settled, and whom he married, we do not get any stories of Abraham’s childhood or young adult years? Of all the great stories and colorful experiences that the book of Genesis tells us about Abraham, all that action picks up when he moves away in response to God’s promise at the age of 75.

God invites Abram into covenant by promising descendents – descendents that would outnumber the stars. This nation would inherit land; they would be blessed, and be a blessing, if they, too, chose to keep covenant with God; and from this nation would sprout the Messiah.

But for now, Abram is old, and he and Sarai have no children or grandchildren.

God establishes a covenant, full to the brim with promises, marks it by giving Abram and Sarai new names to reflect the coming reality of these promises, and commands Abraham to keep the covenant. Keeping the covenant, of course, doesn’t mean to avoid losing it, as you keep a receipt in your wallet. Keeping covenant is illustrated by the newly-reformed Ebenezer Scrooge’s promise to “keep Christmas” – to preserve, to maintain, to fulfill, to be faithful to.

Happily, we can skim ahead and see that Sarah gives birth to Isaac. Abraham did not get to skim ahead. Abraham kept covenant by acting on faith in a reality that was not yet: painfully so! He circumcised all the men of his household; he himself was circumcised before Sarah ever felt the fluttering of a baby in her womb; before he held his newborn son in his arms. He believed God’s promise that there was yet purpose in his age, and he acted on faith in God before he ever witnessed the screaming infant-proof.

This covenant between God and Abraham was vital, not just for Abraham’s self-interest in his desire to have a child, to have grandkids; this covenant was for the redemption of the world. And every generation had to decide for itself whether it would keep covenant with God, and we read those stories over and over again in the Old Testament.

How are you like Abraham? How are you like Sarah?

Keeping covenant may sometimes look a lot like Richard Foster’s A Celebration of Discipline: fulfilling and maintaining the practices of our faith in life together. But keeping covenant has a richer dimension when it’s in the context of seasoned age, in the same way that marriage has a richer dimension at a 50th wedding anniversary. By the time you are “aged,” your faith has weathered many years; and because of the accumulated experiences of a lifetime, or the challenging experiences associated with aging itself, you may find your faith tired, or tested, or perhaps a bit brittle and cynical.

That is why, above and beyond the practice of personal faith, keeping covenant matters so much as you age: because there is the temptation not to. And your faithful keeping of the covenant, even through years of struggle, or deep loss, or physical pain, does not go unnoticed.

And now let’s look at a lesser-known pair of aged covenant-keepers: Lois and Eunice, found in 2 Timothy 1:3-7.

Paul’s words at the beginning of his letter to the young pastor Timothy are fascinating: “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” While the writer of Hebrews reminds us that “we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” Paul reminds Timothy of the covenant keepers in his own immediate family tree – Grandma Lois and Mama Eunice. Keeping faith – the kind that was “accounted” to Abraham for righteousness; the kind that inspired the hall of faith in Hebrews 11; keeping this covenant with God by faith made a difference in Timothy’s life. Because of those women Paul called out by name, Timothy witnessed the faith of covenant-keepers. And when Timothy decided also to keep faith, he ministered to bodies of believers in the early church. And to encourage him in ministry, Paul wrote to him, and we have these letters to inspire, guide and encourage our own faith today. That’s right: Grandma Lois’ faithfulness in keeping covenant got a shout-out in the Bible.

Your children, your children’s children, or your nieces and nephews – they witness the ways you keep covenant with God and with the church.

There is a kind woman named Eleanor who lives in the Midwest. She quietly keeps covenant – living a life infused with prayer and a gentle love of Scripture. And when she was in her 70’s, she decided to become a youth group sponsor. That’s right! She stayed up with the youth at all-night lock-ins. She went spelunking in caves with them on their camping trip. Instead of being with the adults during Wednesday night services, she sat and met with the youth group, occasionally offering comment or reflection. Her life uncovered one of the secrets of aging with purpose: keeping covenant. And in a time in which technology moves at lightning pace, the church is called to practice counter-cultural values of celebrating the value of ordinary, everyday covenant keepers, especially those seasoned with age.

