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Imitators of Christ
Imitators of Christ Entries in Imitators of Christ (4)
Making a Way for Others
Thursday, August 30, 2012 at 09:34AM 
Jesus is full of surprises: How can the ruler of the world become an example of obedience? How can the object of worship himself become an example of how to worship with heart, soul, mind and strength? How can the perfect Son of God call others to follow him, and then demonstrate the way to follow? It’s part of his genius, his glory, his nature. What’s more, he not only showed us how it’s done, he empowered us to do the same. Real discipling is about making a way for others to approach the Father. If we’re only talking about Jesus, most of us are comfortable with this paradox, but most amazingly--he calls us to do the same.
The gospel record demonstrates Jesus lived a life of obedience to the Father and called us into the same obedience. But Jesus did not leave us to struggle with obedience alone. Jesus, the Master Teacher, was also the Master Equipper:
“I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear. But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come. He will bring glory to me by taking from what is mine and making it known to you. All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will take from what is mine and make it known to you.” (John 16: 12 - 15)
As his followers, we are called to make disciples as well, teaching others to obey everything he commanded.
There are two great problems as we attempt to live up to this commission today: First, many of us see discipleship only in terms of following Jesus, and almost never in terms of leading others. Second, if we try to lead others, we run the risk of demanding of other people obedience to Jesus without actually equipping them to obey him. Both these challenges are critical to our personal development as students of Jesus. Our personal spiritual growth depends on coming to terms with these challenges, and the destiny of others depends on our response as well.
Leading others: How many of us receive the call to discipleship as a personal call from God to become a leader? We may come to him because we need a Savior, but if we choose to become a follower of Jesus we must also realize we are also choosing the responsibility to lead others. This is what it means to follow him: we act on his behalf in the lives of others. It’s more than “sharing our faith.” It’s taking responsibility for other people’s lives until they are mature followers of Jesus. He showed us--in very practical ways--exactly how it works.
Equipping others: Jesus gave his disciples the tools necessary to live a healthy life with God. He did more than demand; he did more than point the way; he empowered his followers. He pointed to issues of the heart (as in Matthew 5); he included his students as partners in ministry, giving them hands-on experience (as in Matthew 10); and, as the passage from John 16 indicates, he introduced them to the Holy Spirit, effectively opening the resources of heaven to each of his disciples. What about us? As disciple makers, do we interact with those God has given us in the same way? Do we teach about heart-matters? Do we release our students into ministry? Do we introduce them to the Holy Spirit?
First things first: we cannot equip others until we believe we are called to lead others. It will not do to claim, “I have no one to lead.” Jesus is our model: he came in obedience to the Father and simultaneously became a leader of others. We must do the same, and God has provided venues for our leadership: in our homes, among our friends, at work or school, or in our community. We were called to change the world by allowing God to change us and by becoming God’s agents of change where he leads us.
Who knew discipleship would require everything we have? I suspect the Master did.
Follow the Loser
Thursday, August 11, 2011 at 11:19AM 
The class held about thirty students. A class that size guarantees a mix of sleepers, zombies, texters and those rare few who participate in discussion. We spent the whole hour talking about the words of Jesus, “Be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” Is is possible? Can we really become like God? Was Jesus serious?
One student seemed to pay particular attention but hadn’t spoken up once during the period. I decided to draw her into the discussion: “We’re just about done for today. Tiffanie, you’ve been listening hard but haven’t offered your opinion. Why don’t you have the last word?”
She shifted in her seat uncomfortably and said, “I don’t know if He was serious, but one thing’s for sure: you ain’t Jesus.”
She got that right.
Yet somehow Jesus asks us to lift our vision higher--high enough to see the possibilities of becoming like our Heavenly Father. That’s a problem: how are we to become like him? The problem grows deeper when we discover that he has ordained the use of imperfect and frail human beings to shape others into the image of Christ.
Most believers quickly jump to the defense of their own shortcomings with the excuse, “I’m not Jesus.” Of course not. Who could be? So deeply do we hold the conviction that we cannot measure up, it also becomes our handy defense to keep other believers at arms length--far enough away to prevent them from effectively shaping us into the image of Jesus.
We welcome the idea that--someday--we will be conformed to the image of Christ. We‘re a little fuzzier on how, exactly, that happens. The answer is both obvious and surprising: the Father uses other people to fashion us into the pattern of Christ.
For many Christians, this is a frightening prospect. This conversation could happen at nearly any church between an earnest disciple and a pastor:
“You're trying to change me!” complains the disciple.
“You don't think you need to change?” asks the pastor.
“Well, yes, but not by you!”
In other words, we acknowledge our need of Christlikeness but feel no one is qualified to help effect the change.
