Deep Discipleship and the Eight Indicators
We’re currently wrestling with The Discipleship Dilemma, one of the Three Primary Problems that make spiritual formation challenging in our era.
Many of us live in cultures where exploring self in relation to discipleship is ignored, rejected, or condemned. The reasons are understandable—self-worship is a deadly idea wreaking havoc in many places around the world.
Yet, to be formed more like someone else requires that we know both the subject and object of our formation. Certainly, we grow to know and love Jesus more deeply, but ignoring or condemning the journey into our own hearts can constrain, if not impede, our spiritual journey. A friend once remarked that denying the exploration of self in the pursuit of Jesus is actually selfish!
But if the recesses of our hearts are mysterious and hidden, how do we explore them?
Signs of the Times
We do so by engaging in an adventure we call Heartview using our Eight Indicators.
Heartview is the ongoing exploration and identification of our hearts’ hidden ideas and desires. We do this by becoming aware of and engaging with our Eight Indicators with God and a trusted friend.
Our Eight Indicators are our thought patterns, emotions, behaviors, relationships, health, words, and how we steward time and money. By becoming aware of and engaging with these indicators, we begin the process of uncovering the hidden ideas in the unconscious parts of our persons.
The Bible contains various explanations of why and how we examine these indicators (Prov 23:6-8, Ps 139:23-24, Matt 12:33-37, etc.), though we don’t often compile them into a holistic view of the human person.
If we stop and review our thought patterns about ourselves and others, what do we find? Do we berate ourselves? Do we condemn others? What do our thought patterns tell us about the true condition of the hidden areas of our hearts? Why do we struggle with our thought patterns?
Though we often function from the idea that our bodies are disconnected from our hearts and minds, we are integrated people living in an integrated world. What might our physical, mental, and emotional health be telling us about the hidden ideas in our hearts? Are our bodies communicating something about the wounds, hurts, and harms found in our stories?
How do we relate to ourselves, others, and God? Are we persistent people-pleasers? Are we conflict-avoiders? Do we relate to God as a loving, gentle father or a harsh taskmaster? How might our relationships point down to these deep, experienced realities we call ideas?
This gentle, kind, ongoing evaluation of our indicators (and those around us) requires a courageous curiosity rarely taught or discussed in modern contexts. And, to be blunt, many of us don’t want to take the journey. We are afraid of what we might find.
We might discover that our incessant people-pleasing stems from a less-than-ideal childhood. Our constant fatigue, lethargy, and muscle aches may be our body’s cry for relational attachments and security that have been elusive. Our money hoarding may be a way we compensate for an emotionally unavailable spouse.
The heart is always speaking, though are we consistently listening?
Deep discipleship embraces a raw, authentic, guttural nature that invites us to engage our histories, relationships, and soul layers beneath our veneers. However, we (often unconsciously) cover up or numb our ongoing disconnections with work, hobbies, and even good Christian activities.
I realize that considering our health, relational attachments, thought patterns, emotions, etc., is not the norm in many discipleship programs and strategies. However, becoming like Someone else is a comprehensive, holistic journey that requires deep introspection, at least if we desire to be formed from the inside out. That’s why Dallas Willard once remarked that genuine discipleship looks a lot like AA.
Why Bother?
Back in June, I wrote a post called “The Wall,” which pulled some material from Janet Hagberg and Robert Guelich’s book The Critical Journey. They theorized that Christian spiritual formation can be described in six stages, though most modern Christian institutions only help instruct us through the first three.
One of the drivers of The Great Omission is the lack of guidance in and through the last three (the Journey Inward, the Journey Outward, and the Life of Love). If we don’t know about or feel we have permission to engage the deeper, more complex aspects of the Christian journey, we won’t know what we’re missing.
What are we missing? Why should we bother paying attention to our hearts’ signposts, growing to attune to God and others, and going through the often uncomfortable process of meeting Jesus in our backstories? Why engage these indicators that reveal our hearts’ deepest layers? Why come together to solve The Discipleship Dilemma?
After all, some of the descriptions of someone who is a “deep disciple” or in Stage 6 (a Life of Love) sound too good to be true.
Hagerb and Guelich write:
“At this stage (a Life of Love) we reflect God to others in the world more clearly and consistently than we ever thought possible… We have lost ourselves in the equation, and at the same time we have truly found ourselves. We are selfless. This factor allows us to do the most extraordinary things… We are at peace with ourselves, fully conscious of being the person God created us to be. Obedience comes very naturally without deliberation because we are so immersed in God’s work.”
I’m not sure this is the vision many have of the Christian life. As Trevor Hudson remarks:
“We really need to grasp this (vision) because we have a tragic tendency to regard only those who are outside the Christian faith as seekers. We then assume that once someone gives their life to Christ, their seeking comes to an end. It is exactly the opposite. That is when the quest really begins. Christianity is essentially a seeking faith.”
Depending on our backgrounds, imagining a life so fully attuned to God, others, and ourselves may be difficult. For many, the journey seems to involve getting “saved,” trying not to sin, and dying one day so we can start the “real” eternal life. Our time between our salvation and death seems like some sort of disconnected parenthetical statement.
But what might that look like if eternal life starts the moment we accept Jesus’ invitation into the reality of His current kingdom?
What if divorce seemed like an utterly silly idea? What if husband and wife were living lives focused on listening carefully to the heart of God, each other, and themselves, so that the inevitable hardships and suffering only drove them to be formed more like Jesus and each other? What if self-giving love for each other was as natural as breathing?
What if the allure of pornography held no allure? What if the thought of objectifying another image bearer had no appeal because our hearts are attuned to the idea that every human being is a marvelous, utterly unique work of a divine artist? To objectify such a gift would be nonsense.
What if we didn’t always have to be right? What if we loved our enemies? What if we listened more than we talked and were at perfect peace, not having to be noticed, recognized, or regarded?
The world would be a much different place if everyone who claimed to be a disciple was intentionally engaged in the adventure of becoming more and more like Jesus.
But that, of course, is the point.
God continues to grow His kingdom and move in our midst. My critique of modern Christianity does not mean that the Holy Spirit is somehow disengaged or that the kingdom isn’t increasingly coming. But a shallow Christianity that promotes knowledge accumulation over character formation, treats eternal life as a future concept with little relevance today, and rejects gentle self-introspection as a means of becoming more like Jesus will struggle to guide individuals into the wonder and depths of a God-infused life. And that results in cultures and societies that remain steeped in hurt and harm.
If modern Christianity embraces a full-orbed, holistic, character-transforming journey together, if we come together to explore the latter three stages of our formation, I wonder just how quickly the first request of the Lord’s Prayer will come to pass.
We can start by following the signs.
Duc In Altum!
Brian
