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Discipleship Series - Part 1
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Discipleship wasn't unique to Jesus in the first century. Rabbis commonly had disciples, and Jewish boys would attend Hebrew school from childhood. At age 12, if they hadn't mastered the scriptures and traditions—or if their teachers thought they weren't smart enough—they'd be expelled and sent to learn a trade. Those who excelled continued deeper into Jewish tradition and scripture until rabbis identified the very best students to become their disciples.
These disciples would follow their rabbis so closely that dust from the rabbi's sandals would cover them. The intimacy was extraordinary—disciples were willing to be with their teachers constantly, learning everything they could. After years of following and learning, they might themselves gather disciples and belong to their rabbi's school, deferring to him on major issues.
By the time Jesus selected his twelve disciples, he had built a significant reputation. He had healed people, delivered the Sermon on the Mount, and performed miracles. He had the clout to recruit from the elite of Hebrew schools—yet he didn't.
"Jesus called his twelve disciples to him and gave them the authority to drive out impure spirits and heal every disease and illness." (Matthew 10:1)
Look at who he chose: fishermen who reeked of fish, a tax collector (a traitor to his own people), a Zealot (a low-key terrorist against Rome), and two men so angry they were called the "sons of thunder." He picked men who hadn't made it through advanced Hebrew school. He picked men with anger issues who wouldn't even like each other.
Imagine the other rabbis gossiping: "Did you hear about that Jesus fellow? He's done some miracles, great sermon on the hill... but you should see who he chose as disciples. Fishermen, a tax collector, a Zealot, and some angry guys. Pretty weird."
From the very beginning of his earthly ministry, Jesus made something clear: it's not about what we can bring to the table. It's about complete reliance on him.
While Jesus was untraditional in who he picked, he was very traditional in how he discipled them. For three years, he spent loads of time with his disciples. There were few instances when he was away from them before the cross.
Spending time with Jesus is where discipleship starts.
"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain on the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." (John 15:4)
If we want to be disciples who bear fruit for God's kingdom, we must start by being with Jesus. He is clear: we cannot do this without him.
In Scripture, the word for "knowing God" is yada—which means to know by experience. We were made to experience God. Daniel 11:32 tells us that "those who know their God will display strength and take action." Knowing God—experiencing him—changes the world.
The journey of discipleship has another crucial dimension: becoming like Jesus.
The early followers of Jesus were so committed to doing what they saw their Master doing that people called them an insult that translates to "little Christs" or Christians. People would literally say, "Look, they're trying to be like Jesus." And the disciples said: Yes, we are. Let's take that label and own it.
Being like Jesus doesn't mean perfection. It means that through reading Scripture, prayer, and pursuing righteousness and justice, you decrease and God increases. People look at you and see less of you and more of him.
When I became a Christian, nothing changed immediately. I was too scared to lose my friends, and I didn't really know how to live as a Christian. No one had discipled me. But about five years in, after receiving real discipleship, I ran into a friend from school. She said, "Man, you've changed."
I panicked: "Good or bad?"
She said, "I don't know... just different. It's nice. Almost too nice."
I thought: If you'd known me before Jesus, you'd know that 'too nice' is not something anyone would ever call me. God had changed me, and he continues to change me.
Margaret Paloma conducted a sociological study of the Toronto Blessing. She found that the majority of people who experienced God in a new way during that outpouring saw significant life changes. But here's what's remarkable: nine years later, the majority of those same people reported that the change had continued. Their marriages had improved, their relationships were stronger, they saw more miracles, and they talked to more people about Jesus.
Why? When you decide to be with Jesus, it makes you like Jesus. Your life changes.
It's not easy, and you'll never be perfect. But that's not the point. The point is to try, to pursue. There's a phrase that transformed my thinking: Grace is opposed to earning, not to effort. You can't do anything to earn Jesus's love. The disciples didn't earn their way into standing with him. But once they met him, they put in the effort so that we could know about him today. That effort didn't make them more or less saved—but it changed the world.
Before Jesus handpicked his questionable twelve, he had people following him, listening, interested. But he picked these twelve and commissioned them: Go and tell others.
"As you go, proclaim this message: 'The kingdom of heaven has come near. Heal those who are ill, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give.'" (Matthew 10:7-8)
The gift of salvation has been so generously given to you and me—and it's not meant to be held tightly. A key part of discipleship is telling others about Jesus. Notice: Jesus didn't give them special training first. He didn't make sure they knew the Torah backwards or had everything figured out. He picked this ragtag bunch and said: Go.
It will be messy. But go.
We can overcomplicate this. Really, it's simple: I met a man who changed my life. Can I tell you about him? Some people will say no. Some will question why we even try. That's up to them. But we have to give them the option.
Before I met Jesus, I wasn't a nice person. I had a friend named Carissa who was lovely—almost too nice. She didn't give up on me, even when I said no to church countless times, even when I thought horrible things about her or said them out loud. She kept asking. She kept trying to tell me about Jesus. She basically forced me to go to youth church one Sunday, and I gave my life to Jesus.
Because of Carissa's persistence, I've spent the last years trying to tell young people about him.
How much is the kingdom missing because we're too scared? Because we don't think we have the right words?
When those disciples were sent out, they went without the Holy Spirit—but you and I are sent out with the power of God inside us. We need to cultivate it, listen to it, and be in tune with it.
Discipleship is about following Jesus, knowing him, and telling others about him. It's hard, but he's given us the Holy Spirit to help us through.
I've been thinking a lot about discipleship over the last year and realizing weak spots in my own journey. If I'm not being discipled by Jesus, I'll be discipled by something else. Something else will have power where Jesus should have power. Something else will have influence where Jesus should have influence.
So I did an inventory: What's influencing me? What's good? What's not?
I don't want to pretend I'm now basically a monk. I love Netflix, Disney Plus, and non-Christian music. I don't think discipleship means removing yourself from all God has given us through creativity. But for me, it was about how I started my day.
I realized I was just ticking boxes: Read the Bible. Pray. Listen to worship music. Done. Check the box. Move on.
One of the most transformative things I found was starting my day in silence.
A year ago, I set a timer for just 30 seconds. Thirty seconds of silence to listen to God. That was hard. I looked after 15 seconds. But the next day, I made it through the whole 30 seconds without peeking. The week after, it was a minute. Then two minutes. We stayed at five for a long time because silence feels very long. But now I start my day with 10 minutes of silence.
Those 10 minutes have been one of the most formational things to my discipleship in the last 10 years. It's not groundbreaking—there's a whole monastic tradition around silence. But for me, that's what was missing: I needed to listen to God more. And he's spoken to me in ways I never expected.
Maybe one day I'll get to 30 minutes or an hour. Right now, 10 minutes feels pretty long. But it's a journey. The disciples were with Jesus for three years and continued learning to be more like him long after. None of us have completed this journey.
I'm challenging you: Don't think you've got it sussed. Ask yourself: Where am I missing in my discipleship?
Maybe you need to read your Bible more. Maybe you need to pray more and speak to God more. Maybe, like me, you need more silence. Maybe you need to talk to other people about Jesus more.
Let me ask you: What does God want you to do?
It could be:
I promise you, it's something.
Let's take a few moments of quiet. Ask God: What do I need to change in my discipleship journey to be more like you?
