The “Come follow Me” Principle

Discipleship is a thorny and difficult to discuss issue in the Body of Christ. First of all there is argument about the actual meaning of the word “discipleship”

1. Some people think of it as a state of personal total submission to God. You have “discipleship” when you are a sold out believer. This is generally what’s meant by the book by Bonhoffer “The Cost of Discipleship.”
2. Additionally people may think of it as a personal process of submission to God.
3. On the other hand others think of it as some kind of mentoring process. You are embracing “discipleship” when you are either mentoring or being mentored by another believer.

None of these fully satisfies though. On the one hand, we really are to be Christ’s disciples, so to talk about discipleship as mentoring, I believe confuses the issue. It always tends to imply that you as a person make a disciple of another person. It’s never that simple and you should not become the focus– Christ makes them a disciple through a variety of experiences, and people, but you may have a particularly important role, but the focus has to remain on Christ.

Paul says “follow me as I follow Christ.” Now this is a principle we can latch onto. He does not say “submit to me as I follow Christ” but “follow me.” In other words, I’m going somewhere in pursuit of God and I want you to come along, because in the process we’re both going to be transformed into God’s image. Mutual Pursuit I believe is a key principle of Jesus that transcends the desire for foundation laying or being sold out, per se. So perhaps it’s something in addition to a definition of “discipleship” but I believe that Christians are supposed to see their activities as initiations. By bringing others in who are less mature/less able/less passionate in a certain area, we spread our God given gifts to others.

In the Christian life we are supposed to have an additude of inviting others into whatever Godly pursuit we are in. If we do it alone, only we benefit, but if we do it with someone else, we create a virus of growth. For example, Jaime and I are pursuing a Godly family. Now it’s not enough to just do that for ourselves, but we should look for opportunities to invite younger people into the fruit of our labor by staying with us or hanging around us. This might involve very little explicit instruction on our part, but leaves an eternal deposit in the other person. The same if you are running a ministry, etc. Instead of telling people to “join” things all of the time, you bring them along into it. “Follow me, as I follow Christ” not “Go and do what you are supposed to do for Christ.” It’s love and leadership, not lordship.

Now do people need to learn to follow, and learn to submit, and be corrected in order to truly be disciples? Absolutely, but I might argue that generally speaking the best context to learn these things is in the corporate body, not a one on one relationship. Thoughts?

The Conversion Process

Since the advent of the Reformation the Church has recognized the importance of being converted, born again, etc. However our understanding of what this process is and means has gone through a long development process.

In the early days of the Reformation, everyone in a locale went to church, so they were always preaching real conversion to those who attended. They expected this conversion to be a process, not a definite moment per se.

In the 19th century Finney began to place an emphasis on a moment of definite decision. It was more than a simple decision, however, it was understood to imply a change of life direction, and they created an “anxious bench” for those who were seeking God to be converted.

Charles Spurgeon talks about examining his converts over a period of time as well. By the time of Moody there was more of an emphasis on encounters, and by the time of Billy Graham, it was a single event of decision with follow up, which led directly to what we experience in church today.

Clearly we needed to move away from an interminable process with no definite results to a definite encounter with God. It seems now that we’ve gone too far. It is easy to become cynical when salvation is secretly slipping a hand up in the back. Is that really what the gospel has in mind when it talks about conversion? The typical reaction to this tendency has been to “preach harder” or “more law” or “against sin” and I just don’t see this as the Biblical resolution to the issue. That’s not saying that there is not a place for preaching against sin, just that making all messages harder to swallow is not guaranteed to produce more high quality converts either. In fact, most of what I observe is guys getting on a prideful hobby horse which condemns rather than liberates. It’s the “call down fire”, “Boanerges” spirit.