So how can you renew your vision of yourself as a valued, valuable covenant-keeper?

Let’s consider engaging in what may seem a rather surprising suggestion. In order to refresh and renew your sense of purpose in aging; in order to reflect on your own role as a covenant keeper, and the value of simply not giving up; in order to embrace God’s covenant with you; in order to remind yourself regularly of God’s promises – what if you celebrated Holy Communion weekly?

It is in the ritual of the Lord’s Supper, after all, that God’s offer of covenant through Jesus Christ is acted out, regularly receiving the promise of the new covenant: “In the same way, after the supper he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you’” (Luke 22:20). As Bishop Jeremy Taylor described long ago: “it is sufficient to thee that Christ shall be present to thy soul as an instrument of grace, as a pledge of the resurrection, as the earnest [guarantee] of glory and immortality, and a means of many blessings, even all such as are necessary for thee, and are in order to thy salvation.”

And remember this wisdom that Taylor wrote and Wesley read: “for that life is not best which is longest: and when they are descended into the grave it shall not be inquired how long they have lived, but how well.”

May you keep the covenant well.

This is the fourth sermon (first HERE) in a series entitled “The Shadow of a Doubt.” Rev. Talbot Davis preached this at Good Shepherd United Methodist Church in Charlotte, NC.

I have known for several years that on some level behavior precedes doubt.

In other words, we don’t arrive at our shadow of doubt by objective analysis of relevant facts; instead, most of us begin to act a certain way and then circle back around and develop some doubts to substantiate that behavior.

We don’t think our way into doubting.  We (mis)behave our way into it.

It’s the kind of thing Psalm 14 teaches if you take the time to dig.  So I dug.  And along with that study came  the bottom line for doubt’s origin here:

Doubt justifies disobedience but surrender magnifies understanding.

We like finding out where things come from, don’t we? The origins of things.  That question is the source of some of the human race’s most intense scientific speculation:  where did the world (and the universe it’s in) come from and where did our particular human species come from?  And scientists have reached some kind of consensus that in the recesses of time there was actually a BIG BANG that is ultimately the source, the origin, of all we see.  Agnostics give that Big Bang a scientific explanation; people of faith tend to say more simply: God spoke – BANG – and it was.  But we’re interested in all kinds of origins. On things bad and good; ugly and beautiful. Where did the HIV virus originate?  Where did the beauty of a monarch butterfly originate?  Where do mosquitoes come from? (Wetlands!)

And on the more positive side, what parent hasn’t dreaded that moment when your eight-year-old turns and asks, “where do babies come from?”  We’re interested in origins; we like to know where things ultimately come from. But have you ever wondered where doubts come from?  Their origins?  What is the Big Bang that tends to produce doubts?  I mean, we all have some level of doubt – it’s why this thing is called the Christian faith, not the Christian certainty.  But where do they start?  Whether it’s the kind of doubts and uncertainties that I’ve decided I can live with – what’s the deal with dinosaurs? what about people who never hear about Christ? – or the kind of doubting you may have seen or gone through in college – you know, when the college professor of philosophy or comparative religion was so smart, so shrewd, and they have a knack for chopping the Christian faith of their students right down.  You knew at some level you weren’t educated or mentally agile enough to engage in debate, and so your faith felt like it was perpetually stuck in a second grade Sunday School class:  why do you believe?  Because my parents did.  It’s hard to measure up.  Where do those kinds of sophisticated, superior doubts come from?

Or even worse, the kind of doubt you may have seen or lived when you ultimately decide, “nope, that’s not me anymore.  I used to believe a little but no more.”  Where do those doubts come from?  And will locating doubt’s Big Bang origin in any way help us to stop dwelling in its shadow and move beyond it?

