Taking a Breath

We’ve been on this journey into deep discipleship for about two years now, and what a journey it’s been! I’m so appreciative of all of your questions, comments, and emails as we wrestle with what it means to become more like Jesus from the inside out. Keep them coming!

As I routinely do on the Soil & Roots podcast, it’s time to take a step back, breathe, and zoom out to remind ourselves of the context of our quest into depth.

I’m about ready to launch into a new phase of our sojourn—uncovering our genuine ideas of God—and this seems like a good place to pause before we do.

Consider this article and the next as “bonus” columns, designed to help us get a lay of the land before we dive back in.

If you’ve listened to the podcast, you may recall that we begin in Season 1 exploring The Great Omission, philosopher Dallas Willard’s description of modern Western Christianity. The modern church talks about making disciples but struggles to do so. This is the problem Soil & Roots exists to help solve.

However, after dialoguing with many of you over the past several years, I’ve realized it makes sense to back up a bit.

So let’s not start our review with the problem that makes true discipleship so difficult. Instead, let’s begin with a vision of who a deep disciple is.

Our Starting Point

A deep disciple is someone who is relationally secure in Jesus at the most guttural level. She exists in the ever-present, intimate reality of God’s love and presence.

Last week, I posted a few descriptions of this deep disciple from a few of my favorite thinkers.

A.W. Tozer wrote,

“He exists in a world of spiritual reality. He is quietly, deeply, and sometimes almost ecstatically aware of the presence of God in his own nature and in the world around him.”

Janet Hagberg and Robert Guelich add some color:

“…we have lost ourselves in the equation, and at the same time we have truly found ourselves. We are selfless...We are at peace with ourselves, fully conscious of being the person God has created us to be. Obedience comes very naturally without deliberation because we are so immersed in God’s work.”

A deep disciple is someone who lives the Good Life, or the “with-God life.” They are often called Christian mystics - people whose inner life is being formed by an experiential union with God.

One of These Things…

They often come across as a bit odd.

A deep disciple doesn’t seek the spotlight or try to become an influencer. In an age where “Christian celebrity” has somehow become viewed as a positive, they usually prefer to stay in the shadows.

They tend to move more slowly than most of us are comfortable with, and they somehow always have time to make time.

Deep disciples have an amazing capacity to forgive and love their enemies. This doesn’t mean they always sit down and have coffee with those who continually malign and harm them - a deep disciple doesn’t give up her agency. It does mean they pray for those who seek their harm, even if prayer is their primary expression of love.

They experience a full range of emotions, yet seem able to hold peace, love, and joy beneath, even as they express righteous anger, confusion, and grief.

They are shockingly self-aware and at home in their own skin. They are free to give themselves to anyone, yet are appropriately shrewd in their relationships. They delight in people, yet if they are disliked or slandered, it doesn’t bother them much. They aren’t people pleasers, though they find genuine joy in serving in even the most mundane ways.

A deep disciple lives with “holy indifference,” a forgotten term that means they enjoy pleasure and possessions, but aren’t distraught when those things disappear. Because they are prone to acts of radical generosity that result in self-sacrifice, “stuff” holds a light rein on their souls.

They seem less concerned with being right and more with being faithful. They are less concerned with winning and more concerned with loving. They speak hard, candid words at times, yet even those words are seasoned with the sense that they have your back.

A deep disciple hates what God hates and loves what He loves. Obedience is like breathing, perfectly normal and organic.

They may be wealthy, but probably not. Suffering has been a theme in their life, and it has become a friend.

They are remarkably present and attuned. They spend little time in the past or the future, because one often produces remorse, and the other anxiety. They live in the “now,” and let the past and future take care of themselves. When they are with you, they are with you.

They are diligent but not overworked, productive but rarely concerned with performance. When they need help, they ask for it.

They sometimes seek solitude and silence, often in nature.

A deep disciple acknowledges Jesus as King of the Universe, and He is in the process of renewing all things: the church, the family, business, education, the arts, media, and (gasp) even the government. They long to be part of that renewal wherever God invites them to participate, though their participation doesn’t usually involve a platform or the accumulation of much power.

They don’t mind being inconvenienced or interrupted, particularly when they sense God in motion, and they seem to sense that a lot.

Some people are attracted to deep disciples, and others are repulsed, whether inside or outside of a church.

Indeed, a deep disciple seems…odd.

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The Lost Disciple

When I talk about deep discipleship and share the above description, responses vary. Most are surprised because they’ve never been told that the point of discipleship is to accept God’s invitation into this type of inner security and outward love. If they have thought about the Good Life, most assume it’s Pollyannaish and unattainable in this age.

I suspect that’s part of the reason why, as we’ve discovered, so few people experience the Good Life. According to our light research, about 3% of people who claim some affiliation with Jesus become this type of person.

Yet this is the type of life Jesus and His friends promised. Their generous descriptions of the abundant life, peace with God and others, abounding love, being filled with the fruit of righteousness, relentlessly pursuing unity, knowing the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, and being filled to the fullness of God make it clear that deep discipleship is the invitation to all, and readily available at that.

It appears that most of us assume that the point of discipleship is something other than the Good Life. Perhaps we assume it means becoming the most theologically accurate, the busiest, the most prominent, the most aggressive, doing the most good works, or something else performance-related.

In my little corner of the world, being a disciple is typically associated with intellectually holding the most accurate beliefs. If my social media feeds are any indication, we are true disciples if we agree with someone’s correct positions on baptism, end times, immigration, denominationalism, communion, conformity, the inerrancy of Scripture, war, politics, theological systems, and the environment.

Those are all worthy topics with which to wrestle, and I hold relatively firm positions on most of them. Yet it is entirely true to say I can be intellectually accurate and no more loving than I was five years ago.

Indeed, a brief survey of Christian mystics throughout history reveals a staggering array of theological perspectives. If they were to all gather in one place, I’m not sure how many finer points they would agree on, yet I suspect they would insist on loving God and neighbor, and do so with reckless abandon.

Truth, after all, is a Person.

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And so perhaps the question before us is simpler—and more unsettling—than we might like. It is not merely whether the Good Life is real. The lives of Jesus, the apostles, and the saints throughout history suggest that it is.

The deeper question is whether we actually want it. Do we want to become the sort of person who is free from the endless need to prove ourselves? Do we want the kind of life where love replaces control, where security replaces anxiety, and where obedience becomes unconscious?

The Good Life, after all, is not hidden from us. It is not reserved for a spiritual elite or a handful of extraordinary saints, and certainly not for the modern Christian celebrity. It is quietly offered to anyone willing to receive it.

The only real question left is whether we will step into it…or quietly walk away.

Next week, we’ll continue our summary overview, and then we’ll dive into even deeper waters beyond.

Duc In Altum!

Brian