Recently, in a survey by pollster George Burma, I read that 72% of Americans claim to have made a personal commitment to Jesus Christ. Using Biblical language, we would call these people disciples, followers of Jesus.
But what is our understanding of a life of discipleship? How would we describe the life of a typical disciple? What is expected? Having pastored in both Canada and the United States, and measuring by people’s behaviors and habits, I would say that the typical Christian would describe the requirements of discipleship in this way:
“You ought to go to church on a regular basis. Generally speaking, more often is better. You ought also to give money to your church, some amount that shows you appreciate being a member of that local body and the services it provides. And it would be good if you could find time in your busy schedule to do some volunteering in that local faith community too.“
“Outside of the church, a disciple should read the Bible and pray; again, more often is better. Christians ought also be nice to others, well behaved in public, a good citizen, and they ought to generally try live a life of kindness.“
And these observations are supported, again, by Barna’s research. Approximately half of American Christians attend church in a typical weekend. 63% give to a local church, though, admittedly, only about 5% give a tithe, or one tenth, as described in the Bible. 58% of evangelical Christians volunteer in their local church.
But is this really all that Jesus asks of us, when he calls us to follow him? Are these behaviors all that is needed to mark a person as one dedicated to God?
I believe many of us today have an incomplete understanding of what it means to be a disciple. I believe we have lowered the standards, watered down the requirements, eliminated the challenges. George Barna agrees; here is how he states it:
“Americans are willing to expend some energy in religious activities such as attending church and reading the Bible, and they are willing to throw some money in the offering basket. Because of such activities, they convince themselves that they are people of genuine faith. But when it comes time to truly establishing their priorities and making a tangible commitment to knowing and loving God, and to allowing Him to change their character and lifestyle, most people stop short. We want to be ‘spiritual’ and we want to have God’s favor, but we’re not sure we want Him taking control of our lives and messing with the image and outcomes we’ve worked so hard to produce.“
In short, we say we want to follow Christ, but we do so half—heartedly and at some distance lagging behind him. Is this the kind of following Jesus called for? How does our discipleship practice compare to the discipleship call of Jesus in the Bible? Listen to these words:
Jesus once said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—— yes, even his own life—— he cannot be my disciple.“
The apostle Paul wrote, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.“
Peter and other writers of the New Testament stated that if anyone should suffer rejection and persecution for being a Christian, they ought to consider themselves blessed. But if a disciple is all about being nice or living a life of kindness, why would we face persecution?
In order to learn what it means to be a disciple, let’s take a close look at what it meant to be a disciple in Galilee, back when Jesus called Peter and others to come, and follow him. For much of this information, I’m indebted to the work of Bible teacher and scholar, Ray VanderLaan.
It started with the way a typical rabbi, or master teacher gathered students, or disciples. Children started out in Beth Sepher, what we would call an elementary school, connected with the local synagogue. There they would be taught to read and write. They would study the Torah, the first 5 books of the Old Testament, the Jewish Scriptures. The best of the best students would memorize these books from start to finish. At the end of their time in Beth Sepher, most students would go home and train for a trade — they’d learn the skills necessary to be a potter, a shepherd, a fisherman or a carpenter. But those who had excelled, those who showed an unusually keen aptitude for learning, would receive an invitation to continue their schooling; they’d be invited to study at the next level, called Beth Midrash. They’d study the rest of the Old Testament. Again, these students would commit the Scriptures to memory. As part of their training, they would also enter into debate about the interpretation of all the decrees, songs, and stories they’d been entrusted with. And at the conclusion of these studies, most would, again, seek out a trade, probably joining the family business. A very few would seek to become what is known in Hebrew as a talmudim: in English, we’d say ‘disciples.’ These especially keen scholars would seek out a rabbi, one of the respected teachers of the Scriptures of Israel. There would be an interview, with the rabbi seeking the best of the best of the best. The interview would go something like this: finding a rabbi, a potential disciple would say, “Rabbi, may I follow you?“ There would typically follow two to three days of spending time together, walking and talking together. At the end of that trial period, again, for most students, the answer would be no. “No, you don’t have what it takes. You’d best go home to your father’s house. Why don’t you go learn his trade?“ But some, a very few, would be accepted; to them, the rabbi would say ‘Come, follow me.’ And that person would become one of the rabbi’s talmudim: a disciple. And that’s when the real work would begin.
