Becoming a Parent & Discipling Children - Part Two
This is part 2 of the 3-part series, “Becoming a Parent & Discipling Children” by Jonathan Dodson You Don’t Have What It Takes John Eldredge, best-selling author of Wild at Heart and You Have What It Takes: What Every Father Needs to Hear, would have us believe that, for fathers, the most important question we can ask and answer for ourselves and our sons is “Do I have what it takes?”[3] He argues that most of us don’t realize that we are built for fatherhood and that we need to know, as our sons need to know, that we have what it takes. Although Eldredge is right in pointing out that mothers and fathers have been given the natural equipment to parent, he underestimates the bent motivations we have in parenting. To be sure, Eldredge directs the wounded parent to the healing Christ, but only as a way of getting us back on track in the task of child affirmation, of telling our sons: “You have what it takes,” and our daughters “You are lovely.” As a result, his model of parenting can boil down to a task-based, self-esteem building enterprise that dangerously neglects the sinful issues of the parental heart.
The reality is that we really don’t have what it takes to parent for the glory of God and the good of our children. Our natural equipment for instruction, discipline, care, and love is in disrepair; we can’t consistently and accurately instruct, discipline, care and love our children, even if we have received the love of God in Christ. Time and again, our children push us to the limits of our love, and we cross the line of selfish anger or embittered depression. We will spank or yell out of spite, not mercy and love. In dark and honest moments, we will daydream of life before children. We do not have what it takes to parent our children.
The godly response to our paralyzing fear is not to pat ourselves on our backs and assume that we have what it takes, nor is it to counter our parental limitations with earnest preparation. Instead, we need to redemptively confront our fears. If we respond to fear-motivated preparation and personal paralysis with a you-have-what-it-takes attitude, we bypass the heart, where our fears fester.
Although diligent preparation and careful concern can be a godly response to the task of parenting, it is the heart that determines the righteousness of our actions.
Related to this fact, is the reality that our children see our hearts as well as our actions and act out of their own impure motives. More than success is at stake, our hearts, parent and child’s, are on the table in the privilege of parenting.[4] If we are to parent well, then we will need more than task-based survival tips and emotional pats on the back. We will need the gospel to redemptively engage our fears…and our frustrations.
Frustration and Parenting Fear isn’t the only obstacle encountered in parenting. Frustration over failure and freedoms lost often haunt us. Of course, we don’t always understand this dynamic when we snap at our children. I have particularly faced frustration with the birth of our daughter, Ellie. Unlike our son, a sleep-through-the-night poster child, Ellie took a cry-through-the-night approach. For a while, this was both her day job and her night job. She was what you might ambiguously refer to as colicky. Needless to say, I don’t like colic. More than once I have lost my patience with Ellie’s unpleasant, incessant crying.
Consider the following snapshot. It is evening, after a long day at work. Owen is in bed but Ellie is hungry, so I feed her, wrap her, and put her in the swing in hopes of some silent time to myself. Five minutes later, her blood-curdling cry severs the silence. I swiftly return to her with sucker in hand to plug up the noise. (Oh the sucker, a tease for both parent and child, which provides teasing and temporary relief.) Another five minutes go by and out comes the sucker along with the screams, only this time they are louder and shriller. This cycle repeats about twenty times, and I lose it. I huffily run in to the room, swiftly pick up Ellie, and with a couple shakes I angrily reason with her: “Ellie why won’t you go to sleep? You have already eaten!” Minutes, if not seconds later, I am beside myself. How could I lose my temper with my six week old baby daughter?
In the same scenario my wife responds differently. Instead of getting angry, she patiently returns again and again, speaking sweet words into our daughter’s ear. How does she do it? Sometimes in loving motherly despair. One day she called me at work in total despondency. She desperately shared that she just can’t do “it” anymore, that she had to get out of the house. She went on to describe how she couldn’t escape and informed me that she was getting a job. She wondered who she had become and thought to herself, “I am a terrible mother.”
Responses of Husbands and Wives As our children grow, parenting scenarios change but the challenges remain somewhat the same. What are we to do with the challenge of our frustrations? Talking them through with my wife has been enlightening and helpful. She has suggested that, perhaps part of the reason I can get so upset with our helpless six week old, is that I can not fix her crying. All my earnest preparation, my swaddling techniques, and carefully situated suckers fail in soothing my daughter’s cry. My response to the frustration is to fix things. As a man I am a fixer. If I can’t fix the problem, then my manhood is being challenged. If my manhood is challenged, I have every right to get angry. So goes, not the counsel of my wife, but the logic of this line of reasoning. Am I to conclude that the problem is really that I can not fix my daughter’s colic, that my manhood is being challenged?
I believe the problem runs much deeper than mister fix-it masculinity. The reality is that when I am confronted with the fact that I am powerless to fix my problems, I am forced to recognize that I do not have what it takes. Accepting that I do not have what it takes, which is what all my earnest preparation sought to secure, requires humility, which is part of true manhood. Furthermore, the inability to control my daughter’s crying has a direct affect on my schedule. It results in less free time, time to do what I want to do. In these moments, my inability to fix the problem and my frustration from lost freedom combine to produce a powder keg of anger. This anger stems from the fact that, in those moments, I am the center of my family. Instead of taking the path of servant leader, I choose the path of commando leader. I deserve my freedom!
What about a mother’s frustrated response to lost freedoms? Perhaps despair and self-deprecating thoughts are the appropriate response to a mother’s failure to fully empathize with all her children’s needs, to wholly love the chaos of being a stay-at-home mom. While mothers are generally better equipped to empathize with their children than fathers, should we then conclude that the very thing that makes them mothers—femininity—is the same thing that leads them to despair? When faced with the demands and frustrations of parenting, does the feminine capacity for empathy necessarily lead to motherly despondency?
