Small Steps into Discipleship to Christ: God's Love

I had been pondering discipleship to Christ, hoping to clear the muddy water a little bit.  I began writing some ideas, but found myself floundering a bit.  As with a mucky pond, sometimes the best way to see clearly is to let it settle.  Recently a friend reminded me that walking with God is more about hitting singles than a home run.  I felt a settling.  I wanted to share some ideas that would make discipleship to Christ accessible to small steps and yet also transforming to our lives.


God loves you.  If you don't get this, nothing else will work in discipleship to Christ.  When the famous verse says, "God so loved the world,"  we often think of God standing over the globe, with hands outstretched, somehow wishing it well.  Although God is over and above and beyond and bigger than our world (actually our universe), he is never watching "from a distance."  He permeates this universe much like our spirits permeate our own bodies.

"God so loved the world" indicates God's closeness, his intimacy.  He is "especially fond" of each of us.  He is closely involved in every person's life, to such a degree that even the very hairs on our head are numbered and that he knows what we will ask before we ask him.  These are statements not so much of God's omniscience, but of his intimate knowledge of each of us.  He knows and he cares.


This is good news.  Actually it is the good news of the Christian faith.  If anything comes before this, we get in big trouble.  God seeks to save each person because he loves each person.  I am not saved so I can go to church.  I am not saved so I can save other people.  I am not saved so I can keep other people from suffering. I am not saved so I can become a better person.  I am not saved so I can love God.  While all of these are wonderful outcomes of salvation, I am saved because God values and loves me.  I could not be lost unless I was worth finding.

The word "For" in "For God so loved the world" indicates this is the reason statement.  It states the "why" in this particular passage.  I believe it goes beyond that as well.  It is the reason for everything: creation, the Fall of humanity, Israel's history, redemption through Christ, heavenly life, etc.  It all happens because God so loved the world.

This is good news because it cuts through all the other reasons and focuses each life on a single point.  So many things are good.  So many things seem necessary.  But when it comes down to it, the only thing that really matters is just you and God.  When that is right, everything comes around right.  When that is wrong, everything comes out wrong.

Over and over again discipleship is about being reminded and realizing God's love for you.  There is enormous freedom in it.  Nothing else matters compared to this love.  Without this as the primary reason, discipleship will either fade into mere sentimentality or harden into some form of self-righteousness.  Discipleship is primarily living in the light of God's love.  God's love is for you as an individual above all else. He doesn't love you because of anything.  He just loves you.  And deeply.

Do you live with God "at a distance?"  How often does God make his love known to you?  In what ways does he show it?  One person wrote "Ninety percent of the time God speaks to me through the Bible.  When he speaks, ninety percent of the time he tells me how much he loves me."  Is this similar to your experience?

As Good as Dead

For if you remain silent, I will be like those who go down to the pit.  (Psalm 28:2)

More and more I see why God had to send the gospel, that is "good news" to me.  There is a strange human propensity to focus on what is miserable.  I guess I am not altogether surprised.  Such continual harping on the evils of the day are an indirect accusation against God.

The Psalmists teach me that such indirect accusations rot in my bones.  They make God silent because I refuse to listen.  I am tempted to bury my head in the sand of my objections, accusations, and cynical statements because they justify my rotten thoughts and actions.  When God remains silent, I wither away.

Occasionally, God is absent because he wants to teach me to draw nearer to him.  He may want to teach me deeper spiritual matters through a "desert time" or a "dark night."  More often, however, God is silent because I  shut him up.  I refuse to receive his comfort and wisdom.  I prefer my own worries and complaints to his help and comfort.  Why?

I guess I get upset that I cannot navigate this life alone.  I get mad that I am dependent on God.  I vent my frustration on everyone around me that I am not the sole object of their respect, concern, or care.

I can learn from these people of prayer in the Psalms that without this "good news" I am as good as dead.  When the Word from God is forgotten, nothing remains except fear and pain.  The gospel teaches that the heart of this universe is not "survival of the fittest" or random movements of molecules, but a Word that communicates love.  God's love is at the heart of this universe.

Something has gone dreadfully wrong with life on earth, however.  But it is not a matter of things "being made that way."  It is a matter of people refusing to accept how things are made.  Like Milton's Satan, it is easier to imagine reigning in hell than serving in heaven.  It is frightening how often we choose to reject the good news of God's love and power made plain and certain in Jesus and embrace a world of mere survival and filling our stomachs.

This wrongness that I run across every day is not what started everything.  This ruin that has occurred could not be what brought everything into being.  Neither will this wrongness finish everything, either.  This is good news.  What I see every day is not what has always been, nor what will always be.  It is a small interruption in something that has no beginning and no end.  Goodness only ends when evil comes.  Goodness and the pleasure of goodness is infinite.  Evil is temporary and fleeting.