This may make Psalm 14:1 seem like an odd place to answer those questions, beginning as it does with more than a little aggression:

“The fool says in his heart,
‘There is no God.'”

So from the perspective of biblical wisdom, disbelieving in God’s existence or living like you do is the apex of arrogance and folly.  And given our image of the super-intellectual doubter – people like Richard Dawkins, Carl Sagan, and Christopher Hitchens  – you might think the next line in Psalm 14:1 would be:  “he sits in the ivory tower and writes books,” or “he hangs out with East Coast elites and pontificates at trendy bars,” or “he corrupts the minds of young collegians,” or “he weighed all the options carefully and still made the wrong choice,” or “he dug for bones for a living and became convinced there was more evidence for dinosaurs than for God.”  I mean, really, that’s our expectation for a description of how it happens that a person comes to believe in his heart there is no God.

Except that’s not what comes next in Psalm 14:1.  Instead, look at 14:1b and c:

“They are corrupt, their deeds are vile;
there is no one who does good.”

Ahhh, the Psalm goes immediately to deeds: what people do; how they act, how violence and revenge govern their interactions.  And then the Psalm becomes incredibly comprehensive in 14:3:

“All have turned away, all have become corrupt;
there is no one who does good,
not even one.”

By the way, Paul, in writing the New Testament book Romans uses this Psalm and this verse in particular to articulate a compelling argument on our sin nature. It’s where we get the term “original sin.”  Yet from the perspective of the Psalm’s logic, it’s almost like it works backwards.  These deeds, this corruption, that totality of sin piles one on top of the other, act upon act, and finally the perpetrator – the one Psalm 14 calls the fool – decides, “Nope! There is no God.”  See, I look at the way the logic flows, I look at what it doesn’t say and the conclusion is inescapable:  the disobedience, the behavior, the sin, the deeds come first and then the doubt follows.  We don’t come by our doubts innocently.

It’s very rare that people explore all the options and come to a head-only belief that there is no God, or at least one who is remotely interested in what we do.  It’s much more common that people behave in a certain way, adopt a frankly self-centered mode of living and then, as if to substantiate it, decide and declare that any God who might possibly disapprove simply does not exist.  Here’s how it circles back around:  doubt justifies disobedience.

It’s a pattern I’ve noticed in atheists both famous and anonymous.  You investigate their back stories and it is almost never an unbiased review of evidence that led to their conclusion; it starts with a behavior, a pattern, an outlook that gets settled deep inside the person and then it becomes, “oh, I don’t believe in the God who didn’t want me to do that thing.”  Doubt is to justify what you are already doing.  Remove God, remove guilt, remove accountability, remove correction.  You remove God so that you can become one and then do as you please.  I’ve seen it all over, even in church.  Money, sex, and anger seem to be the primary areas.

In our denomination we have a whole collection of church leaders in other parts of the country who’ve decided they are smarter than the Bible when it comes to sexual boundaries.  It’s not the doubt of atheism like what appears in Psalm 14, but it is the doubt that can cause you to decide the Bible no longer applies.  And these leaders and teachers often couch their suddenly-smarter-than-the-Bible position in terms of helping others and extending love. Yet when some of the stories go a bit deeper you discover, “Nope.  There’s quite a bit of self-interest involved.  People want to indulge themselves sexually and still keep their jobs.”  Doh! Less principle and more convenience.  Doubt justifies the disobedience that’s already going on.  I may be a know-it-all, but I am not smarter than the people who wrote the Bible when it comes to boundaries for sexual intimacy.

I tell you all that to say this:  if you are harboring doubts, if you are thinking of leaving the faith because of questions you have, what’s really going on?  What’s honestly behind it all?  Is it the desire to spend your money as you wish and not as some 3,000-year-old text commands you to?  Is it the anger you want to express, either physically at those you love or digitally at those you hate?  Is it the affair you are contemplating, the one you’re having, the one that just ended?  Are you truthfully, honestly like the nervous guy who came to the confessional booth one time and blurted out, “my sin is full of life!”  Will you be honest enough to acknowledge the sort of selfish, mostly ego-based origin of all those doubts?  Will you take that kind of personal inventory?  It’s not that you truly don’t believe in God, you just want to remove God so you can become one . . . do whatever . . . the hell . . . you want to do.  Doubt justifies disobedience.