I believe that the problem goes deeper than the limitations of feminine empathy. It has to do with resistance to God’s plan for children to raise their mothers. It has to do with our idolatrous association of freedom with identity. For instance, whenever my wife encounters the frustrations of parenting, it easy for her to mistakenly equate lost freedom with loss of identity. Though she is certainly not able to carry on all her hobbies and friendships with pre-parenthood potency, she has not lost her identity. It is being transformed. However, the reality is that my wife’s loss of freedom sometimes makes her feel trapped. In turn, the trapped feelings associated with motherhood lead to guilt over passionless parenting.
Other times, screaming kids and a messy house drive mothers to the bottom of their desire to parent. In those incredibly stressful moments, mothers don’t want to mother; they want out. Understandably, moms need breaks from the demands of their children. However, focusing on a way out will not change the frustrated heart. Instead, redemptive parenting begins with confessing to God that we don’t have what it takes to be a good and godly parent. When confronted with either a limited capacity for empathy and love or an extinguished desire to mother, focusing on lost freedoms or parental inability is not the pathway to godly parenting. Fixing things doesn’t work either. The pathway is paved with repentance, faith and grace. How do we graciously respond in these moments for the good of our children and the glory of our God? What role does faith have in parenting?
[3] John Eldredge, You Have What It Takes: What Every Father Needs to Hear (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2004).
[4] For a book that addresses parenting a child’s heart see, Paul Tripp, Shepherding a Child’s Heart (Wapwallopen, PA: Shepherd Press, 1995).
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Jonathan Dodson (M.Div, Th.M) is happy husband to Robie, and proud father to Owen, Ellie & Rosamund. He is also the lead pastor of Austin City Life church and a leader in The GCM Collective, PlantR and Gospel Centered Discipleship.com. Jonathan is also the author of forthcoming Gospel-Centered Discipleship and writes regularly for The Resurgence, Boundless, and The High Calling. He blogs at jonathandodson.org, enjoys listening to M. Ward, watching sci-fi, and following Jesus.
Becoming a Parent & Discipling Children - Part One
As a single and as a young husband, I stood in awe of parents. They seemed so grown-up, so mature, so together. I recall the passing comment of a mentor and father of five who shared the news of his wife’s recent pregnancy as “bringing an eternal soul into the world.” The spiritual sobriety of his perspective made me marvel at parenthood even more. I wondered if I would ever become that mature. From a distance, parenthood can appear to be the next step in human maturity—adolescent, college student, young adult, married person, parent. (For some reason, popular perception of empty-nesters doesn’t translate to the final step in maturity.) Those without children, tend to view those with children as wiser, more responsible human beings. After all, recent studies have shown that only the well-educated and affluent are the married-with-kids type.[1] Are we then to conclude that true maturity begins with parenthood? Hardly. Most of us can tell adolescent stories of the parents who let their children get away with anything, parents who seemed more immature than their kids. Maturity isn’t always present in parents. As a parent who is two kids into fatherhood, I can vouch that there is nothing magically maturing about having kids. So how does one become mature enough to parent?
Certainly, close-up encounters with parents reveal that maturity doesn’t go hand in hand with motherhood or fatherhood, whether the parent is single or married. Yet, if we are to parent well, some level of maturity is necessary. Perhaps even more important is the willingness for a parent to mature as a person with their kids, a challenge well captured by Dan Allender in his book How Children Raise Parents.[2]
Indeed, if we are willing to learn along with our children, parenthood may prove to be a maturing, even transforming experience. On the other hand, disengaged or duty-driven parenting can easily prove to be a paralyzing and heart hardening experience. Regardless of how you parent, one thing is certain; raising children will bring its fair share of fear and frustration, for both mothers and fathers.
The challenges of parenthood begin before the baby is born. The nine months before birth are a microcosm of the liberties and limitations of parenthood. Sonograms, name selection, baby room shopping, loss of time, money, and sleep all transpire in those few months, the beginnings of the diverse joys and pains of parenting. Fear sets in early on. Will the baby be born healthy or at all? How will we financially support another person? What about breast-feeding and diaper-changing? How will my spouse change? What if I screw up my kid? Can I do this? Depending on how we respond to these questions, fear of failure can result in earnest preparation or personal paralysis.
After the baby is born and the novelty wears off, our fears can quickly turn into frustrations. While I trembled at the thought of guiding and providing for our second child before she was born, afterwards I found myself incredibly annoyed and frustrated with Ellie’s incessant crying. Pre-birth fear is easily turned into post-partum frustration. As a result, questions begin to cascade. Why won’t that baby just shut up? How am I supposed to work on three hours of sleep? Why won’t my child just obey me the first time? What happened to my wife/husband? Where did all my free time go? Who am I? How do I respond to that!
The various frustrations encountered in parenting can quickly turn into anger or despair in lament over the loss of past freedoms. We discover just how much pre-parenthood personal freedom we had when we lose sleep, time with our spouses, time to see movies, to have dinner out, to enjoy quiet coffee shop reading and reflection, and time with friends.
Depending on how we respond, frustration over freedoms lost can lead to personal reformation or deep-seated resentment.
How are we to redemptively engage our parental fears and frustrations? How much of our fear and frustration is valid? How can frustration lead to redemption instead of resentment? In the space that remains, we will explore some of these gut-level questions with the aim of shedding light on what it looks like to parent by faith in the midst of fear and frustration.
Fear of Failure Parenting In the months leading up Owen’s birth, our first child, something radical happened. All of a sudden, my strolls through bookshops led me, not down the usual Religion, Literature and Sociology aisles, but quickly into the Family and Parenting sections. Fearful of parental failure, I was willing to learn from anyone. My reading was not limited to the subjects of children and fathers, but even extended to literature on motherhood. I can remember an afternoon spent at Barnes & Noble, where I scoured the racks for wisdom. Consumed by the fear of failing as a father, I desperately picked up the camo-colored New Dad's Survival Guide: Man-to-Man Advice for First-Time Fathers, by Scott Mactavish. I didn’t have a clue who Scott was, but I knew I was both a first-timer and in need of survival tips.
Fear jump-started my parental preparation. I began to line my utility belt with as many survival tips as possible. I soon called a weekly meeting for expecting fathers to plow through the emotional, spiritual, and practical issues of fatherhood. I frantically looked for post-graduate job placement and began to budget with a passion. In earnest preparation I sought to stamp out my parental fear.