God does not remain silent.  He spoke everything into existence.  His very Word that created the universe came and recreated what was broken in that universe.  Renewal is under way, beginning with the hearts and lives of his crowning creation.  It will be completed with all things being made new.  God does not remain silent.  His Word is the final Word.

Lord, I feel myself falling into a pit as I listen to most people talk, including myself.  Faith is forgotten.  Hope is distant.  Love is cold.  But you speak and I am saved.  I praise you.  Amen.


The main thing is not straining my ears to hear God, but unplugging my ears.  C.S. Lewis wrote in The Screwtape Letters that the devil is not so much trying to put things into my mind as much as keep things out.  I want to take more time to just listen.

Who's in Charge?

Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.  So the soldiers took charge of Jesus.  (John 19:7)

Here is an example of irony in John's gospel. Pilate "hands Jesus over" to be crucified. The soldiers "take charge" of him. Following these statements, Pilate and the soldiers continually and unknowingly fulfill scripture after scripture through their actions. John almost describes them as acting out a script.

It is not that they were forced to do something they didn't want to do. Pilate meant to shame Jesus and the Jewish nation by calling Jesus "King of the Jews." The soldiers acted out of greed in stealing Jesus' clothes and perhaps out of malice in giving him vinegar for his thirst and a spear thrust to ensure his death. If they were actors in a play, they were not playing parts, but just being themselves.

The scene was laid out long before. The cruelty and mockery of people at the cross was nothing less than the picture of human justice without God painted long ago. However such a scene was foreseen, it was true to fallen human nature. Entirely predictable. God's plan was to take the irony of people who thought they were in charge and show that his plans and hopes would supercede all of theirs.

Pilate and the soldiers and the Jewish leaders thought they were in charge because they were giving the orders not realizing that their orders were already accounted for and allowed by Jesus and his Father. They were allowed to show what kind of people we truly are and how God cannot be outmaneuvered by any evil. Like a two-year old saying "Mine!" or "No, I won't!" these people found themselves swept into a much larger world than Rome or Israel. The kingdom of God was present and superceding their little actions with the reality of God's influence on the behalf of his Son and his people. Human will opposed Divine will and was overcome with goodness. Scripture fulfillment just showed the inevitability of God's victory.

The irony is not that everything is planned out before I do anything. The irony is that my efforts to oppose God and his kingdom will end up working for him. Nothing will circumvent the kingdom of God. All will bring God glory and show his goodness. God's light may show in spite of my actions and intentions, but it will shine. The irony is that thinking and living as if I am in charge clearly shows that I am not in charge even of the "little" things that are mine to do.

As John thought and wrote, he saw the hand of God in the cross. Each moment seemed choreographed for this purpose. This was to give Jesus' followers certainty that the cross was not a mistake or a problem, but the known outcome of human sinfulness confronting God's mercy and grace. It was the final, best effort of humanity to push God away when he had come too close. The resurrection is God's answer to that effort. He will not leave. He will not abandon us.  God's love is in charge, not human rebellion.

The other picture at the cross is John and Jesus' mother. Jesus entrusted John with the care of his mother. Perhaps he also explained to the ones who knew they weren't in charge what they could take charge of. Realizing God is in charge frees me to work under him and for him in my own place, in my own family, and in my own ways. In the midst of the apparent tragedy of Jesus crucifixion, Jesus says to his closest friend and his mother: "Love each other. Do what you can for each other. This is what you can do. I'm in charge of all that is happening here.  Now I'm giving you this to be in charge of: Love each other." So the ones who thought they were in charge were not and the ones who stood helplessly before Jesus were given a command by the one who was really in charge.

Lord, let me stand before your cross with helplessness. Let me stand before you knowing I am not in charge. Let me be so faithful to stand and wait for you, even as John and Mary did. Let me follow your commands even if they come from the cross. Only in this kind of helplessness can I find what you would have me to do. Amen.

So here are the two pictures of myself. Either I think I am in charge and I go forward to do what I think is best. In the end I crucify Christ either through fear, greed, or necessity. I can also stand in utter helplessness before the cross. I can watch the will of God being done all around me. I can do what he asks me to do, knowing he is in charge: Love one another.

One Thing

One thing I ask of the LORD,

  this is what I seek:

that I may dwell in the house of the LORD

  all the days of my life,

to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD

  and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)

In the movie City Slickers, Billy Crystal asks Jack Palance what life is about. He says, "One thing." The truth of this statement lies in what it says about human nature. We gather ourselves around one thing. We are made as jars of clay that hold one treasure. We are made to serve one master. "One thing" is all we can really hold.



In these days of desperately juggling my things and appointments, I find that I long for a life of one thing.  Apparently I can worry about many things, but I can only be truly devoted to one thing. So this hardened cowboy seems to understand this fact of life. Although many things call (or scream) for my attention, only one thing truly has it.