However. Except. But.  We’re not at the end of Psalm 14 by a long shot.  Look at 14:6:

“You evildoers frustrate the plans of the poor,
but the Lord is their refuge.”

The strong-armed atheists of this Psalm don’t know that the people who appear weak and humble and pitiful actually have the Lord on their side.  And in that refuge there is a marvelous combination of strength and clarity. Look at 14:7:

“Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!
When the Lord restores his people,
let Jacob rejoice and Israel be glad!”

There is coming a time when oppression against believers ceases and faithful people know the source of their deliverance.  Not the Big Bang of their doubt, but the Big Bang of their deliverance!  They’re given the insight here to see below and beneath the surface events – why it is that seemingly wicked people prosper on earth – and into the heart and will of God.  You know what that means?  Doubt may justify disobedience but surrender magnifies understanding.

Yes!  Sometimes you’ve got to do in order to know.  You follow the instructions,  the commands, the teachings without complete clarity and along the way you discover:  “Oh, I get it!  That’s why he says to live this way!”  It’s the pattern of the entire Bible!  Abraham: Go. Leave your family, your property, your business, your 401K, and go to a land you don’t know.  Lord, can I have the agenda for the trip?  No, just go.  Along the way you’ll understand.  And so he did.  Moses, take your people and get out of slavery on the other side of the Red Sea.  Do what I say and leave now.  And Moses answers, what’s the plan? what shall I tell them? Tell them my name and who I am and that’s enough.  Along the way, you’ll understand.

And Jesus to Peter, the fisherman son of a fisherman.  Peter, come follow me and I’ll make you fishers of men.  Peter: who’s keeping the books? (Judas!) Who’s your right hand man? What’s the plan?  When are you coming back?  Jesus answers: Not for you to know the times and seasons, Peter, just come with me and you’ll discover along the way.  People:  they all followed first and comprehended second!  As if it is, “Oh, once I did this, I got that!”  And it hasn’t stopped being true!

It’s true with generosity: what would more strengthen your doubts than this archaic Old Testament notion of 10% going to God and then a New Testament crew of people who gave more than that!  It’s so tempting to say, “I don’t believe in a God who would ask that! Doesn’t he know I’ve got taxes, alimony, insurance?”  Yet I hear from those of you who follow on this – word after word after word – and you say “I did it and it worked! I understand!”  Goodness, in our own house we’ve been committed to some New Testament levels of giving for years and my wife’s company was sold to private equity. Everybody around Julie lost their jobs. Except her. No explanation but God.

It’s true in the realm of sexual intimacy.  Talk about an area where people want to doubt so they can justify behavior!  But then, I run across these exceedingly odd yet inordinately blessed couples – young adults and middle age! – who wait, and they realize that abstinence before marriage reinforces fidelity after it.  Oh! This command that cramped my style ended up saving my life!  I get it now!  The same is true with how you express your anger, how you refrain from gossip, how you bless people you could manipulate.  Just because you think it doesn’t mean you must say it.  Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.  You show your relational power by restraining it . . . and then God lets you know this is why it works better. It’s just like Jesus.

If you’re in the middle of a season of doubt, surrender to that which you do not fully understand.  Follow first, and comprehension will come.  Because here’s what I truly believe happens when you surrender to that inconvenient, unpredictable, madly-in-love-with-you Savior:  you start on a road in the dark but the longer you walk, follow, and submit, the more clear become the ways and will of God.  And you’ll experience the Big Bang, not of doubt, but of your own living relationship with Jesus Christ.