This is not every parent’s response. Other soon-to-be parents encounter personal paralysis when considering the thought of becoming a parent. Feelings of inadequacy and thoughts of failure to meet our children’s emotional, social and physical needs converge, sending a paralyzing arrow of insufficiency straight to the heart. Add to that the tremor of being spiritually responsible for an eternal soul and the wincing pain of the financial demands in caring for another family member.
The fear that motivated my preparation was not constant; it also gave way to personal paralysis. We were expecting Owen. I was in graduate school and graduation was imminent. My wife was in her last month of pregnancy and had taken leave from work. I had been interviewing for months, working my way around the country and down the list of potential employers. We had no savings. I worked as an evening security guard at a prominent advertising firm for ten bucks an hour. We were on state health care and our expenses were about to skyrocket. No job, no money, no prospects, no hope. I experienced a deep, troubling, soul-wrenching despair. In the face of my apparent incompetence, my despair led to debilitating fear. I couldn’t study, make enough money for my family, or look people in the eye. Fortunately, it only lasted a day. Nevertheless, paralyzing fear laid its hands on my heart and, in an instant, my spirit of self-reliant preparation crumbled under the weight of worry.
Some of us respond to our parental fears by spending untold hours worrying instead of sleeping, hardening instead of embracing the in-breaking reality of parenthood. We fear that we will repeat our parents’ failures, and conclude that somehow we are hard-wired for second-rate parenting. Others of us respond by extreme preparation, thinking that if we read and prepare enough we will succeed. What are we to do with these responses? Is preparation the strong, godly response and paralysis the weak, ungodly response? How should we engage these fears?
[1] Married couples with children now account for less than a quarter of the U.S.population. Sociologists point out that this marriage gap is largely class-based. Blaine Harden, “Numbers Drop for the Married with Children,” Washington Post Mar 4, 2007:http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/03/03/AR2007030300841_pf.html
[2] Dan Allender, How Children Raise Parents: The Art of Listening to Your Family(Colorado Springs: WaterBrook Press, 2003).
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Jonathan Dodson (M.Div, Th.M) is happy husband to Robie, and proud father to Owen, Ellie & Rosamund. He is also the lead pastor of Austin City Life church and a leader in The GCM Collective, PlantR and Gospel Centered Discipleship.com. Jonathan is also the author of forthcoming Gospel-Centered Discipleship and writes regularly for The Resurgence, Boundless, and The High Calling. He blogs at jonathandodson.org, enjoys listening to M. Ward, watching sci-fi, and following Jesus.
What I Learned from Being Discipled
About a year ago, I met Jeremy. He is now as close as a brother—a brother who has refined, challenged, and equipped me in areas that would have otherwise gone untouched. My relationship with Jeremy has not only been a major personal blessing, but has also broadened my perspective of the value of intentional, discipleship-driven relationships. Jeremy is about 30 years old, married, and has two young kids. In between various odd-jobs, he invests in many men at Moody Theological Seminary. He intentionally pursues, meets and prays with those who still don’t know what they want to be when they grow up.
Our initial talks primarily consisted of exchanging one another's background information, as he also began to probe my framework for ministry, marriage, and life in general. Over time, I began unpacking more and more to him. Through it all, he has listened patiently to my various struggles, fears, and questions. Sometimes, he just listens. Other times, he listens and then provides counsel. But he’s always there, deeply investing in me. I often wonder why. Typically, I leave feeling undeserving to have an older, wiser man so intentionally pouring his life and the gospel into me.
At this point in our relationship, I comfortably express anything to him. Sometimes I find myself digging up a fear, doubt, or concern deeply embedded in my heart—something I thought I'd never talk about. These conversations can be hard in ways; but overall, they are deeply freeing and ultimately, life-giving. Moreover, Jeremy always extends opportunities of spending time with him, besides one-on-one conversations. He’s intentional and provides deep counsel while also being fun and spontaneous.
Making Disciples Who Make Disciples Because of the blessing of this relationship, I’ve often wondered about the impact this type of relational dynamic could have on 21st century Christianity. Unfortunately, we are typically too busy for such a relationship to develop, or we question whether there is much value in it for. For most of us, we stiff-arm this kind of friendship because the thought of being weak, confessing our struggles, asking for counsel, and growing in prayer are things that do not come naturally. We would rather just talk football, play with power tools, and eat red meat.
Many of our church programs and tactics enable us to hear the Word of God; but over time, our forms of ministry tend to lack the initiative to enhance one’s growth over the long haul. The gospel calls us to a pilgrimage and persevering discipleship in Christ. Gospel-centered, intentional relationships can and should be foundational in this. I'm deeply grateful for people like Jeremy who purposely seek to make disciples of Jesus, and encourage others to desire discipleship for themselves and others. This diffuses the powerful relational dynamic of 'making disciples who make disciples'—something we most likely agree with but are somewhat perplexed as to how it should be implemented.
How to Pursue a Discipleship-Driven Relationship Most of us agree that a discipleship-driven relationship is a healthy thing. The trouble is we vaguely know how to pursue such a relationship. What if I don’t know anyone who is willing to disciple me? What if people at my church aren’t really into this idea of discipleship? What do these types of relationships look like? I’m fine with being mentored by somebody, but I don’t feel equipped to mentor/disciple someone myself. This all sounds more awkward than I am comfortable with exploring right now. These are all normal concerns.
I'd like to share some things I have learned from being discipled. My hope is that they will address and clear away some of these concerns. Though not exhaustive, hopefully they will provide clarity on how discipleship relationships can develop.
1. Pray for a refining, gospel-centered, discipleship-driven relationship. Do not overlook the value of prayer. God is surely in favor of an iron-sharpening-iron relationship. Praying for this does not mean God will suddenly drop this person into your life (although he could), but it will definitely be something that he answers in his time and in his way.
