Ep 52: You Can Check Out Any Time You Like…

As we wrap up our exploration of intimacy as the fourth key element of formation, let’s take a look at a few of the ideas of what a mature, intimate disciple might look like: the OP Christian, the Accurate Christian, and the Placid Christian.

Is our unconscious idea of a vulnerable, wisely formed person healthy and helpful, or are we trapped in an idea that may lead us down a harmful road?

TRANSCRIPTION

Intimacy in Discipleship

Season 3 has been all about the Five Key Elements of Formation.  If any human being is to be formed, to be grown, to be transformed, those experiences almost always involve five things: time, habit, community, intimacy, and instruction.

We’ve looked at some common formations, such as early childhood, marriage, college, the military, and sports teams.  There are dozens more examples of intentionally formative experiences.

These types of communities may be formed for good or evil.  The five elements are effective in either case.

Cults are intentionally formative communities designed for evil, while community healing programs such as Celebrate Recovery are intended for good.  Same five elements, different objectives.

And although we in the west are very accustomed to the five elements and unconsciously assume them in most circumstances, the one place we tend to bristle at them is in the most important formative journey of our lives – our discipleship.

We usually don’t have a problem embracing the five elements when raising our infants, going to college, or training for the Ironman, but we typically balk when considering the cost and energy of our spiritual formation.

The Gap

As we outlined back in Episode 11, our discipleship isn’t generally characterized by these five elements.  We tend to live in a Gap – the Formation Gap.  And we struggle to experience the depth, the wholeness, the joy, the peace of the Christian life that’s so often promised in Scripture.

The Bible seems to point to a richness of life that remains elusive, maybe even imaginary.

We remain disconnected.  Disconnected from God, from ourselves, from creation.  Instead of the integrated, complete lives the Bible alludes to, our lives tend to be disintegrated.

This is why some men long for their high school days – they were part of something, maybe their football team or their close group of friends.  Or why many vets long for the days when they were part of a “band of brothers.”

I remember experiencing a profound sense of loss the first few years after college.  I went from a five-element community of close friends who lived together to a segmented, fragmented corporate life. The loss of the depth of relationships was palpable.

We cover up and numb this bedrock disconnectedness in all sorts of ways: chaotic life schedules, overworking, various addictive habits, engaging every activity at church, and living vicariously through our kids.

Or maybe our hearts just disengage, and we lose ourselves in gossipy friends, or our smartphones, or sports, or binge-watching streaming services.

Yet we long for the types of communities we see on sitcoms.  Small groups of deeply connected people who battle through life together.  They laugh, they cry, they suffer, but they never question the solidarity and connectedness of their group.

Elusive Intimacy

We’ve been digging into the fourth key element of formation, intimacy, and for many of us, it remains elusive.

We’ve defined intimacy as “A close, familiar, and usually affectionate and loving personal relationship with another person or group.  With a detailed knowledge or deep understanding. The quality of being comfortable, warm, familiar.”

We have more ways to connect today than ever before through technology, and yet we’re lonelier than ever.  And many of us don’t even know we’re lonely.  It’s just the air we breathe.

Unveiling our hearts, digging into our stories, confessing our wrongs, and even developing the habit of listening carefully to others’ hearts takes a lot of work.  It’s risky.  We get our hands and hearts dirty.

And we’ve realized that very often, the bedrock ideas and desires that really govern us are different than the theological beliefs we profess.

We say we trust God’s sovereignty and the authority of Jesus, but we routinely attempt to control events, resources, and let’s face it – each other.

If you listen to Episode 51 again, you’ll rarely hear a more vulnerable, honest, intimate confession than what Kyle shared about his experience of charting out his theological beliefs, and then charting out his heart’s reality.

Kyle is now on a much clearer journey of becoming more like Jesus – because He’s courageously exploring the bedrock ideas and desires in his heart.  He’s doing the hard work of discipleship in his community – in his Greenhouse.

We’re finishing up our look at intimacy, at least in this season.  As I’ve worked through these past few episodes, I’ve found myself wondering what the end game is here.

Being Awake

What does a mature, vulnerable, attuned disciple really look like? Who is the person who has a deeply intimate relationship with God, with herself, with a close group of friends, and a deep sense of God’s revelation in creation?