I’m not an athlete. People who know me would confirm that readily and likely with eye rolling agreement. But I love athletics. I enjoy watching physically talented people who passionately commit themselves to their sport. I admire their dedication to training, to doing whatever is necessary to be the best.

There’s a training exercise in tennis that I find especially intriguing – not just because I can’t play tennis to save my life, but because of the larger meaning that it provides me as I seek to follow Jesus. This training exercise focuses on readiness. Players face the coach and run in place on the balls of their feet. They watch for the coach’s signal to move to either left or right, up or back. Until the coach gives the sign, the athletes hold in readiness. That’s a crucial skill, to be able to hold yourself in readiness. There’s a big difference between being on the balls of your feet and sitting back on your heels – it can mean the difference between points won or lost.

It’s not easy to hold yourself in readiness. You have to be alert, your entire body engaged and prepared to move. You have to be focused, intent on watching for the necessary sign. You have to be willing to act, following the signal the moment it arrives.

All this is true for tennis players, and it’s also true for followers of Jesus. We have to train ourselves in readiness. We have to cultivate a heart that holds itself in readiness. We need to be alert, engaged with our entire beings – not just our heads, not just our hearts – our whole selves, held in readiness.

It’s a matter of focus. You can’t be facing inward and be ready – you’ve got to be facing outward. You can’t be worried about your own desires and preferences and be ready – you’ve got to be concerned with what’s going on beyond yourself.

The ability to hold yourself in readiness. Important in tennis. Crucial in following Jesus.

A church volunteer I encountered recently described himself as ‘that donkey tied to a tree in Jerusalem, just waiting for Lord to have need of him.’ That guy knows how to hold himself in readiness.

Jesus closed his parable of the ten bridesmaids with this reminder: “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.” (Matthew 25:13). This isn’t just instruction for the end of our life, it’s instruction for the whole of our life. We are to live our lives on the balls of our feet, holding ourselves in readiness.

How do you hold yourself in readiness? What new experiences have you encountered because you were ready? What have you missed because you weren’t?

It’s nearing the end of summer and there is a pretty good chance, if you are a Methodist or attending a church in the Wesleyan tradition that either your church newsletter or weekly bulletin is currently showcasing upcoming Bible studies or spiritual formation classes under a banner headline, “Fall Discipleship Opportunities.”It might be that there is an advertised afternoon volunteer for a project in the community. If so, you are in pretty good company as it means your congregation’s leadership has been proactive about recruiting persons to head up this essential component that fosters health in congregations. If your newsletter or bulletin isn’t advertising for upcoming classes – hold fast! It might be that the next one you receive will be doing just that!

As you peruse the menu of offerings it is not uncommon to ask, “I wonder if I am prepared to sign up for this course?”or “Should I do this class….or maybe I should try this study?”or even, “Do they really want me to volunteer?”It’s always helpful to ask someone in leadership or a friend you know who has taken a study because it can be easy to feel intimidated or overwhelmed by the possibilities that lie before us.

Unfortunately, some of us will decide to opt out because either we don’t think we have the background and we will be in over our heads or we remember that we did a study similar to that a few years back and it doesn’t seem worth our while this time round. Truth be told, we are susceptible to falling into patterns ingrained in us during our formal education in high school or college as teenagers and young adults. Just as then, we are apt to decide from the course catalogue that a particular study is “too hard”or another is “too easy”and not worth our while. Often, we pigeon hole discipleship as something necessary for new Christians who do not know the Bible or feel comfortable praying out loud, yet. Alternately, it is possible to think that discipleship is reserved for the “super”Christian – the seasoned believer who seems to have a handle on their faith. And there are some of us who volunteer for a service project because we want to see tangible results – if we are willing to make that commitment at all!