2. Ask someone to mentor/disciple you. Unless you are a part of a small church, the lead pastor is not the best person to ask. Otherwise, he may already have too much on his plate. If this is the case, search for someone in your church who would not only be willing to disciple you, but would feel blessed by it. This is a great indicator that such a relationship will be truly refining. On the other hand, if this is something they agree to, but are going to have to squeeze it into their already tight schedule, I recommend searching elsewhere. It will be the greatest blessing for both individuals if each is fully on board and can consistently hang out and build depth. Also, don’t get offended if somebody denies your request or isn’t fully on board. People are busy, many have numerous kids. And while excuses can sometimes be frustrating, they are often perfectly valid.
3. Search for someone who is older and wiser, yet still close to your stage of life. If possible, the person should be at least a few years older, although there can certainly be exceptions. In some cases, a new believer may be conveniently mentored by someone who is his exact age and who has been a believer for a while. In other cases, a believer may be mentored by someone 40 years older. That’s certainly OK! But the blessing of someone who is older and wiser yet still close to your stage in life is that they can more naturally relate to you. They’ve walked where you’ve recently walked and also have the wisdom and experience on how to handle various facets of life. Also (and perhaps this doesn’t need to be said), only seek such a relationship from someone of the same gender.
4. Joining a small group is not the same as being in a discipleship-driven relationship. Small groups are important, but often the same degree of gospel depth cannot be reached in this setting as it can in a mentoring relationship. There are certain things you would never talk about in a small group setting. This is because people whom you barely know are in the room, like the young mom with the baby who you’ve seen once in the church lobby. Small groups could actually be a great place to meet someone who could provide discipleship, but they will most often not fulfill one's need of gospel cultivation that digs more deeply and personally into one’s heart.
5. It shouldn’t be super serious all the time. A buzz phrase in Christian culture is life-on-life discipleship and there is major value in this. A discipleship-driven relationship shouldn’t solely consist of deep, spiritual conversations or lengthy Bible studies. Such relationships should be much broader. Life should be enjoyed together. Christians need to have more fun. Go out to eat. Play basketball. Go to a baseball game. Play video games. Start your own rap group. Build an all-around relationship. Then also meet to talk about Scripture and plant it into each other’s heart and life; but make the relationship broader than merely that. Truthfully, when the relationship is broader, then the depth of the spiritual matters will more naturally open up even more. A deeper gospel friendship will grow, while vulnerability and weakness will follow.
Discipleship-driven relationships effectively diffuse the idea of 'making disciples who make disciples', because true, gospel-centered discipleship should lead to such a ripple effect—where communities of believers make disciples who will in turn make more disciples of Jesus. This will happen through a generation who grasps the value of discipleship relationships and in turn learns how to implement them in their everyday life.
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Haddon is a graduate student at Moody Theological Seminary. In 2010, he graduated from Cedarville University, where he met his wife, Julie. They are currently residents of northwest Indiana, and plan to move to Haddon's hometown of Rockford, IL, where they will invest in urban and youth ministry. You can find him blogging at HaddonAnderson.com.
Reinterpreting the Great Commission -- Part Two
This is part 2 of the 2-part series, “Reinterpreting the Great Commission” by Jonathan Dodson Gospel of Luke: Resurrection Stories Luke's commission also emphasizes preaching the gospel: "repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things" (Luke 24:47-48). In particular, we are called to preach "repentance and forgiveness of sins." A social gospel will not suffice. Christ calls us to repent — to turn our heart allegiances away from all things other, and to receive forgiveness for betraying our Creator. But a forgiven and repentant person is not idle; they are compelled to witness — to tell the story of their transformation.
Where Matthew and Mark respectively emphasize distinctive discipleship and preaching a worldly gospel, Luke calls us to witness — to tell our distinct gospel stories. No two stories are alike, but all share the same Savior. What does it mean to be "witnesses of all these things"? Well, at the very least it means sharing Jesus' self-sacrificing offer of forgiveness, but that is just one thing. What of the other things?
We are to tell of Jesus' death, but we are also to tell of his resurrection. Consider the context of Luke's commission. The eleven disciples were discussing the reliability of Jesus sightings, when suddenly Christ appeared in the room. Thinking he was a ghost, they were filled with fright. Jesus responded: "See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have" (24:39). To make his point, Jesus proved he had a body by eating some fish and chips. In flesh and bone, Jesus charges his follower to be witnesses of his resurrection.
The problem with many of our stories is that they contain all spirit and very little flesh. We communicate our mystical encounters with God, our mountain top experiences with Jesus, and our superhuman victories over sin. Many people see right through our spiritual stories, precisely because our witness is too good to be true. We fail to mention our bad, unless it is in the past, failing further to witness of resurrection, in the present. People want to touch redemption, which means they need to see resurrection power in our personal struggles.
Jesus' body was resurrected as an expression of God's commitment to creation (1 Cor. 15). God does not jettison the body for the soul. His gospel of redemption is for the whole world, beginning with enfleshed people. His resurrection is a bright reminder of new creation in the midst of bleak darkness, of tangible transformation in gross dilapidation. The stories we tell should boast of Jesus' death and resurrection, of his forgiveness of sin and of his restoration of sinners — reconciled families and marriages, restored and housed homeless, renewed life among AIDS orphans, and so on.
According to the Gospel of Luke, we are to be witnesses of death and resurrection, to live and recount the stories of a resurrected, fleshly Jesus who lives in the midst of broken humanity offering healing and hope.
Gospel of John: Humble and Cultural Accommodation John's commission is short and sweet: "As the Father sent me, I am also sending you" (John 20:21). Whereas the previous gospel writers emphasized Jesus' command to make distinctive disciples, preach a worldly gospel, and witness a fleshly Jesus, John stresses Jesus sending his disciples. As the text continues, Jesus makes plain that the disciples are sent as a forgiving community, offering the grace they have received from him to others.
According to John Piper, we are either goers, senders, or disobedient, but according to Jesus we are all the sent. Missionary activity is not the exclusive task of people who sell all their possessions and move overseas. All followers of Jesus are called to live as missionaries in their culture. If we are all sent into our cultures as distinctive disciples to share a worldly gospel about a fleshly Christ, how then are we to live as the sent? Jesus said, "As the Father sent me, I am also sending you." Our paradigm for living a sent life, a missionary life, is the sending of the Son by the Father.