On the one hand, the call to follow Jesus is a radical and total one. On the other hand, the conversions we see in Acts do not involve an “anxious bench” either. They are definite moments. Every salvation is both a process and a moment. I believe where we err is in declaring the salvation at the wrong moment. We want to declare someone saved who was moved by a sermon, and that is a wonderful desire, but I believe that instead of being locked and loaded with the sinners prayer, we should be ready with the full gospel of surrender to God, including an explanation of what it fully means, including being water baptized right away, repenting of known sin, etc. We disserve people when we do not give them the full explanation. The main way we disserve them is that with some proper counsel someone who would have otherwise prayed a prayer and fallen away, will continue to marinate and make a full profession. In other words if you were stirred by a message, rather than give you the expectation that secretly raising your hand and “repeating after me” is salvation we should bring these fish in and “see what we caught.” A little examination will reveal that

1. some were already saved, but need help,
2. some are ready for a full salvation,
3. some are starting on a process of salvation where we can help them,
4. and still others have not heard the Spirit rightly and need to be properly instructed.

This is not a substitute for high quality discipleship, but really is a pre-requisite. When someone shows no passion for serving God, but is “saved” we should go back to the root and see what they thought they got. They may be “saved” but in a faulty or incomplete way. In my case, I know when I responded to the Gospel and was “saved” but it was many years before I entered into the fullness of what that all meant–but I did know and understand implicitly that this meant “doing the right thing” in my life and following Jesus. Many people in these “raise your hand” moments don’t see that. They really see fire insurance, or a free condo in Spain or something. Such people will not be converted. In my case, I was really converted, but needing of a fuller understanding and discipleship. Because Christ was in me, that all eventually came out, but it was a lot longer than it should have been.

Therefore, my basic theory is that we do not have to modify what we preach — there are many kinds of appeals that may “catch” a fish, as Jesus and the apostles show. And I also would say that better discipleship is a misdirected solution as well. Discipleship begins where conversion leaves off. It’s so hard to disciple an unbeliever! The missing piece is a conversion “process.” I do believe in definite assurance, and praying a prayer, but only after examination and counting the cost. Nothing says that the first time you respond to an altar call is when you need to get saved. When you are ready to repent and be baptized, you are ready to be saved. Before that you really are in a state of inquiry. If the Church recognizes that, it will help you down the path, and perhaps save your eternal soul.

God and Sentimentalism

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I am really turned off by sentimentalism. You know, those remarks like, “Bless his little heart, isn’t he just an ANGEL?!? Look at him. Isn’t that the most PRECIOUS thing you have EVER seen in your LIFE?!?” Even as a mother of three tender boys under 4yrs old, I still can’t always relate to the remarks, trinkets, and momentos that mothers store away painstakingly in fragile boxes or baby books to immortalize their infant’s lives. It’s not that I don’t like memorabilia–I even scrapbook occasionally–but I just don’t always feel all the tender emotions that cause me to gush over baby booties, first haircuts, smeared mealtime faces. Or prom dresses, wedding invitations, or whatever. I treasure the people these artifacts represent, but the mushy-gushy feelings don’t always come.

I feel a similar thing when I go to card stores, and especially Christian bookstores. Why am I not moved by the latest devotional book or testimonial calendar? Why do I pass over pictures of serene lighthouses and pendants with hearts and special prayers attached to them? I don’t even respond to ladies’ group Bible studies that well. I somehow feel alienated by the raisin cakes and chit-chat that I often have to make up so I don’t say anything too serious. I get wary of popular literature or songs–the more popular it is, the more I’m wary of it. I’m sure some of this experience is due to my sober personality or maybe oversensitivity. Some of it is also due to my fear of “Christianity lite” things. I fear stuff that is just pop, trendy, or cheese. I fear saccharine for the real sweetness of life in Him. I fear sentimentality because I’m afraid if I take part in it, I might not connect to the real, deep emotion of God.

Yet as I was pondering this (and repenting for being too critical of a beloved Christian author’s latest popular work), I realized that sentimentalism is a phenomenon unique to the Christian worldview. Christianity is the only religion that permits it. Can you picture a Muslim card store with all kinds of cute Muslim memorabilia? Or a Hindu one? Little Buddhist robes and incense burners that come in sixty different colors and smells for the temple that wants them to match their decor? Confuciun aointing oil jars that match the offering plates laid at the feet of the ancestors? Truly, the thought of any other religion promoting the kind of gushy, sometimes sappy stuff that Christians can is difficult. Their God (or non-God as the case may be) simply doesn’t allow it.