The truth is this: every Christian – regardless of our stage in faith – is in need of discipleship! And here is another important thing: I am not just referring to an 8-week class or a long term study. Discipleship, attending to your relationship with God, is more than a class – it is a way of life! Discipleship is to literally respond to the call of Jesus, “Follow me!”As disciples of Jesus, our discipleship is to discover what it means to become like Jesus. John Wesley often referred to discipleship as “having the mind that was in Christ so to walk in the way that he walked.”Another way Wesley discussed the idea of discipleship was with the phrase “holiness of heart and life.”In short, our discipleship entails being like Jesus, so we can do like Jesus.

Discovering what it means to be like Jesus in a constantly changing world means each and every Christian can benefit from another opportunity to intentionally engage learning what it means to be Jesus’disciple. Discipleship is a lifelong endeavor! For most of us, our discipleship benefits from joining a Bible study or becoming a part of a group exploring various prayer practices – or even learning how to pray! But our discipleship is not measured by our small group experience. We experience the mind that was in Christ and walk in the way of Christ when we engage our everyday life – answering the phone, responding to emails, or shuttling the kids to and from their various activities.

When we take advantage of a Bible study of spiritual formation class at church or in the home of a neighbor, we are intentionally cultivating our discipleship by opening our hearts and minds to learn what it means to be like Jesus. When we enlist to serve lunch at the soup kitchen or assist in the construction of a local building project, we are intentionally cultivating our discipleship by earnestly offering our particular gifts and talents – our strengths – and doing as Jesus did. It is important to carve out intentional times and places where we learn and rediscover what it means to love the Lord with all our heart, our mind, our soul and our strength.

It is equally important to have those “in between times”to reflect on our discipleship and discern how our heart, mind, soul, and strength are integrated, demonstrating our love for God and for our neighbor – times that are not devoted to learning or service, but are carved out of everyday life as well. During those times we can ask if we are really loving God with our whole heart. Are we becoming more like Jesus? Are we more holy in our inward being and outward doing? Sometimes it serendipitously happens when we linger in the parking lot chatting with one another after a study or comes up in a conversation with a trusted friend over coffee or a meal. But it is especially helpful if there is a small group in your church or neighborhood that intentionally seeks to discern the integration of heart, soul, mind, and strength. Wesley called these “class”and “band”meetings. Today, we might call them “Reunion Groups”or “Accountability Groups.”The important thing is that in addition to learning what it means to be like Jesus and act like Jesus, we reflect that these classes and service projects are really affecting a change in our hearts and lives.

So, as you wonder while you examine the opportunities your local congregation is officially sponsoring, the answer is, “Yes!”There IS some sort of discipleship endeavor for you this upcoming year. If you don’t spy something that seems suited for you at your stage of the Christian journey, ask. Better yet, search your heart in prayer and see what doors God opens up! Maybe it is time for you to launch a group or begin by asking a few spiritual friends to reflect together on your discipleship; on how your heart, mind, soul, and strengths is connected with one another to express your love for God and for your neighbor!

Discipleship isn’t just education – it is a lifelong endeavor!

The church today puts a lot of focus on the need to make disciples of Jesus Christ. But do we take seriously what that work requires of us?

I’m not so sure. I am very sure, on the other hand, that we’re living in a culture that does us no favors when we even begin to approach the work of disciple-making.

Think about it. In the West, we live in a world where most things we want are within reach. We’re not good at delayed gratification. We think we have a right to gratify every felt need we have. We don’t like to suffer.

Discipline isn’t easy. That’s particularly the case when we’re talking about a discipline beyond what it takes to make it to work on time, get through the day, keep the kids fed, and pay the mortgage.

So what about the discipline required to become a disciple?

We’d like it to take about as long (and require about as much suffering) as it takes to warm up a HotPocket in the microwave. And that’s a problem.

We find the command to make disciples in the Great Commission of Matthew 28:19-20. It’s one of the best known teachings of Jesus. “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” Jesus says. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age” (RSV).

It’s the mission statement for the whole Christian church! It couldn’t be clearer what Christ Jesus wants his followers to be busy doing.

So how do we do it?