A friend of mine describes this type of person as being “awake.”  Not “woke” but “awake.”  We might say they’re “attuned.”  They naturally practice one of the habits we talked about this season called “heart listening.”

Someone who lives a life of intimacy is attuned to the heart of Jesus, the hearts of others, and to their own hearts.  Someone who seems to live life at the bedrock of their soil– who is courageously curious about exploring the desires and ideas of Jesus, their own ideas and desires, and the ideas and desires of others.

This is one of the things that continues to mystify me about Jesus.  This is how He lived on earth – in a perfect, united, intimate relationship with His Father and His Father’s desires and ideas.  And He was deeply attuned to the bedrock ideas in the hearts of those around Him.

He was far more aware of His disciples’ hearts than they were! He understood the governing ideas and desires of everyone he met and was routinely inviting people to… wake up!  To live from the bedrock of their hearts rather than from superficial religious beliefs.  Wasn’t this his primary beef with the Pharisees?

So, what does a mature, attuned, awake disciple look like?

As I researched this topic, I stumbled on a few commonly accepted “ideas” of what we think this should look like, so let’s talk about them.

In modern Christianity, our idea of a mature disciple often looks like one of three people: the OP Christian, the Accurate Christian, or the Placid Christian. Let’s take them in order.

The OP Christian

If you don’t know what the term “OP” means, it stands for “overpowered.”  It’s a term derived from video gaming and pop culture, referring to a character who is unfairly strong, fast, or otherwise magically gifted.  Everybody wants to be the OP character because they supposedly have a built-in advantage.

In certain segments of Christianity, an OP Christian is someone who is more “powerful” than other Christians, and this tends to mean they appear to function in the supernatural realm more than others.  In other words, they practice certain supernatural gifts of the Holy Spirit.

DMM’s

If you’re not already familiar with it, there’s a relatively new type of movement referred to as Disciple-Making Movements, or DMMs.  The term “Disciple-Making Movement” is generally applied to an effort that has resulted in at least 100 church plants with at least four generations of Christians.

By “church” we mean any size group of people who meet together, so these may be house churches or groups meeting at work.  A “generation” of Christians means that one person has led another person to the Lord.  So, four generations mean that one person led someone to the Lord, and that person led another to the Lord, and then it happened again.  These DMMs obviously have a strong evangelistic tone to them, and also emphasize the role of the layperson.

Whereas in the west, we tend to leave “ministry work” to the professionals such as pastors and theologians, Disciple Making Movements focus on equipping the common man and woman to go make other disciples.

For example, if we in the West want someone to hear about Jesus, we may invite them to church instead of simply discipling them ourselves. This is one of the reasons so many Christmas and Easter services have such strong evangelistic messages. Our job is to get them into a church; the pastor’s job is to convert them.

Anyhow, according to the book, The Kingdom Unleashed, many of the hundreds of Disciple Making Movements in the Global South are characterized by supernatural miracles and signs.

“Christians in the Global North frequently gloss over the idea of the Spirit bearing witness to Christ.  This is due to the assumption that Jesus meant simply that the Spirit would work through and empower our witness.  That is certainly true, yet the context of John 16 suggests something more: that the Spirit would actively bear witness to Himself to the truth of the Gospel.  And we see that happening in the miracles performed through the Apostles in Acts.

We also see this in the Global South.  It is impossible for any researcher to visit all 500 movements today, yet every catalyst of Kingdom movements that we know strongly affirms that the miraculous is abundantly obvious in a high percentage of new churches being birthed – including raising the dead.” [1]

Healings, deliverance from demons, words of knowledge, resurrections – these types of signs and wonders appear to be common in certain parts of the world, even today.

Now, many folks in the West are “cessationists” – they believe the gifts of the Spirit no longer exist, either in part or in whole. They have ceased.  That things like healings, speaking in different tongues, and certain miracles were only for the birth of the church and have since died out.

Others are “continualist” – they believe the supernatural gifts of the Spirit continue today. They argue there’s no compelling Biblical evidence that the gifts just stopped in the first century, and that the Holy Spirit continues to supernaturally appear when He wants to.

In the West, this argument tends to divide charismatic from liturgical churches.  Liturgical groups tend to accuse charismatics of being overly emotional, experiential, and not particularly shrewd in theology. And the charismatics tend to accuse the liturgical churches of being stuffy, stoic, and neglecting the power and presence of the Holy Spirit.  Let the debate rage on.