That made me think, What would the Christian religion look like without sentiment? What if we just got rid of it all and narrowed the inventory to the purely functional stuff?

I think we would cut out part of the identity of Christ. After all, Jesus says some pretty amazing things like, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How I longed to gather you to me as a hen does her chicks under her wings. But you would not come.” (Mt. 23:37). This can only be the statement of a loving man, intimately acquainted with the Father’s parental sentiment toward mankind. The God of the Bible also talks about his hesed or mother-type compassion on his children. David compares his soul to a weaned child within him (Ps 131:2) and pours out all kinds of wild laments. The Song of Solomon gushes. John laid on Jesus’ breast. Paul compares his gentleness to that of a nursing mother (1 Th. 2:7). Mary and Martha conveyed deep emotion the Lord Jesus resonated. I can even imagine Jesus sitting on the shore, watching His Father’s sunrises and thinking of psalms which praised them. Painting pictures of lighthouses? Well, maybe if He had the time and talent… or maybe not. But you get the point.

Now I am not trying to make God out to be feminine or trite. I’m not sure He would approve of all the sappy, Christian “lite” stuff we have in our bookstores. And His depth of emotion cannot be compared to our shallow or fleeting sentiments that we immortalize on greeting cards. However, I realize His manliness makes room for a unique sentimentality that other religions do not. He is not threatened by acts or words of compassion–even very dramatic ones. Neither is He threatened by our lighthouse portraits with random Scriptures under them, or our latest collection of handheld devotional books with a one-liner prayer each day. He has found space for them–perhaps not the most ideal expression of the emotion and substance of His creation, but also not the lowest. So maybe we can find space too. After all, in any other religious system, such displays would not be imagined. The religion simply wouldn’t have engendered the hearts of its people for that type of thing.

This made me more appreciative of the sentimental stuff. And sentimental people. I am not as quick to criticize or overserious-ize things as I once was. I admire my friend who can cry at the drop of a hat, see a point in my relative’s endless memory boxes, and understand my other friend’s grandmother who is a pro at those angelic proclamations about every baby gesture ever made. I see how they would not be able to be that way if it were not for a basically Christian background–one that values life, which treasures tiny moments, and is looking for God and His joy in the smallest things. So while you still won’t find me buying up Christian card store items, you also won’t find me not appreciating the implications of their existence anymore.

Theology and Control

A friend, struggling with making a wise decision about a career move, told me recently, “The other day I prayed that I wish God had made me a robot so He could just tell me what to do and I could obey. Then I’d feel secure.” This made me reflect on the issue of control, and God’s dealings with it.

Historically, control in the sense my friend was talking about has not been a good thing. I’m not sure which came first, the chicken or the egg, but it seems that God did not make us to be controlled beings and therefore we don’t flourish under a controlling system. When governments have been controlling–systems like communism, the radical Popes, or the Caesars have been in place–man has been tyrannized. Communist Russia under Stalin is perhaps the most extreme example, where the goal really was a robotic-like and supreme control of man, and a death toll of 15 million was the result. For more on this psychology, read Orwell’s “1984.”

Even control in the looser sense, when coupled with government, has caused revolution. The popes implicitly caused Luther’s Reformation, the English monarchs caused the Americans’, and Napoleon caused the string of wars which ravaged the 1800s. While Catholocism historically preserved empires, Reformation Christianity fostered republicanism. And while philosophical conservatism preserves authority structures, liberalism has always aimed at them. So it is worth reflecting on the principles of freedom, control, and Christianity.

When God created Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, He gave them free will to obey or disobey. Calvinists and Arminians disagree over the issue of foreordination, but a plain reading of the Scriptures indicates that Adam and Eve did have liberty to decide to obey God or not: God did not create a controlling structure where Adam and Eve were commanded or manipulated to behave each moment; He simply laid out one restriction and let them go. God even walked with Adam in the cool of the day, and there is a general atmosphere of peace and freedom as we read the early accounts.