There is one thing which will come out one top in the end. One thing will push all the others down. One thing will be the priority of my moments and my days. One thing will be what I slowly or frantically head for. Other things will be made to serve it.


The Psalmist calls out his "one thing." Dwelling with God so that he might gaze upon his beauty. What is this beauty of the Lord? What could be so engrossing to occupy my whole life as my "one thing?" Worship is included in this, no doubt, but there is much more.


There is safety and strength in this faithful gaze on God. Jesus said to Martha, who was worried about many things, that Mary's gaze of devotion on Jesus as her "one thing" would not be taken from her. This is the promise in this Psalm. Such faith will not be taken through force or hatred.


In this dwelling with God, I will not be forsaken. Even my father and mother may forsake me, but God will receive me. I may find I cannot see him at times, my gaze will be clouded. God will not forsake me, though. I will call out and he will answer. I can wait on him confidently.


In this midst of this gaze, the Lord will teach me his ways. Only his ways provide protection from those who would harm me. His lessons are not about avoiding harm, but about drawing near to him so that I will be free from harm. In a faithful gaze upon the beauty of the Lord, I will find life that cannot be extinguished.


Lord, let me dwell with you and gaze upon you all the days of my life. Let my wonder and love never cease. Let this be my faith: the faith of Mary who sat at Jesus' feet, gazing and listening. Amen.


A.Z. Tozer talks about this gaze being faith in The Pursuit of God. Through Jesus and his Spirit, I need not rely on temples and sacrifices to gaze upon God's beauty. These shadows point to the light of salvation: Christ. His word, his life, his cross, and his resurrection will occupy my gaze for all eternity. . . . starting today.

Immersion into the Trinity

The Trinity is a concept about God.  No doubt it falls short of capturing who God is.  As honored and true as it might be, I must never forget that it cannot capture the fullness of God nor set boundaries around him.  Words and ideas fail to hold God.

With that said, the Trinity is a concept of genius.  As a tool for plumbing the depths of God, it is powerful and compelling.  It is simple and yet profound.  It captures many truths in Scripture and brings them together into an idea of just how personal God is. 

It is always the same God, but the ‘person’ or the ‘face’ or ‘voice’ by which we receive the revelation varies.  But here’s the thing: every part of the revelation, every aspect, every form is personal – God is relational at the core – and so whatever is said, whatever is revealed, whatever is received is also personal and relational.  (Eugene Peterson, Eat This Book, p.27)

The Trinity is a revelation of how intimate God is with us.  It is not close enough to call him Father.  It is not dear enough to know the Son alone.  It is not intimate enough to live with the Spirit.  The intimacy of God spans the universe and reaches into its most remote corners; the Father is above, beyond, and fills all things.  The friendship of God walks with me and talks with me and teaches me as a human being; the Son is my brother, my friend, and my teacher.  God speaks through my thoughts and feelings and through the voices of other people moved in their minds and empowered in their hearts; the Spirit blows all around me and through my very being.  God is above me.  God is beside me.  God is within me.  Trinity.

No wonder I am baptized into this faith.  Baptism is not about water, but about immersion.  I am baptized into the reality of the Trinity.  Baptism is not a once and for all occasion, but a continuing reality that I live in and share with others: immersion in the Trinity.  I am brought under this God.  I and buried with this God.  I am filled with life from this God.  Everything in me is soaked with God.  The symbol of baptism is like a wedding to a marriage.  It is special.  It is a beginning.  It is a promise.  It is not the reality, though.

Trinity also captures the fact that God has life without me.  He is relational without my contribution.  Within himself, he is family and community.  God is not lonely.  God is full.  God is life.  God is love.  Trinity shows that what he brings is a gift.  He does not need me is the sense that I need him or other people.  It cannot be said “It is not good for God to be alone” like the Bible says about people.  He is enough for himself and complete in himself.

But God does need me in his love.  Because he loves so deeply, so intimately, and so completely, he does not want to live without me.  For me to love him, he must allow that I might not love him.  Trinity shows that as personal and close as God is to me, he is different from me.  I can choose to be a part of his reality or choose another.

Lord, may I live a baptized life, one immersed in your intimate love.  May I find ways to relate with you as Trinity, not neglecting your pervasive presence.  Fill my life like a cup to overflowing.  Amen.

The concept of Trinity is not a remote theological term intended merely for apologetics and other religious talk.  Eugene Peterson puts it well.

We must not, even for a moment, suppose that Trinity is something thought up by theologians to deal with advanced mysteries quite remote for the daily work of people like us who have babies and to work for a living.  No it was the work of Christians like us (some of them maybe a little smarter than we are!) learning and teaching each other to read their Bibles as fully and attentively and personally and responsively as they were able.  They wanted to read in such a way their lives became congruent with the text.  (Ibid,  p.28)