For my part, I spent time in charismatic churches when I was younger and found the experience pretty positive. And I’ve yet to read any really compelling argument that the Holy Spirit no longer works through signs and wonders.  Seems to me that if the Spirit wants to heal, deliver, and raise people from the dead today, we should celebrate that.

My concern is the somewhat Western idea that a person’s “ability” to heal, deliver, or perform miracles must be correlated with their spiritual maturity.  That we develop the ability to perform miracles (or become an “OP” Christian), as we draw closer to God.

So… performing signs and wonders is a sure sign that we’ve become deeply mature disciples.  If we aren’t performing signs and wonders, we must not be very close to God.

I’ll admit exploring this idea has taken me to some unexpected places.  I’ve reached out to a few folks stateside engaged in Disciple Making Movements, and some of these western efforts do feature “healing and deliverance” ministries. I’ve watched some of their videos, read a few of their articles and books, and tried to get my arms around it.

Leveling Up

One gentleman on the East Coast, involved in planting discipling groups, very kindly sent me about 8 hours of his training videos, in which he explores healing and deliverance in great detail.

According to his own story, he was your average Christian until he started digging deeper into the Word.  At one point, he was in the Bible 23 hours a day.  He set aside one hour a day for business meetings, but the rest of the time he devoted to Scripture study and meditation.  At night, he would play the Bible on tape softly as he slept.

And he discovered that his “healing ratio” increased.  Like many of us, when he started out, he would pray for people’s healing, and not much would happen.  Then about 10% of the people he prayed for were healed. By the time he finished his Bible journey, he was healing over 80% of the people he prayed for.

And he engaged in what’s been called “deep repentance.”  Though definitions differ, he spent considerable time praying and asking the Holy Spirit to reveal sins he’d committed over the years, attempting to uncover as many as possible. In effect, he was attempting to confess to anything wrong he’d ever done.

Then he found himself instantly able to forgive long-term enemies, was freed from anger, and no longer suffered anxiety about things that might concern some of us.   And the Spirit performed more miracles, deliverances, and signs through him.

His underlying idea is clear – his ability to perform miracles is directly related to the depth of intimacy in his relationship with Jesus.

As much as I believe the Spirit can work miracles today, I confess I tend to look on these types of ministries and claims with some skepticism.  Maybe I’ve seen too many videos of tele-evangelists on TV, knocking people over during highly emotional, somewhat goofy worship services.

When I read about healings in the New Testament, there’s a rather poignant lack of theatrics.

Peter and John are walking up to the temple in Jerusalem in Acts 3 and come across a lame man begging for alms.  Peter just walks over to him and heals him. No drama, no music, no big production.

When the people around him act surprised, Peter makes an interesting statement, “Men of Israel, why are you amazed at this, or why do you gaze at us, as if by our own power or piety we had made him walk?” [2]

Peter specifically disconnects his own spiritual maturity from the act of divine healing.

One commentary notes, “Rabbinic tradition spoke of individuals of such exceptional piety that God was obligated to grant their prayers, but Peter and John hastened to deflect attention from themselves and to insist that Jesus, the suffering and vindicated Servant of the Lord, was the agent of this healing, because of His resurrection power.”[3]

In Matthew 10, Jesus sends out his disciples and empowers them to do various signs and wonders.  I’m not sure his disciples had a deep and intimate understanding of Jesus at that point. They were still doubting Him at His ascension.

Look, my trusting side wants to believe in modern-day healings and miracles here in the West, and I want to believe those who claim to perform them.

But my skeptical side wonders why, if these folks are out there, we don’t see cancer wards being emptied?  Why aren’t these “OP Christians” on the 6 o’clock news? If someone in my neighborhood was healing people and word got out, wouldn’t there be scores of people lined up outside of their house, waiting to be healed?

Is the Christian life about “leveling up” to the point where, at some higher stage, we’re granted the ability to perform signs and wonders?  And if we don’t perform miracles, does that mean we don’t have an intimate relationship with God?

The Accurate Christian

Then there’s the idea that the mature, intimate disciple is the one with the most accurate and deepest theological knowledge.