Then, after the Fall, we see subsequent generations continuing to use their freedom for evil. Cain had the freedom to murder Abel, the men before Noah had the freedom to fill the earth with violence, Canaan had the freedom to lead a race astray, Nimrod had the freedom to build the tower of Babel, and on and on. Finally God stepped in the picture and “took control” starting with Abraham, where He called someone to Himself and began consecrating a whole race of people who would follow Him by law, circumstances, and whatever other external or governing means it took. But, as we note carefully, even Abraham and the Jews had ultimate freedom to decide to obey God or not (that is why Hebrews 11 called all the OT figures it names as doing their works “by faith”.) While God revealed Himself more fully to the Jews and literally commanded them what to do–He instituted a more controlling form of relationships–He never physically controlled or manipulated them to obey but allowed them to suffer the punishments of disobedience (i.e. the same basic relationship He had with Adam and Eve).

In the NT, God lessens His control even more. He sends Jesus, who preaches firmly, but never makes anyone accept Him. He shows the way but gives His disciples, Nicodemus, Cornelius, Zaccheus, the rich young ruler, and even Pilate a chance to make their own choice. He sends us the Holy Spirit to operate from within believers, and allows Paul to teach and administrate with a restored atmosphere of freedom because He knows the Holy Spirit is in him. Paul doesn’t wait for clouds and pillars of fire but simply goes and says the Lord hindered him three times from entering a particular city when it wasn’t His will. The original “walking with Adam in the cool of the day” atmosphere returns.

And so we conclude that today, God has still chosen to guide us from within rather from without. It is not that He never sends circumstances or voices to guide us–because He surely does–but we are not to be robots, as I sadly reminded my friend. God is a God of self-government, responsibility, and accountability. He gives us principles and firmly endorses them, and then lets us go, even as He did with Adam. And so the danger of living in a system without control–whether on a personal level with our God or an institutional level with our government–is that we still choose whether to obey or disobey… and others do too. This means that evil can happen. Rape, murder, theft, and sin can abound. Or peace and liberty can. The blessings of owning a business, having the freedom to shop, enjoying a picnic on the commons, choosing to pursue a degree (or not), and many other things are the product of a government which allows liberty. We must weigh these things carefully when we say we’d rather have more control so we could feel more secure.

Some controls seem good: welfare, Social Security, pensions, and other institutional provisions seem like a safety net should something bad happen to us. And there are valid arguments in these areas as well as others that should be carefully considered. But the principles of God’s nature and Word show us even more clearly that no system which robs man of his essentially responsibility and accountability for his own life can be godly. Any system or philosophy which allows someone else to be responsible for our decision-making (even one that looks to God or worse, blames Him, for circumstances) is moving away from the direction God intends His children to have/enjoy. Certainly having responsibility is more difficult, but in the end it only leads to more blessing. Let us keep the original vision of Adam and Eve, freely with their God in the Garden, as our model and not allow cheap substitutes which play on our fears or lusts to sneak a place in our hearts.

Body/Soul (and Spirit?)

The words, body, soul, and spirit are commonly used in Christian language to express the totality of man–his whole being. This has led some to believe that there are actually three faculties in existence. But closer analysis suggests that these words do not refer to three planes of existence (ontology) but rather three types of desires (morality): carnal, rational, and gospel. Put another way, we use the words body, soul, and spirit metaphorically, and by convention. If we were using them literally, we would be appealing to the Gnostic idea that the body is evil and provokes base desires (lustful, selfish), while the spirit is pure and causes perfectly holy desires. This leaves the soul as the neutral, passive, cognitive power which mediates these two inputs and chooses a course of action from a method of reasoning, feeling, believing, and willing. The Freudians are neo-Gnostics in this way, believing the same thing except calling the body, soul, and spirit the id, ego, and superego.

While this trichotomous schema makes common (practical) sense, it is actually a false scenario. It fits our experiences for linguistic purposes–the separation of three types of desires–but it does not befit good theology or biological investigation.

