Confessions of a Failing Disciple

Over the past three decades, I have failed in countless ways in being a disciple of Jesus, in obeying and honoring him as my Redeemer and Lord. I have wandered the wasteland of religion in an attempt to earn the un-earnable favor of God. I have chased the pleasures of the world, in an attempt to satisfy my infinite longings with finite things. Neither the legalistic rules of religion nor license from rules in worldly living have satisfied. These twists and turns on my discipleship path have not honored Christ. Yet, despite my failures, year after year, the desire to honor and obey Christ has not withered. In fact, it has grown even amidst failure.

“Sharing Your Faith”

Along the way, I’ve come to understand that following Jesus alone is not really what it means to be a disciple. Both the church and the parachurch taught me that being a disciple means making disciples. I was told that this meant two primary things. First, I should be active in “sharing my faith.” Second, I should find Christians who are younger in the faith to tell and show what it means to be older in the faith. It took me quite a while to realize that this practice of making disciples was incomplete. Making disciples requires not only “sharing our faith”, but also sharing our lives— failures and successes, disobedience and obedience. Making disciples is not code for evangelism, nor is it a spiritual system whereby professional Christians pass on best practices to novice Christians.

Professional Disciples vs. Novice Disciples

But I preferred only to disclose my successes, to pass on my accumulated wisdom and knowledge, while hiding my foolishness and ignorance. It’s not that I wasn’t making disciples; people gobbled up my platitudes and piety. The problem was the kind of disciples I was making, disciples who could share their faith but not their failures. Why did I embrace this kind of discipleship? Should blame be laid at the feet of the church or parachurch? Not really. It was my fault. My motivation for obeying Jesus (in this case, making disciples), had shifted from attempting to earn God’s favor, to earning the favor of my disciples. “Disciple” had become a way to leverage my identity and worth in relationship with others. As the dispenser of wisdom and truth, I was comfortably placed on a pedestal. The more disciples I made, the better I felt about myself. My motivation for discipleship was to receive praise, worth, significance. I was a disciple lacking authenticity and community, motivated by a mixture of genuine love and lust for praise. Now, don’t get me wrong, there were a lot of good intentions and a lot of good fruit from these relationships, but in a sense, I was still following Jesus alone. The professional/novice relationship created a comfortable distance, not only from admitting my failures but also from genuine community. I stood at the top of the stairs of discipleship, instead of sitting in the living room with fellow disciples. I put the best foot forward and hid the ugly one behind me. Disciple had become more of a verb than a noun. Less about a community centered on Christ and more about an activity centered on what I know.

The Gospel is for Disciples Not Just Sinners

Fortunately, Jesus is big enough for my misunderstanding of what it means to follow him. As I continued to “disciple” and read the Bible, I was struck by the fact that the disciples of Jesus were always attached to other disciples, that they lived in community. This community was authentic. They confessed their sins and struggles alongside their successes. But they also seemed to continually come back to Jesus, not merely as their example, but also as their identity, their entire sense of self. The New Testament is filled with exhortations to keep Christ at the center of our discipleship, not only for instruction but also for transformation. I began to realize that Jesus is not merely the start and standard for salvation, but that he is the beginning, middle, and end of my salvation. He is my salvation, not just when I was six, but every second of every day.

Contrary to the unforgiving demands of religion, Jesus forgives us when we fail. He doesn’t kick us when we are down, but dies to lift us up. Unlike the deception of worldly pleasure, Jesus offers true satisfaction and joy. Instead of wooing me into death, he leads me into life, his resurrection life. It slowly became apparent to me that the gospel of Christ was where I was meant to find my identity, not in impressing God or others. Refusing to share my life with others, especially my failures, was a refusal to allow the gospel of Christ to accomplish its full breadth of redemption in my life. Very simply, God was leading me into a kind of discipleship with the gospel at the center, a constant, gracious repetition of repentance and faith in Jesus, who is sufficient for my failures and strong for my successes. Jesus frees me from trying to impress God or others because he has impressed God on my behalf. I can tell people my sins because my identity doesn’t hang on what they think of me. I can be an imperfect Christian because I cling to a perfect Christ. As it turns out, the gospel is not just for sinners; it’s also for disciples, disciples who sin.