You see, in the first century, discipleship was not about learning so much as becoming. It was like an apprenticeship in a trade. An apprentice watched closely, learned from and imitated the master craftsman, until he could make a pot or a plow or a bench with the same precision and excellence as the master. The same was true for disciples; it was about much more than learning the right information. Followers of rabbis, rabbinic disciples, would observe, imitate and study all the rabbi’s teaching and ways of being, so that they too could become masters of the Word of God and trustworthy replicas of their rabbi. To become a disciple was to attach yourself to the rabbi. That was the only way to do it. A rabbi’s disciples would represent the rabbi in interpreting the law, and vice versa. We see this in the bible, when questions were asked of Jesus and the twelve. For example, the Pharisees asked the disciples, “Why does your master eat with sinners?“ The disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus why his disciples do not fast. Each was assumed to be fully in touch with what the other does and why. Rabbi and disciples were assumed to be of one mind. But this discipleship went far beyond merely learning the religious teaching of the rabbi; being a disciple really came down to being the rabbi when the rabbi wasn’t available. It was not so much about education as imitation. The disciples would replicate the rabbi’s practice. No wonder the disciples of Jesus were surprised and somewhat dismayed when they saw Jesus talking in public with the Samaritan woman, a woman of poor reputation. “If that’s what Jesus does, that’s what I’ll need to do.“ It also helps us understand Peter’s desire to walk on water. “If that’s what Jesus does, that’s what I’ll need to do.“
That kind of following requires passionate devotion, always carefully observing, always learning. You never let the rabbi out of your sight. To be a disciple was to abandon your family, your community and be joined together into a new relationship, marked by passionate devotion to your rabbi. So in the initial interview, the question on the mind of the rabbi is one of imitation. “Does this person have what it takes to be like me?“ Can they teach as I teach? Can they live as I live? Does this person have what it takes to be my representative, my mouthpiece, my disciple?“ The rabbi is not looking for something new. He’s not looking for someone who’s going to bring the teachings to the next level. As Jesus himself taught, “A student is not above his teacher… It is enough for the student to be like his teacher.“
So, now let us return to our more modern working definition of discipleship, as defined by our behavior: attend church services, give some money, volunteer when you can, pray if you can find the time. When we compare that to what Jesus is calling for, we can see that we fall far short. Jesus is looking for people to be just like him, people who can represent his teaching, his kindness, his love to a broken world. If we are to follow Jesus, to be counted as his disciples, we have to be like him, in every way!
Now perhaps discouragements sets in, because we know how broken we are; we know all too well our faults and our failings. We aren’t able to live up to even our own standards, our ideals about what it means to be a good employee, a good friend or a good parent. Never mind trying to live up to God’s standards! We think to ourselves, “There’s no way I can do it. I can’t be like Jesus!“
I remember some years ago, when I was a boy, growing up on our dairy farm in Ontario, I always was somewhat jealous of my older brother, because he got the privilege of driving the tractor. Driving the tractor was a big responsibility. While I might be going out to get the cows, or pulling weeds in the fields, or cleaning manure out of the barn, my brother was seated on high, at the wheel of the tractor. But when the hot summer day came and Dad told me I would be driving the tractor while we were baling hay, all my aspirations vanished. I got a heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t think I was up to the task. I knew from prior experience I had to almost stand on top of the big clutch pedal to get it down. Suddenly I was filled with doubts, thinking I wasn’t up to the task, and I thought to myself, “I can’t do it. Dad’s got the wrong guy.“ When you think of following Jesus, being his disciple, being like him in every way, is your reaction the same? Do you have those doubts? Well listen closely, and hear the good news. When we look back at the Bible story for today, it’s pretty clear that the way Jesus selected his disciples turned the disciple—gathering and recruiting traditions of the day upside down. Think about it. He left Jerusalem, where he was prior to calling his disciples, and went to Galilee. Galilee was a rural backwater. This isn’t where you find the best of the best! He went to Bethsaida, a small fishing village of perhaps 600 people, maybe 6—8 extended clans. There Jesus met Peter, Andrew, James, John and Philip. Not dressed in clean, colorful gowns. Not clean cut and ruggedly handsome. Imagine instead young men with scars on their hands, dust on their feet and perhaps a few front teeth missing. They were poor. They were fishermen. And we know what that means. It means they were not talmudim.
At some point in their young lives, someone said, “You’re not good enough. Go home kid. This isn’t for you. You haven’t got what it takes.“ We heard Peter speak earlier: when Jesus advised him to go out into the deep waters, Peter said “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything.“ All night long, and nothing. That’s Peter’s summary. He’s an all night long and nothing kind of guy. If a professional disciple recruiter had been consulted, he’d say “Come on, Jesus! This guy’s not disciple material! He’s just a fisherman! And he’s not even all that good at fishing!“ Because, come to think of it, it seems like every time we see Peter fishing, his nets come up empty. Everything about these guys, from their place to their job to their failure says ‘Loser!’ And along comes Jesus. Peter knows well who he is, this impromptu passenger near the shore of the Sea of Galilee. He’s a Rabbi, one with a growing reputation for authoritative teaching, engaging preaching and even miraculous healings. In fact, just prior to the events of this story, Jesus had healed Peter’s own mother—in—law. And there, that day, Jesus demonstrates his great power and divine authority in the miraculous catch of fish. This great Rabbi, this wondrous Jesus, is in Peter’s boat. And he is looking for disciples. Jesus is looking for people to follow, and be like him.