How does our perfect Lord expect imperfect people to shape others into his image? The hyper-spiritual answer is usually, “No one can do that: He has to do it, by his Spirit.” Such an answer sounds spiritual, but ignores that God has chosen to much of his work through other people.
“Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ.”
The Apostle Paul had little trouble offering himself as an example of the path to spiritual transformation. Was he proud, or practical? His words appear at the end of a long theological discussion about whether the Christians of that day should eat meet offered to pagan idols (1 Corinthians 10 & 11). The real issue was whether these believers would judge one another over the choices they made. Sound familiar? Finally, after looking at all sides of the question, Paul got practical: “Look, just do what I do.” He could offer himself as an example not because he was so smart, but because he could demonstrate how to live in peace among Christians of differing opinion. The unspoken message is that Christlikeness is not a matter of opinion, but of how we live out our life with one another. Having examples helps: not amount of theology can replace the need for a living example.
Paul had no trouble suggesting that Timothy should follow his example: “You, however, know all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose . . . But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it” (2 Timothy 3: 10 & 14) And this is from Paul, who earlier described himself to Timothy as “the foremost of sinners!”
What about us? Do we have someone to imitate? Before we jump in with the spiritual answer, I imitate Jesus, perhaps we should consider if Jesus himself has not given us someone a little closer to home as an intermediate step. Who can I imitate? It worked for Timothy, and it worked for Paul.
I can almost hear the voice of that girl from my classroom: “One thing’s for sure: you ain’t Paul, either!”
Monday's Meditation: The Parable of the Brilliant Baby
Monday, March 28, 2011 at 11:06AM 
Once there was a baby both brilliant and proud. He was brilliant because he grasped human language at just three weeks of age. Indeed, he could talk at six weeks. But he didn’t talk, because he was proud.
“Why should I use the same language everyone else uses?” he thought. “That’s just imitating what others do.”
So instead of speaking his mother-tongue he made up his own language. At first everyone thought the infant was simply babbling like all babies do. The baby boy spoke clearly and directly in a way that made perfect sense to him: “Mother, I’m hungry,” he would say, but she did not understand his words. Because she loved her child she was acutely aware of his needs and managed to understand his hunger without understanding his language. “The fools,” thought Baby Brilliant. “Anyone can speak their language, but I have invented my own. I refuse to imitate their common speech.” Indeed, he also rejected the facial expressions common his culture. He knew that smiles meant happiness, but when he was happy he would squeeze his eyes shut and puff out his cheeks. When he was angry he would not frown, but instead hold his ears and breath. He had invented new expressions, but no one knew what he was feeling.
At a time when other children were learning their first words and beginning to communicate with words like “Momma” and “Dadda,” he was ready to discourse on the meaning of life. Of course, he had no one to talk to but it did not matter--his great intellect was company enough. He despised other babies and the parents who insisted they imitate the ways of society. Imitation was for sheep, brilliance demanded a new language, new thoughts, new ways. So great was his pride that he refused to communicate with others or imitate their language.
Eventually, at a time when other babies grew into children and toddled off to school (to imitate their elders even more) the Brilliant Baby was packed off to an institution for children “non-responsive to their surroundings.”
There, at the institution, the night nurse fell asleep while reading at her desk, but not before underlining these words by the author: "A man can no more possess a private religion than he can possess a private sun and moon."
What meaning do you assign to this story? I’d love to know.
Monday's Meditation: Three Transformations
Monday, March 15, 2010 at 11:31AM Becoming a follower of Jesus requires at least three transformations: we must be born from above; we must acquire his character; and we must imitate his works. Most believers North America have a grasp on the first, a hope of the second, and almost no concept of the third.
What does it mean to do the works of Jesus? How we answer the question reveals our understanding of what it means to live “in Christ.” Jesus had a high view of his followers. He believed in them more than they believed in themselves. He gave them extravagant assignments during their three years together on earth. And as Jesus prepared to leave, he charged his disciples with the impossible.
“I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Son may bring glory to the Father. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” (John 14: 12-14)The first disciples were up to the task: they found themselves so transformed by the new birth that they were, in fact, a new creation. Heaven’s DNA had altered their very being. As a result they demonstrated the character of Christ to a degree not possible by their own good intentions or human effort.
The first disciples were up to the task: the record of the Book of Acts is that the first followers of Jesus were startlingly like Jesus, in thought, word and deed. The history of the early church is filled with descriptions of ordinary people who declared the message of the Kingdom of God--as Jesus had done--and demonstrated the coming of that Kingdom with powerful actions--as Jesus had done.
The first disciples were up to the task. In the intervening centuries the people of God have sometimes lived up to the charge left by our Lord, and sometimes have changed the task into something attainable by human effort. I believe every generation should wrestle with the challenge Jesus left us. The first disciples were up to the task. The obvious question is whether we are up to the task as well. That’s something to consider on a Monday, and for the rest of our lives.