There’s no question we’re to study our Bibles, meditate and marinate on Scripture, and grow in our understanding of God, His grand narrative, and even how He’s woven His characteristics into creation.

But does theological knowledge always lead to hearts that are attuned?  Does knowing more about God and Christianity always result in a more intimate relationship with Him? Does right doctrine inevitably lead to better character?

We live in an age that deeply values intelligence. Extraordinarily smart men and women are praised, promoted, and sought after in most areas of culture.  We see this in corporate America all the time.  The CEO’s on TV aren’t there because of their character – they’re on TV because of their intelligence, their insight, their business savvy.

The same fascination is true in the Christian community.  If you’re a Christian, chances are you “follow” one or more Christian leaders.  Maybe it’s your pastor, or a celebrity theologian, or a leader of a great, international Christian effort.

It’s all good.  I have my favorite authors, theologians, and cultural commentators.  And I deeply value the efforts of someone who thoughtfully and thoroughly explores the Bible.

But does that mean these highly intelligent, informed Christians have the character of someone formed into the likeness of Jesus?

The answer is…not always.

We can go to Scripture and read about the Apostle Paul who, prior to his divine detour on the road to Damascus, was an extraordinarily smart, highly educated, articulate theologian who imprisoned and killed Christians.

Many of the religious elite in Jesus’ day were deeply informed, very smart religious leaders, who were men of awful character.

In our modern era, we unfortunately have too many instances of well-known, deeply intelligent Bible scholars and teachers who end up revealing things about themselves that don’t align with the doctrine they teach. Then they become a story on the Roys Report.  That’s a website run by a Christian investigative journalist.  Just click on the Investigations tab on her site, and you’ll probably find some familiar names.

But let’s be fair.  We all have character flaws, and we all make mistakes. And many, many very bright Christian scholars are also wonderfully loving and faithful people.  No question.

It’s just worth noting one passage in John that I find haunting when it comes to our modern fascination with idolizing Biblical intelligence in the Christian community.  In Chapter 5, Jesus is addressing Jewish leaders who were planning on killing Him, and He’s listing several witnesses to Himself as the Son of God, and that includes Scripture.

He says, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about Me; and you are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life.”[4]

Plus, if we were to line up just two of our favorite, intelligent scholars and ask them to share their Biblically informed views on baptism, communion, gifts of the Spirit, the role of the Church, the Bible’s definition of justice, chances are we’d hear two very different views on each of those topics.

You’ve probably heard of the Christian satire site, the Babylon Bee.  I came across a post of theirs entitled, “Congratulations! Study Finds You Chose The Only 100% Correct Branch Of Christianity!”

 “Good news, Christian! A new study shows that you have chosen the one and only completely correct branch of the Christian faith! You are one of the very few correct ones, everyone who disagrees with you is pathetically wrong, and you are one of God’s preferred children.

‘You truly are on the winning side here,’ said Dr. H.E. Pennypacker, who oversaw the study that confirmed your victory. ‘Though other believers have differing views on the nature of God, baptism, eschatology, and the place of the Mosaic Law in the Christian faith — and many of them have compelling evidence from the Bible to back up their beliefs — you are the one who is totally 100% correct! Well done!”[5]

Maybe the best thing for us to do is to read and listen to various intelligent scholars, even a few we don’t agree with, and then tear into Scripture ourselves.  Even better, dive into Scripture with some friends, maybe in a Greenhouse.

The Placid Christian

Then there is a very popular idea: a mature disciple who has an intimate relationship with God and is attuned to their own heart and the hearts of others is a placid Christian.

Placid means “not easily upset or excited,” or “even-tempered,” “calm,” “tranquil.”

This idea of a well-formed disciple is promoted and embraced by some of my all-time favorite Christian authors. It’s widely assumed this is the persona of a deeply committed Christian.

If we’re betrayed?  We walk away in peace, trusting that God’s sovereign plan is at work. A friend consistently mistreats us or someone else? No big deal. We rejoice that we get to suffer.

Back during COVID, someone sent me an article from a pastor who publicly scorned Christian parents who showed up at school board meetings concerned about mandatory vaccines and protocols for kids.  The pastor called out these parents for not placidly obeying their government. As Christians, we’re to do what our authority tells us to do, and protesting is unloving and a bad witness.