Yes, Peter knows Jesus, but Peter also knows himself. A sinner. A washout. A loser. His response to Jesus is, “Go away from me Lord; I am a sinful man.“ He’s saying, “You don’t want me Lord. I’m not good enough. I can’t do it.“ But it is to Peter and his companions that Jesus says ‘Come!’ Jesus goes with the average joes: not the stars, not the valedictorians, not the elite in the upper—crust of society. Jesus chooses the rejects, the ones no one else wanted.
This is the word of good news to anyone listening who has ever been neglected, anyone who’s ever been left behind, belittled, abused or ostracized. We look at ourselves and shudder. “Oh no Lord, you must have made some mistake. We’re not what you’re looking for. We’ve got nothing to offer: well, just a boat and some nets—we’re not even good with those.“ But God looks us in the eye and smiles. He says, “I know you can do it. You can be like me.“
That summer some 30 years ago when Dad put me on the tractor, he took the time to show me the way. He let me know what gear I needed to be in. He showed me how to read the rpm gauge, telling me how far to push the throttle. He demonstrated how to engage and disengage the power take off, turning the baler on and off. And together, we managed. Oh, I don’t think it was a smooth operation that first day. I remember popping the clutch when my feet came off, and seeing my Dad stagger backwards on the wagon as we lurched violently forward. But I did it. I drove the tractor, working in the fields. I did it because my Dad showed me the way——believing I could do it—even when I didn’t. Dad believed that I could be like him. You probably have a similar story, a time in your life when someone showed confidence in you, a confidence you didn’t feel yourself. And it made all the difference. That’s what it’s like with God. He sees beyond what we are to what we can be, seeing and believing that we can be like Jesus.
My friends, Christianity is what we call an incarnational faith. That means God puts on flesh. He did so at the manger in Bethlehem, when the second person of the Trinity was born as Jesus, the Christ. But there is also a way in which God puts on flesh in your city, town or village. If you follow him, he puts on your flesh. You are his disciple, you speak for him, right where you are. Each of us is his prophet, his mouthpiece, his very presence, especially to those who have not met Jesus yet. You see, in addition to being like Jesus in your world, we are called to point others to our Lord. That too is what it means to be a disciple. It’s what Jesus told Peter. “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch people.“ Jesus was a gatherer, and so it comes as no surprise that his disciples are to be ‘fishers of people.’ Part of being a disciple is to gather others, to make disciples. You may recall that at the end of his earthly ministry, Jesus said to his followers, “Go and make disciples of all nations.“ This the last stage of discipleship for any who followed a rabbi. After a few years of closely following the rabbi, the students, the talmudim, would then go off on their own, and gather their own disciples, for them to learn to be just like them. So the teaching (in all it’s depth) would be passed on to succeeding generations.
Go and make disciples. It is what Peter must do. He has been called to be a talmudim! There is a rabbi who thinks he can do it! He has been called to go to deeper waters, into a deeper relationship with God himself. So was Peter called to go and replicate for others his own experience. Those of us who follow Jesus are called to the very same. We have encountered God—when he came to us. When we are honest with ourselves, we acknowledge we tend to lean away from his overwhelming presence, because we know that we are sinners. And yet Jesus, who sees us, who knows us right to our core, looks at us in love; he is not disappointed—he says “Come. Follow me.“
As you listen today, I want to ask you, have you heard his call and accepted his grace? If you feel God working in your heart, if you are hearing his whisper, or perhaps his shout! It is the Spirit of Jesus Christ saying, “Come, follow me. I have chosen you as my disciple. I think you can be like me.“
Everett Vander Horst
Everett Vander Horst is the senior pastor at Shawnee Park Christian Reformed Church, in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He and his wife Christa have been married for 14 years, and have 3 children: Laura (10), Eric (7) and Jason (5). A Canadian, Everett grew up on a dairy farm in southwestern Ontario. After graduating from Calvin Theological Seminary in 1996, he and Christa moved to British Columbia where Everett was ordained as pastor in the Telkwa Christian Reformed Church. They took the call to Shawnee Park CRC in 2001. When he is not pastoring, Everett enjoys digital photography, fishing as well as building toys and furniture in his basement woodshop.
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