To begin with, categorizing our desires into three labels based on their level of holiness implies the Gnostic heresy that the body is evil. But the body is not evil. If anything, the mind of man is (his soul, or heart). The body is more of the neutral ground–passive, or a vessel as Scripture says–providing biological signals of needs but being conditioned and directed by the cognitive/emotional/moral interpretations of the mind. This idea is supported in Scripture when Jesus says the heart of the man defiles him and rebukes those who say “do not eat, do not touch.” Augustine believed this too, saying that it is the lust in the flesh that is evil, not the flesh itself. Scripture says no man hates his body.

Plus, distinguishing the soul from the body (or the soul from the spirit) is a tricky thing. In Catholic writings, the soul is usually equated with the mind. Or sometimes it means the heart of man–his passions, pursuits, etc. It is what distinguishes man from beast, and carries the image of God stamped on it (as compared to the body which, like the bodies of animals, is simply God’s handiwork). This implies that the spirit is something separate–a different immaterial substance that is pure because it is not connected to the depraved body or mind of man in any way. But even this is inconsistent because sometimes in Catholic writings the spirit is said to be perverse or impure. Jesus clearly identified demonic spirits. Shouldn’t they have said perverse or demonic “souls”? So in actuality, using “spirit” or “spiritual” as a synonym for pure godliness is not categorical. Instead, spirit in the Bible is the immaterial part of man that belies his citizenship/allegiance (either to God or to Satan).

Biological evidence also clouds the distinction between body, soul, and spirit. For example, most people say the body is lustful because it drives the biological (selfish) desires to eat, sleep, copulate, etc. But is this true? Is it not, in most cases, the mind (soul) which drives the individual to eat, sleep, or copulate? Certainly the body sends signals that it is hungry, thirsty, tired, or in need of sexual gratification. But the body, like all Creation, was created good, so it is not the drives in themselves which are bad. In all cases, the mind makes the decision to do these things or not, and how, no matter what the body signals. More often than not, in peaceful Western life, our mind drives us to do things without waiting for signals from the body: we choose to eat what/when we want, sleep when we’re not tired (or stay up when we are), fulfill sexual desires when/how we want, etc. And the result is that the mind inflicts “needs” upon the body that it did not originally have. Much biological research proves it is our “brains” which are addicted to most of the things we crave: sugar, fat, salt, alcohol, caffeine, nicotine, thrill, peace, etc. But is not the brain the seat of “the mind”? Does not our alterered biological state–initiated by the lust in the mind (heart, soul)–bear some innocence to our crimes? How then can we neatly separate the soul from the body?

Of course we cannot. We cannot have cognitive desires apart from the body, nor can we have bodily desires without the mind. Put another way, if we had no mind, we would not sin in the body–but if we had no body, we could not have any knowledge of sin. This strikes at the heart of the mind-body problem which has been famously worked on since Descartes’ time. The separation of mind and brain is very difficult and has been likened by cognitive psychologists to the computer science analogy of the brain being the hardware and the mind’s content being the software. This is a helpful analogy to desribe the essential difference between matter (body) and non-matter (thought)– i.e. software is made of up bits–information–which is distinct from hardware which is made of metal pieces. But the analogy breaks down when it comes to elucidating the key difference between mind and brain. Whereas the computer is dependent on the scientist to code its information, a human being somehow engenders its own information: the brain clearly supports nonmaterial thoughts that are said to be the mind, but the physical/chemical state of the brain also causes/is affected by the non-physical thoughts and emotions experienced.

Clearly, this boils down to the essence of the dichotomous view. The mind-body dichotomy is an ontological argument, not a moral or linguistic one. An ontological argument posits “what is” or “what exists.” A Christian must believe that both material and non-material things exist–the body and external world that can be perceived by the senses, and the internal world that cannot. An internal world includes both individual thoughts and emotions as well as a transcendent morality and purpose which religion aims to describe. Whereas the monist view of ontology rejects this dualism–maintaining that only what can be sensed exists–the dichotomous view accepts the reality of a non-material world. In Scripture, this is easily observed in the Creation where before any matter exists, God and His thoughts and intentions (including the moral order) exist. The immaterial world of the Spirit, then, existed indepedently of the material world which had not yet been formed. And God and his purposes still exist today–especially the higher world of morality and purpose, whether we discern or even acknowledge them.