When the Father sent the Son, Jesus left the glory of his trinitarian abode and became a helpless infant in the care of humans he created. This required an accommodating humility. Jesus grew up and became a first century, toga-wearing, sandal-sporting, temple-frequenting Jew. He accommodated first century Jewish culture (also known as contextualization). So, within reason we should take on the trappings of our culture in order to contextually relate the gospel. This can entail wearing broken-in jeans, togas, hand-made sandals or a suit and tie.
However, our accommodation is not purely cultural; it is missional. It leads us to immerse ourselves into the humanity of our neighborhoods and cities in order relate the gospel to people and their needs. Being a local missionary requires more than relevant attire; it demands humility of heart to listen to the stories of others, to empathize with their frustration, suffering, and brokenness and to redemptively retell their stories through the gospel. To be sent by God is to follow the example of the incarnation, to redemptively engage others with a humble heart and cultural accommodation.
In John's commission, the paradigm of accommodating humility is accompanied by the power of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit is not too holy for distinctive discipleship. After sending his disciples, Jesus breathed on them and they received the Holy Spirit (John 20:22). The power of missional living does not spring from cultural savvy or social sensitivity; it requires the otherworldly, utterly personal power of the Holy Spirit. Only the Spirit of God can make men new.
According to the Gospel of John, we have been sent as missionaries to humbly demonstrate and culturally accommodate the gospel of Christ through the power of the Spirit. In being sent, we do not abandon the cultural commission, but instead, unite it with our redemptive mission.
The Gospel of Genesis: Creation Mandate The "good news" of Genesis 1-2 is that God created all things to be enjoyed, managed, cultivated, and recreated by humanity. The gospel of Genesis 3 is that, though Adam rejected God, God did not reject Adam. Still possessing the creation mandate, Adam was expelled from Eden, but clothed with the hope of a new creation (Gen 3:15, 21).
The creation mandate charges us to be fruitful and multiply, to rule and subdue the earth. This fruitful multiplication continues both physically and spiritually through the reproducing ministry of missional disciples, who increase in number and good works (Acts 6:7; Col. 1:6, 10). These good works include ruling and subduing creation through the careful, creative arrangement of the elements of the earth into art, technology, infrastructure etc. for the flourishing of humanity. The basis for our cultural activity is found in Genesis.
Retaining the cultural impulse of Genesis, the Gospels call us to a missional discipleship that entails creation care, cultural engagement, social action, and gospel proclamation. Missional disciples will not content themselves by preaching a culturally irrelevant, creation indifferent, resurrection neglecting message. Instead, they redemptively engage peoples and cultures through Christ for the renewal of his creation.
By digging deeper into the great commissions, we have unearthed a wealth of cultural and theological insight. This rereading of familiar evangelistic texts has demonstrated that God in Christ has called us not to mere soul-winning, but to distinctive discipleship, to heralding a worldly gospel of a fleshly Christ who humbly accommodates human culture and understands the human condition. These commissions call us to missional discipleship — to redemptive engagement with all peoples and cultures.
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NOTES
- It is certainly possible that there are more commissions. In fact, the Abrahamic covenant in Gen 12:1-3 contains a programmatic mandate for all of Scripture: Go and God will make you a blessing to the nations, which is progressively manifested in making a new people of God, comprised of Jews and Gentiles.
- It too is variously repeated in the Old Testament, upwards of 20 times, e.g. Gen. 9:1,7; 17:2-6; 26:3; 28:3; Ex. 1:7; Ezek. 36:11; Jer. 23:3.
- Andrew Walls, The Missionary Movement in Christian History (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1996), 51. The original Greek reading of Matt. 28:18 is literally "disciple all ethne" or "make disciples all nations" and does not contain a preposition. However, the grammatical construction of the phrase leads to an "of" reading, not a "from" or "in" reading.
- It is widely recognized that this verse and the latter portion of Mark's gospel (16:9-20) is absent from many Marcan manuscripts. However, we can not be certain that the ending is missing from the original text. If it was absent, our point concerning the "worldly gospel" of Mark still stands in that Mark repeatedly depicts Jesus as the Restorer of creation: driving out demons, healing the sick, resurrecting the dead, calming the sea.
The Gospel According to Jonah
The Omnivore & the GospelA number of years ago, Michael Pollan, the best-selling author of some excellent books on food, hunted and killed a wild California pig as part of his effort to prepare a meal hunted and foraged in the wild. After shooting the pig, he walked to it, knelt and touched it, saw its blood flowing onto the ground, and experienced a surge of emotions, including pride, relief, and happiness.
The other emotion he felt (but hadn’t expected) was gratitude. But, in Pollan’s words, gratitude ‘for what exactly, or to whom? For my good fortune, I guess…but also to this animal, for stepping unbidden over the crest of that hill, out of the wild and into my sight…More than the product of any labor of mine (save receptiveness) the animal was a gift – from whom or what I couldn’t say – but gratitude seemed in order, and gratitude is what I felt’ (The Omnivore’s Dilemma).
It’s a sacred moment for Pollan, though he seems unable to connect the dots to God. He feels grateful to the pig, but also to someone (Someone?) for giving him the pig. In the end, he seems content to simply record the emotion he feels and leave it there. But what a moment and what a remarkable description of the moment! This passage feels to me like a groping toward the gospel. Pollan even articulates an awareness of grace – the pig was a gift more than a product of his labor, and his role was mainly receptiveness. The terminology sounds like some New Testament descriptions of the gospel. Someone or something has supplied a free, unexpected, and undeserved gift, and it feels right to be thankful. It’s perhaps unusual to find a hint of the gospel in a description of a secular, liberal, foodie intellectual killing a pig. But there it is.
Jonah & the Gospel There are even clearer hints of the gospel in another unlikely place: the book of Jonah. Unlikely, because the events described in Jonah occurred about eight hundred years before Jesus, there is no explicit mention in Jonah of any Messianic figure, and the main character of the book is a recalcitrant and sinful man. But Jesus himself invites us to look for hints of the gospel in the book of Jonah.
