In the process of following God into the unknown, there are questions that we ask Him and questions He asks us. Ours matter a whole lot less than His because ours don’t usually do anything but get answered by the eventuality of time going by; they are settled by attrition and eventually show themselves meaningless because they are ultimately self-preservationist and unChristian. But His questions usually move things and people into massive transformational experiences that are everlasting. One such question serves as our title for this blog.
There Are Two Possible Answers
When I understood what God was getting at in asking me the above question, the answers came almost immediately. If you haven’t experienced this—the moment of inspiration when God speaks and you understand Him—I believe it is there for the asking. It’s not something He only does with a few of His children, and this blog isn’t intended to make anyone feel inferior. If you haven’t heard Him speak, simply ask Him. He gives good gifts—ones that can’t burn in the fires of futility that mark the kingdom of Mammon’s dominion.
As I said, the answers came immediately, and they were twofold. What does discipleship look like? For me, it can follow one of two paths.
It can be institutional
It can be relational
The first option requires lots of support, lots of resource. It needs a facility with staff and regulations and locks and keys and certain people to hold them (and others not to). It will need a stage with lights and sound. It will require gobs of fundraising and documentation, and it’s going to need governance, procedures, and so on.
But the second option needs only people. It needs a moment. It requires faith. It builds with invisible, everlasting materials. And it travels light.
Most importantly, it’s how Jesus did it.
Discipleship Has Synonyms
When we ask the question, “What does discipleship look like?” there are other words that can fill in for discipleship that actually augment the impact of this question on how we live our lives. Church can stand in there. Fellowship and community can stand in there. And I believe God, in asking me the first question, was leading me to ask others that probe much deeper into our presumptions about what’s all right and proper in the faith.
What does church look like? Is it institutional? Does it require buildings and chairs and stages and all that resource? What does community look like? Is it dependent upon things like rules and expectations? Is fellowship a thing to be quantified, planned, and executed? But I have deeper questions, and I think they may unsettle you.
What If?
Pick any ministry with global reach in this moment and employ it as the subject of a little thought experiment I would like to indulge in with you. Have you got it in your mind? Have you pictured its logo? Do you have in your mind its personalities, it facilities, its branding, and its products? Now do this: imagine yourself as the leader, the founder, the entrepreneurial force that built it, runs it, and keeps drawing fans. Imagine yourself as the head of that global ministry.
I’m going to assume you’re familiar with the book of Job. I’ll also assume you’re even remotely familiar with what church looks like in Ukraine right now. The question I want to ask is this:
What if all those resources were stripped away in a moment?
What if God allowed all the buildings, cameras, gear, channels, buildings, fans, and support to pass away? Remember, you’re the head of this thing. What will you do now? Will you persist in preaching the word and making disciples with nothing but your own two hands, your own unamplified words? If the network you’d built were taken away in a moment, would your first inclination be to set about how to rebuild it, or would you continue the work of making disciples without it? In other words, is it all about the stuff for you, or is it about doing God’s work on the earth while there is still time? Would you waste a single tear crying for stuff that God told you beforehand was going to burn anyway?
What Discipleship Looks Like
I’m not here to tell you that global reach is bad, that things are evil, or that buildings and social media reach are wrong. But I will tell you that what God is saying to us right now is that it is forbidden for any disciple of Christ to suffer himself to harbor a divided heart. No Christian can play games with the world and its seductions and not lose. I don’t want to qualify my walk by requiring God to supply anything to me—to effectively tell Him I won’t serve unless He makes much of me. In fact, if I had that heart I would be no different from Lucifer.
I think perhaps it matters more what is said between brothers in quiet, one-on-one conversations where the masks come off and we can be honest. We must not be deceived into thinking we can only serve God if He gives us a big stage.
That’s not what influence looks like. And it’s not what discipleship looks like.