I want to ignore the cultural challenges we face in disciple-making for a minute and instead turn to the deep spirituality around faith formation in the Wesleyan tradition. I believe the latter offers a wonderful context for how to understand disciple-making.

Disciples are not made overnight, in truth. They’re made through a process of formation that takes a great deal of time and dedication. Here are four Wesleyan commitments that can help us think about that process—

1. Being comes before Doing

John Wesley explains in “The Character of a Methodist” what he thinks is distinctive about Methodist identity. He says that it has nothing to do with different opinions or customs about things that don’t strike at the heart of the Christian faith.

So what is a Methodist, then? Wesley says, “I answer: a Methodist is one who has ‘the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost given unto him’; one who ‘loves the Lord his God with all his heart, and with all his soul, and with all his mind, and with all his strength’. God is the joy of his heart, and the desire of his soul, which is constantly crying out, ‘Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee!’ My God and my all! Thou art the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever!” (¶5).

In other words, becoming a disciple is first about receiving new birth by the Holy Spirit. It is about being filled with the love of Christ—knowing that because of Christ you have been adopted into the family of God. It’s about receiving God’s saving grace and knowing yourself as forgiven. Discipleship is about being before it is about doing.

2. Holiness always moves from heart to life

Wesley’s favorite phrase to describe the life of sanctification is “holiness of heart and life.” There’s a lot wrapped up in those five words. We are made holy by grace, and this happens to us through an inward renewal of the heart. When that renewal begins, though, the experience is going to radiate outward into every aspect of our lives.

So “holiness of heart and life” is a kind of shorthand for describing a type of discipleship that is authentic and real just because it has taken root within us and then begun to express itself in our daily living.

In his sermon, “Upon our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount, IV,” Wesley describes the heart-to-life rhythm this way: “Love cannot be hid any more than light; and least of all when it shines forth in action, when ye exercise yourselves in the labour of love, in beneficence of every kind” (¶II.2). So there is a deep inward spirituality to true holiness, but that spirituality is ultimately directed outwardly through active form of discipleship. That’s also the logic of what it means to love both God and neighbor!

3. Trust that God’s grace will be found in the means that God provides

For Wesley, the practices that he calls the means of grace lie at the heart of practical Christian living. He calls the primary means of grace “instituted” because he sees them as instituted by Jesus Christ in the gospels. Prayer, Searching the Scriptures, Fasting, the Lord’s Supper, and Christian fellowship are given to us by Christ through his teaching and personal example. Thus, we can expect that Christ will meet us in them when we practice them faithfully in our own lives as well.

If we take Wesley’s counsel about the importance of the means of grace seriously, we will begin to see how revolutionary Wesleyan spirituality really is. He believes that the means of grace should be the defining pattern of daily life for a Christian believer. Not our consumer choices, not our workaday jobs, and not our entertainment or extracurricular preferences—rather, it is the daily and disciplined use of the means of grace that are the characteristic mark of the Christian life. If this sounds difficult or even dreary, then it is only because we are so tied to consumerist materialism that we have a hard time imagining another way to live.

For Wesley’s part, he believed that the transformation we can experience by grace gives us the only real happiness we can know in this world. In the sermon, “The Important Question,” Wesley says that the “fruits of love” we experience through our use of the means of grace within a community of other Christians “are means of increasing the love from which they spring; and of consequence they increase our happiness in the same proportion” (¶III.4).

4. Practices of Piety are intimately linked to Practices of Mercy

The instituted means of grace are what Wesley elsewhere calls “works of piety.” They are practices of worship and devotion. But there are other practices that Christians engage in. These are the “works of mercy” that Jesus points us toward when he speaks of finding him in the context of feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and showing hospitality to the stranger (Matthew 25:31-40). When we pursue this work of compassion and justice, we find that the works of mercy, too, are true means of grace.