He does so by referring to his own death and resurrection as ‘the sign of the prophet Jonah’ (Matthew 12.39) and by comparing Jonah’s experience with his own (‘…for just as Jonah… so will the Son of Man…). This suggests that the shape of Jesus’ experience is roughly similar to Jonah’s experience. If we know the stories of both Jonah and Jesus, we can immediately see the similarities. The raging sea and the cross are both places of desperation and death. The fish and the tomb (in which both Jesus and Jonah lie for ‘three days and three nights’) are (quite unexpectedly in each case) a step along the way toward life after death. In both cases, God is the one responsible for this new life – he tells the fish to deposit Jonah on dry land (Jonah 2.6, 10) and he exerts his great power to raise Jesus Christ from the dead (Ephesians 1.19-20).
Jesus sees Jonah’s experience as analogous to his own. You might say that in this case, the New Testament’s use of the Old Testament (i.e. Jesus’ reference to Jonah) actually points to the Old Testament’s use of the New (i.e. Jonah’s story embodying hints of a greater story to come – the redemptive events most central to the gospel itself).
Are there other hints of the gospel in Jonah’s experience? Jesus’ self-comparison with Jonah invites us to ask this question. I think the answer is yes. Most of these hints, however, come by way of contrast between Jonah and Jesus rather than comparison. This is not surprising. It’s easy to imagine that the story of a wayward and disobedient servant of God would more naturally point by negative example toward the perfect servant of God who perfectly fulfilled his mission. Jesus himself says he is ‘greater than Jonah’ (Matthew 12.41). The similarities between Jonah and Jesus show us the glory of Jesus and the gospel, but the differences cause the gospel to shine even more brightly.
And the differences are many. For instance, although Jonah describes his experience in the sea and the fish in terms that sound like death (Jonah 2.1, 5-7) he didn’t actually die in the raging sea or the hungry fish. That’s because his mission was to preach, not to die. By contrast, Jesus’ mission was to preach and also to die. Thankfully, Jesus had more than a near-death experience. He really did die (John 19.34; 1 Corinthians 15.3). Because he did, there’s a gospel to preach.
Moreover, the reason Jonah came close to death was because of his own sin. He himself says this to the sailors on his ship: ‘I know it is because of me that this great tempest has come upon you’ (Jonah 1.12). In fact, throughout the book of Jonah, we see the pagans in the story acting more honorably and righteously than the prophet. The prophet who despises non-Jewish peoples and wishes them harm (Jonah 4.1-2) is the recipient of their sacrificial kindness (Jonah 1.13). The prophet who is slow to experience a change of heart (and it’s not clear that his heart has changed even by the end of the book) sees pagan sailors (Jonah 1.16) and pagan Ninevites (Jonah 3.10) repent and draw closer to God. Jonah’s near-death experience is clearly because of his own sin. The cause of Jesus’ death is utterly different. He dies not because of his own sin but because of the sins of others (2 Corinthians 5.21). The righteous dies for the unrighteous (1 Peter 3.18).
In one sense Jonah willingly chose to enter the raging sea (Jonah 1.12) but this seems to have been mainly because he was out of other options. He was thrown into the sea by the hands of the sailors (Jonah 1.15) but he knew it was actually God casting him into the sea (Jonah 2.3). And it was God’s decision, not Jonah’s, that Jonah would enter the fish: ‘And the Lord appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah’ (Jonah 1.17). In the case of Jesus, it is clear that God sent him to the cross (Acts 4.27-28; Romans 3.25; 8.32). But it is equally clear that Jesus willingly chose the cross: ‘For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord’ (John 10.17-18).
Jonah grudgingly obeyed God after his near-death experience in the fish and went to Nineveh to preach, although his heart still wasn’t in it (Jonah 4.1-3). Jonah’s almost-death was intended by God to win his obedience. But Jesus’ death was his act of obedience: ‘For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous’ (Romans 5.19). After the fish, Jonah’s work was just beginning; God gave him a second chance to fulfill his commission (compare Jonah 1.1-3 and 3.1-3). But at the cross, Jesus could say his work was finished (John 19.30). God’s redemptive plan was accomplished through Jesus’ obedience. With less-than-ideal material to work with in the person of the prophet Jonah, God sovereignly used Jonah’s disobedience to draw people to himself (Jonah 1.16).
What happened to Jonah and Jesus after the fish and the grave? Jonah’s ‘resurrection’ left him in an inglorious pile of fish vomit on the shore (Jonah 2.10). Jesus rose gloriously from the dead (Romans 1.4) and ascended into Heaven, to the right hand of God (Ephesians 1.20-23). So, although Jesus went lower than Jonah (he actually died), his ascent was infinitely higher.
All these differences make surprising the very difference between Jonah and Jesus that Jesus himself highlights: the responses they received. The people of Nineveh accepted Jonah’s post-fish preaching humbly, immediately, and completely. They repented when they heard his warning. Not so the people of Jesus’ generation. ‘The men of Nineveh will rise up at the judgment with this generation and condemn it, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and behold, something greater than Jonah is here’ (Matthew 12.42). Although Jesus doesn’t say it explicitly, the implication is clear: his own generation by and large did not heed his message.
Why does this comparison between Jonah and Jesus matter? It matters because it points us to our perfect Savior, a Savior who willingly died for our sins (rather than his own) and was then raised from the dead by God into unimaginable and eternal splendor. He was rejected by many of his own generation but will be praised forever by his people. This is the gospel according to Jonah.
A version of this article previously ran on The Gospel Coalition.
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Stephen Witmer is the pastor of Pepperell Christian Fellowship in Pepperell, Massachusetts. He serves on the editorial board of Themelios and is author of the Good Book Guide to Jonah, newly released from the Good Book Company. If you order five or more copies of the Good Book Guide to Jonah at www.thegoodbook.com and enter ‘gbgj’ at checkout, you’ll get 40% off.