I’m not so sure what Daniel or John the Baptist or Peter or John would have to say about that, all of whom blatantly disobeyed their governmental authorities.

But the principle was clear – Christians are to calmly walk about life, take what’s given to them, smile, and remain largely unemotional, especially if those emotions include anger.

Here’s my problem.  It’s difficult to universally apply the term “placid” to Jesus.

Jesus got annoyed, even with His friends.  At times, He got red-hot angry.  He could be unbelievably kind and compassionate, and He could be viscerally incisive and blunt.  Sometimes He was direct, sometimes He was coy.  Often, He engaged with people; at other times, He walked away in frustration.  Several times, people wanted to harm and kill Him, and He didn’t just permit it, until it was on His terms.

I’m not really sure we can paint Jesus as someone who calmly went about His life, never got riled or irritated, and just took whatever people gave Him.

He seemed to purposefully tick off the puppet religious leaders of His day.  I suppose calling someone a brood of vipers might have that effect.

Based on what we’re told, was Jesus, on the whole, calm and even-tempered?  Seems that way.  But was He free to express strong emotions, call out evil people for who they were, and get annoyed at people who didn’t understand his message?  Apparently so.

So is our idea, our vision, of a uniformly placid Christian different than who Jesus really is?

…But Can We Ever Leave?

As we close out our exploration of Intimacy as a key element in our formation, we should try to catch a vision of what a mature, vulnerable disciple looks like.  And, obviously, the best picture is Jesus Himself.

Did He perform signs and wonders?  Of course.  Should that be an expectation for us as we grow to be more like Him?  I’m still mulling this over, but supernatural events seem to be more about what the Spirit wants to do than where we are in our journey. We may become very attuned to the heart of Jesus and to the hearts of others and not experience supernatural events, and I think that’s okay. Seems like the Spirit uses whom He wishes in a myriad of ways.

Did Jesus know His Scripture?  I think it’s safe to say He did.  We could argue that He has a distinct advantage over us, since He is the author of creation and the Word of God.

For the rest of us, should we automatically assume that a highly intelligent scholar or teacher is also a person whose character is being formed to be more like Jesus?  The answer is…we shouldn’t always make that assumption.

The right doctrine is great.  Apologetics is wonderful.  Biblical orthodoxy is vital.  But even those may or may not point to the actual condition of the human heart.

Should we be striving to be a placid Christian?  Should we expect to be increasingly calm and tranquil, no matter what life throws at us?  Well, certainly, we hope to become more self-controlled, but is that the same as placid?

I’m going to marinate on this one some more.

It seems to me that, as we grow in our intimacy with Christ and others, we experience a greater freedom to be…well…human.   We may well find ourselves getting angrier about injustice than we did before.  We may find ourselves grieving more deeply and grieving with others more deeply. We may find ourselves getting annoyed, not because of slights against us per se, but because we want others to experience the fullness of God’s goodness, and seeing them struggle because of their own actions is…well…irritating!

When we’re betrayed, we don’t pass it off with a shrug.  We acknowledge and experience the pain and sorrow and realize we’re sharing in the sufferings of Christ, who was also betrayed.  And those sufferings hurt like hell.  And by allowing ourselves to journey through the hurt, we eventually become more loving, compassionate, and sensitive to those around us experiencing the same hurts.

What does an intimate, mature disciple look like?  Someone who loves openly, expresses freely, grieves deeply, rails against injustice, protects the weak, calls out abuses of power, rushes to the wounded, confronts evil, cries with those in mourning, laughs and celebrates with abandon, wonders at creation, listens carefully, and suffers in community.

An intimate, mature disciple looks a lot like Jesus.

[1] Trousdale J. & Sunshine G. The Kingdom Unleashed. (p. 226). DMM Library.

[2] New American Standard Bible: 1995 update (Ac 3:12). (1995). The Lockman Foundation.

[3] Sproul, R. C., ed. (2015). The Reformation Study Bible: English Standard Version (2015 Edition) (p. 1917). Reformation Trust.

[4] New American Standard Bible: 1995 update (Jn 5:39–40). (1995). The Lockman Foundation.

[5] https://babylonbee.com/news/congratulations-study-finds-you-chose-the-only-100-correct-branch-of-christianity?utm_source=The%20Babylon%20Bee%20Newsletter&utm_medium=email