In Wesley’s teaching, piety and mercy go hand-in-hand. “But what are the steps which the Scripture directs us to take, in the working out of our own salvation?” Wesley asks in the sermon, “On Working Out Our Own Salvation.” We should always “be zealous of good works, of works of piety, as well as works of mercy,” he says (¶II.4). Wesley does not believe authentic discipleship can ever exclude one or the other. Indeed, he seems to believe that they mutually reinforce one another: our practices of devotion and worship ready us for works of mercy, while actively pursuing compassion and justice in the world reveal to us the deep need for a life of piety.

These four Wesleyan commitments for disciple-making may not sound like good news to the person who is enthralled with the easy-as-you-please culture of our present day. It may just give us the right insight into what it really takes to make a disciple of Jesus Christ, though.

Discipleship is not about techniques and gimmicks. It doesn’t happen HotPocket-quick. It is about being formed in a way of life over the course of time, and with a deep immersion into the practices of the Christian faith. We’ll find transformation in that process, too, and it will reveal within us something we’d never dream of otherwise.

I wish Jesus described himself as the “donut of life” instead the “bread of life.” It just makes a little more sense that way. It would make my preaching easier too. That is what I want – I want a donut. We know that one does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God, so why not throw in some pastry goodness once in a while, God?

I live in a donut culture. It seems that we are no longer satisfied with that which daily satisfies unless it is sugared up. The majority of us are serving them right on up each and every Sunday.

Public confession time – I like donuts. I have traveled throughout the United States and Europe in search of the perfect donut. In each culture I tasted (along with a nice cup of coffee) simple and basic ingredients made up into the glorious thing we call the morning donut. By the way – the donut is like eating a piece of cake for breakfast, which is another one of my favorite things to do.  It was not on a snowy winter morning in Stockholm, or in a spring filled Paris coffee shop, or in Berlin’s smorgasbord of pastry shops that the best donut was found – oddly it is in the small bakery down the street from my childhood home. They don’t even have a place to sit down, let alone any sense of atmosphere – what they do have is phenomenal donuts. That is what they do and they do it well. They don’t want you hanging out all day getting in the way. Their whole vibe is get in, get your stuff, and get out because you are holding up the line.

A donut is quick and it is accessible. You eat it while you drive to work and hope not to spill the crème or junk in the middle down your shirt. Everyone at your office will judge you for being the person who couldn’t take two minutes to have a sensible breakfast and decided to be the dude who slurps donuts each morning. Welcome to Lazytown, we’ve been expecting you. But I just love donuts, don’t you? Once you taste it you know. It’s fresh, it’s good, and you want more of it.

Here is the problem: I can’t thrive on donuts. Sure, I might be able to survive but what kind of life is that? Donut in – donut energy out. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, but a donut a day – wait I just forgot what I was going to say because I fell asleep after my donut sugar crash. Jesus as the donut of life is appealing for us to sink our teeth into, to experience, and to believe in. The problem is that this Jesus leaves us with a similar sugar crash afterwards. The hard teachings or call of discipleship could leave a bad taste in our mouths.

Jesus does not give us the option for the donut of life. He talked about bread. Poor Jesus. I feel bad for him for not being able to experience the joy of donuts, but I guess that’s why he is so skinny and handsome in all of the paintings in my church. He is the bread, so we have to speak about the bread. Bread actually engages the body to produce the sugar that the body needs.

My father is going through a period in his life where he has to monitor his sugar and other stuff like that. For a period of time he gave up drinking beer and eating bread. I was shocked and amazed when he said the thing he missed the most was the bread. Who is this man and what have you done with my father? Sometimes we can take for granted the daily part of bread life. We understand how much we need it and miss it when it’s gone. Bread is actually more important than what we give it credit for. Just go to a restaurant with your pregnant spouse and watch their reaction if bread isn’t on the table in a jiffy. Bread is important.

God is in the midst of the normal – not just the fantastic, chocolate and sprinkled covered parts of life. God’s presence is made real when we take simple elements, like bread, and share it. This is why we should stick to what he invites us to do – offer the bread.