Reinterpreting the Great Commission - Part One
There's a good chance you've misinterpreted the Great Commission. Jesus' command to make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:18-20) is frequently summoned to validate countless evangelism programs. Great Commission flags are planted at end of sentences and sermons in order to summit all kinds of discipleship agendas. What was the agenda of Jesus in giving these commissions to the church? What if the Great Commission means something different or deeper than we imagined? In order to mine the meaning of the Great Commission, I propose we read all five commissions together.1 The four commissions in the NT are actually variations of the same mandate (Matt. 28:18-20; Mark 16:15; Luke 24:48-49/Acts 1:8; John 20:21), each issued by Jesus, emphasizing a slightly different aspect of what it means to be a disciple. The operative verbs in these NT commissions are: make disciples, preach, witness, and send. They are gospel mandates. The OT commission, frequently referred to as the creation or cultural mandate, was issued by God before the Fall of humanity, emphasizing creative activity with the following verbs: be fruitful, multiply, rule, and subdue (Gen 1.27-28).2 It is a creative mandate. Did the Great Commission swallow the Cultural Mandate? Are these commissions at odds?
Make Culture or Make Disciples? A surface reading of these Old and New Testament texts certainly seems to pose two different mandates: one for culture-making and the other for disciple-making. In Genesis it would seem that the purpose of humanity is to produce people and culture, whereas the Gospels appear to advocate pulling away from people and culture. As a result, many choose one reading over the other, disciple-making or culture-making, soul-winning or social action. Depending on which we choose, we may end up leaning "liberal" or "conservative". Misinterpretation over the Great Commission has lead to a great divide between Christians. The gospel actually bridges this divide. We need to allow both Genesis and the Gospels to speak into our understanding of Jesus' great commission. In fact, reading the gospel commissions in light of the cultural commission reveals a multi-layered, mandate. When read in stereo, these commissions transmit a mission much bigger than we might have imagined.
The rest of this article will move beyond poverty-ridden proof texts into the wealth of the biblical commissions. This will require confrontation with the Bible's demands to make culture and disciples, to care for creation and be agents of new creation. As a result, we will be challenged to understand and embrace discipleship as more than spiritual disciplines or evangelistic programs. We will see that Scripture calls us to missional discipleship, a following after Jesus that requires redemptive engagement not just with souls but with creation and culture.
Gospel of Matthew: Distinctive Discipleship Part of what makes the Great Commission great is its scope. When Jesus said: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations" he was orienting a primarily Jewish audience to a distinctly multi-ethnic mission. Ralph Winter pointed out that this is not calling Christians to Christianize nation-states, but to evangelize particular ethnic groups. We get the word, "ethnic" from the Greek word for nations, which refers not to modern geo-political states, but instead to non-Jewish ethnic groups (aka Gentiles). In other words, Christ does not advocate Christendom, a top-down political Christianity. Instead, in affirmation of the cultural mandate, he calls his followers to transmit a bottom-up, indigenous Christianity, to all peoples in all cultures.
In light of the cultural orientation of discipleship, Andrew Walls makes an interesting observation. He points out that the command in Matthew is to make disciples of all nations not from all nations. What's the difference? If we interpret the command as "make disciples from ethnic groups", then one could easily misconstrue the commission as a command to remove disciples from their culture. However, if his command means to "make disciples of all nations", the command implies we are meant to make disciples within their culture. Is the gospel meant to rescue disciples from their cultures or from their sin? Is the Great Commission meant to quarantine Christians from the world in order to create one vast Christian subculture? Not at all. Walls comments:
Conversion to Christ does not produce a bland universal citizenship: it produces distinctive discipleship, as diverse and variegated as human life itself. Christ in redeeming humanity brings, by the process of discipleship, all the richness of humanity's infinitude of cultures and subcultures into the variegated splendor of the Full Grown Humanity to which the apostolic literature points (Eph 4.8-13).3
What we should strive for is distinctive discipleship, discipleship that uniquely expresses personal faith in each disciple's cultural context. As a result, disciples in urban Manhattan will look different than disciples in rural Maehongson. They speak different languages, worship in different buildings, eat different foods, and encounter different challenges. These differences allow for a flourishing of the gospel that contributes to the many-splendored new humanity of Christ. Matthew's commission calls us to make disciples that reveal the various beauties of Christ across cultures. Jesus' command is neither soul-centered not culture-centered but gospel-centered. When the gospel is transmitted within nations, it will produce culturally diverse, distinctive disciples.
According to the Gospel of Matthew, distinctive disciples are those who who, in following Jesus, refuse a one-sided, soul-centered gospel, and instead live out faith in context. The distinctive disciple retains the image of Adam — a culture maker — while growing in the image of Christ and becoming a disciple-maker.
Gospel of Mark: A Worldly Gospel Mark's commission reads: "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation" (Mk. 16:15).4 Where Matthew emphasizes the action of making distinctive disciples, Mark stresses the importance of preaching to all creation.
When Jesus used the word "preach" he did not mean converse. The Greek word for preach always carries a sense of urgency and gravity. What is to be proclaimed is of great importance. In Mark's case, it is the gospel that is of utmost importance. This gospel is to be proclaimed to "the whole creation." We might say it is a worldly gospel.
The Greek word for "creation" can be used both broadly and narrowly, referring to the cosmos or to people. Given Mark's context, it should be taken broadly, referring to the world, its peoples and its cultures. Preaching the gospel of Christ has cosmic implications. So it is with Paul: "this gospel has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and of which I, Paul, became a minister" (Col. 1:23). Paul perceives himself as an announcer of a worldly, Christ-centered gospel. Jesus has reconciled all things to himself, whether on earth or in heaven (Col. 1:20). Paul preaches with Mark's great commission emphasis — preaching for the redemption of all creation.
Interestingly, while this worldly gospel saves, it also condemns. In Mark, Jesus explains that not all will believe this grand Story or receive its great Savior: "Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned" (Mk. 16:16). Mark's commission reveals the divisive nature of the gospel. For some it brings life; for others it acknowledges death, but all are to be given the opportunity to be written into the story of God's redemption.