Discipleship with Jesus in the Center

This kind of discipleship is, in the end, not about what I do but who I am—an imperfect person, clinging to a perfect Christ, being perfected by grace. And in this I am not alone. I am one disciple among many. I no longer stand at the top of the stairs but sit in the living room, where we share our faith and our un-faith, our obedience and disobedience, our success and our failure. With Jesus at the center, we can encourage one another to persevere in faith, to endure in suffering, to increase in love, to multiply in mission, bypassing the professional/novice distinctions. With Jesus at the center, we can obey from our acceptance not for our acceptance. With Jesus at the center, we can be the church to one another and to the world, without bearing the burden of perfection, a burden reserved for the Spirit, who through through grace, makes us more and more like Christ. With Jesus at the center of discipleship, I immediately enter into grace and into community, where making disciples flows from being a disciple.

Partnership Booklet

In preparation for our Partners Class this weekend, we have created an abridged version of the class in booklet form. This booklet will hopefully be a good reference for our Partners to press deeper into Gospel, Community, and Mission as we partner together on the mission of Christ.

This is booklet already needs revisions, but I thought I’d put it up in case someone was interested.

Download the booklet here.

Brief Review of Chester's You Can Change

The book You Can Change, by Tim Chester, promotes a gospel-centered approach to sanctification by asking ten major questions. The real fruit of the book comes through the required Personal Change Project, an endeavor reminiscent of the Personal Counseling Project required by David Powlison’s Dynamics of Biblical Change (and quotes CCEF authors throughout).

The Trinity and Change

Chester gives a little more attention to the role of the Trinity in producing personal change than most books on this topic. The Trinity gives us a new identity: 1) children of the Father 2) bride of the Son and 3) the home of the Spirit. He emphasizes the role of the Spirit in giving us the desire to do what is right, believe what is true, and cherish what is good. The simple emphasis on surrender to our inclination to do what is right and believe what is true was a refreshing reminder that the Spirit is already at work in us and that, very often, we simply need to yield to him. The Spirit opposes sinful desires and promotes God-honoring desires. The challenge is to “sow to the Spirit” by “saying yes to whatever strengthens our Spirit-inspired desires.” When we fail to yield to the Spirit, Scripture calls us to repentance and faith. The way we begin and continue in the Christian life is the same—repentance and faith in Christ.

Who is God?

Ten questions guide the reader through categories similar to Dynamics (heat, thorns, root, fruit, etc). In order to get to “the root”, Chester says that we must find “the lie behind every sin” and then identify one of four truths we are refusing to believe: 1) God is not great 2) God is not glorious 3) God is not good 4) God is not gracious. While a little simplistic, this typology is helpful and moves towards Christ being the expression of God’s greatness, glory, goodness, and grace.

Pride and Preciousness of Christ

The chapter on what stops change was personally transforming.  Chester claims that pride isn’t just a sin; it’s part of the definition of sin. In sin we lift ourselves up over God, but in the gospel grace flows down to us. We need to give up on ourselves, to repent of self-reliance in sanctification and receive God’s grace for change. As one prone to self-reliance and pride, this was a word of grace. Jesus not only shows me humility but humbles me through the cross. The god of self-reliance (or self) is not merciful. When I let it down, it does not forgive. Instead, self-reliance beats me when I am down saying: “You could have done better. You need to work harder. You can do it.” But the gospel tells me the truth: “You can’t do it, but God in Christ through the Spirit can do all things through you.” When I let Christ down, he does not beat me; he dies for me. When I rely on him, not on myself, I discover that he not only dies for me but also lives for me, changing me into his very own image. This is a humbling, transforming, gospel-driven way to live and I am grateful for it!