This is the heart of the dichotomous view, and whether one uses the word soul or spirit to describe that immaterial realm is not important. What is important is the insistence of two realities, a physical one and a non-physical. But not three realities.

Why have two words then, soul and spirit? I believe if we first consider both soul and spirit as referring to the same ontological reality (the non-physical), we can then delve into possible reasons.

I have argued that the main reason is a linguistical one where we need words which refer to both the mind (will) of man and the mind (will) of God. Clearly the two are not the same, and the one wars against the other as Paul says (the flesh lusts against the spirit and the spirit against the flesh). The confusion comes in, though, because Paul uses the same word “spirit” to refer not to an ontological reality but to a moral one–one of the will. It would have been clearer, for philosophical reasons, to use different terms
like “selfishness lusts against godliness…” But I believe Paul uses “spirit” because of what the word implies–a will created by God, and of a higher purpose. And “flesh” similarly–not because the body is intrinsically evil but because his audience in that day equated it as synonymous with selfish desires.

There could be other reasons for distinguishing soul and spirit. Perhaps soul really does mean the essence of an individual’s identity (his beliefs, personhood) and spirit means more objectively, the eternal nature of man. But I’m not sure if that implies something negative for the enfeebled or unborn. For all the ways the terms seem to interchange in the Bible, I am not sure we could come up with strict definitions. And yet I would not want to argue that soul and spirit were exactly the same unless it could be proven so.

Still, an ontological distinction between soul and spirit is not warranted. In the beginning of Creation, for example, the Spirit of God hovered over the waters. But God clearly thought, felt, and willed Creation into being at that point. Then He praised it–pronounced it good. Should Scripture not have said “the Soul” of God hovered over the waters then? Indeed, God is never said to have a soul. He is Spirit. And yet He certainly has a mind (not a brain, but mindful faculties). And emotions, and judgment. His Spirit encompasses all the rational, emotional, and volitional capacities we normally ascribe to the soul.

Other biblical evidence includes consistent physical-nonphysical dichotomies: creation of man’s body by mud, creation of his Spirit by God’s breath; death of his eternal spirit (damnation to hell), death of his body (hundreds of years later); natural birth by body, spiritual birth of our Spirit; resurrection of Jesus’ spirit, resurrection of His body; redemption of our spirits at accepting Christ, redemption of our bodies on the Last Day; baptism of our body by water, baptism of our spirit by prayer; prayer our the mind of man understands, prayer the mind of God understands; an earthly habitat here made by man’s labor, a spiritual Zion in heaven made by God’s will; a temple made for God out of tents and stones, a spiritual church not by human hands; ceremonial law for a geographical people, heart commandments for a geography-less people. The patterns goes on and on. While trichotomists are quick to point out the significance of the number three in Scripture (and they are right), the number three does not apply to ontological matters of existence except by allegorical appeal. Nor should it apply to hermeneutics as the allegorists say (a carnal or fleshly interpretation, a soulful one, and a spiritual one). When Scripture actually speaks to what ontologically exists through God’s creation, it is always in the pattern of two, not three.

In short, the soul is a convenient faculty we have created to talk about man’s rational, emotional, and volitional capacities. It is helpful to have this term distinct from the body and spirit because we know the will of man is different from the will of God, and we need some way to express that. But it is not helpful because it confuses the ontological premise of the physical and non-physical which the Bible teaches. And it makes bodies evil and spirits pure. If we are talking about soul meaning instead “mind”–the crossroads of where the cues from the physical world (including, but not limited to, the individual body) meet the cues from the supernatural realm (including the voice of the Holy Spirit)–then such talk is practical. But we ought to just say “mind” then (or “self” or “heart”) and change the discussion from Body-Soul-or-Spirit to Me-or-God. Because that is the real dichotomy in the Bible.