As with Matthew, the scope of God's redemptive activity is important. From the beginning, God's design for creation was for it to flourish and become inhabitable. Outside of Eden, the earth was uninhabitable. Humanity was charged with the task of caring for the earth and creating culture, making the uninhabitable habitable.
Adam failed to trust God with this task and sought to rule not only over creation, but also over God. As a result, the creation project was subjected to sin and calamity (Rom. 8:20). Israel followed in Adam's footsteps. Then came Jesus. Jesus preached a worldly gospel, a restorative message that put the creation project back on track. His glorified, resurrection body is clearly proof of the new creation to come. He redeems both physically and spiritually.
Just prior to ascending to heaven, Jesus told those who believe that they will be given power to heal the sick, restore the demon-possessed, and to speak new languages (Mk. 16:17-18). This worldly gospel is for the redemption and renewal of the earth, the body, the heart, the mind, and the cultures of the world. It is a saving message that rescues people from their unbelief, not their world, and reconciles their alienation from one another, their world, and their Creator.
According to the Gospel of Mark, Jesus died to bring life to all creation, to restore the environment, renew cultures and remake peoples, spiritually and physically. We are called to preach a worldly gospel.
Why Make Disciples?
When we’re told to make disciples, to share our lives and the gospel with other people, very often objections spring to mind. Here are three possible objections to why you might not be making disciples, followed by two reasons to make disciples.
Objection #1: I don’t have time. To this objection, Jesus would say: “How can you not have time?” This is why I gave you the gospel, to multiply disciples. Remember my parting words before I ascended to heaven to pray for you, the Great Commission? “Go therefore and make disciples, teaching them to obey all I have commanded” (Matt 28:19)? How can you not have time to share my words, the greatest news on earth, with your family, friends, and neighbors?
The truth is, we all have time to disciple others. The obstacle to making disciples isn’t time; it is our values. We simply value something else more than we value making disciples. We may value our independence, our convenience, our comfort, or our work more than we value sharing our lives and the gospel with others. It’s not that we don’t have time; it’s that we don’t have the value for making discples.
Objection #2: I don’t know enough. That simply isn’t true. Most Americans have more theological education than most Christians in the world, and yet African and Asian Christians are multiplying disciples rapidly. Moreover, discipleship isn’t knowledge-based; it’s gospel and life based. Don’t put your faith in knowledge; put your faith in the gospel, which bears fruit when we share it and share our lives. Share the gospel with others by sharing how the gospel has changed you. Tell your story of redemption. Testify to the power of Christ in forgiving your past, present and future sin. Disclose the reckless love of Christ in dying your deserved death, so that you could receive an undeserved life. If you know the gospel, you know enough. If you have a story of redemption, you have a story to tell! There are people in your neighborhood, workplace, and church that need you. More importantly, they need Christ. It’s not that you don’t know enough. If you know Jesus, then you know more than enough!
Objection #3: I don’t want to. Two brief responses. First, your wants need to change. You are too easily satisfied. Pause, search your heart, and inquire what you want more than Christ. What is it that is so important, that it is worth denying others the opportunity to hear the greatest news on earth? Confess that to your merciful Master, and ask for a changed heart.
Second, you need more to boast in. Paul writes: “But since we were torn away from you, brothers, for a short time, in person not in heart, we endeavored the more eagerly and with great desire to see you face to face…For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? For you are our glory and joy” (1 Thess 2:17–20).
Make Disciples Because it Makes You Happy Why did Paul make disciples? Hope, joy, and pride. Notice that his motivation comes from looking to the future. He has a hope for when he stands before the Lord Jesus at his coming. What is his hope? His hope is his joy and crown. He’s looking forward to the day he stands before Christ, and hoping to say to Jesus: “Here’s what I have for you—my joy and my crown—my disciples, Lord. They are my ‘pride and joy.’” Here is best of the best I can give. They are my glory, the greatest gift I could give to my King. What’s your pride and joy? A book, record, or movie collection? Your academic or sporting achievements? Your home, car, or clothes? Is that really what you want to parade before King Jesus when he comes back? “Look I was faithful, I have a great DVD collection.”
Does your pride and joy motivate you to make disciples? Paul had found a deeper motivation than duty in making disciples. The reason he made disciples is because they were his pride and joy. Watching my daughter take her first breath was amazing. I was filled with pride and joy as she entered the world—a Dodson. As she bore our resemblance, and entered our family, she beamed (and screamed) with life! Radiant with our image, she evoked tears of joy and swells of pride. Watching others take their first spiritual breath also brings pride and joy. Watching my children grow into walking, talking, drawing, reasoning, dancing, loving people brings me so much joy, and so does watching disciples grow into the image of Christ.
As disciples take in the gospel and exhale Christlikeness, pride swells, not in our own efforts, but in who they have become. A Christian, a little Christlike person! Joy bursts through the heart, when you witness their first steps of obedience. The pride and joy of watching men and women become disciples of Jesus is unmatched. Disciples remind us of the enduring value of the gospel, bringing us joy before the Lord. Make disciples because it makes you happy.
Make Disciples Because it Makes You Proud Pride and joy you say? Isn’t pride a sin? Not necessarily. Pride and joy can actually fit together in a holy way. Think about it. Have you ever witnessed disinterested, joyless boasting. Have you ever seen a basketball player boast their championship win with a frown on their face? Do people begrudgingly boast in their unique collection? No, they actually take so much joy in them that it overflows in happy boasting. They show off the rare records, parade the unique collection, brandish the championship ring because deep joy overflows in pride. Joy can overflow in holy pride.
Holy pride is a deep delight in what God has done, not in what you have done. This holy pride emerges when you witness the transformation of a disciple. You know you aren’t the ultimate cause, but you get a front row seat to their change as God works. You brandish grace in their life. You lift up Christ. Deep joy over flows in holy pride when we make disciples. Time, knowledge, and desire will bound forth when we see that making disciples is our pride and joy before King Jesus. This is precisely why Paul can say of his disciples: “you are my glory and my joy.” Make disciples because it brings deep joy that overflows in holy pride before King Jesus.