John 8:31-41 · The Children of Abraham
Being a True Disciple
John 8:31-36
Sermon
by David G. Rogne
Loading...

I attended a church recently where the pastor was lamenting the fact that the Christian church has many members who are fans of Jesus but too few who are committed disciples. He described a fan as an enthusiastic admirer who wants to be close enough to Jesus to get all the benefits but not so close that it requires sacrifice. Fans may feel fine about repeating a prayer, attending church on the weekend, and slapping a fish emblem on their bumpers. Jesus, the pastor said, is not interested in recruiting admirers; he is seeking disciples.

Most people who call themselves Christian would probably say that they are disciples of Christ. It becomes more complicated when we try to define what we mean by "disciple." The words of Jesus found in the portion of the gospel of John that we read earlier tells of an incident in the life of Jesus that helps us to understand what a disciple is. In this situation, some Jewish people had been listening to Jesus for a while and they had become believers. We are not told what they believed, but Jesus seems to accept the fact that they were believers.

From that incident, the first thing we can say is that discipleship begins with belief. For many people, unfortunately, that is not only the first step in Christian development, it is the only step. It reduces Christianity to the lowest common denominator. To their defense such people call on the great reformer, Martin Luther, who discovered and taught that we are saved by faith. Indeed, before him the apostle Paul indicated that we are saved by God's grace through faith and not from anything we can do to earn it (Ephesians 2:8).

A few years ago an evangelistic organization announced their plan to proclaim the gospel to every person in the world who had a telephone listing. Christians everywhere were recruited and urged to take responsibility for several pages of the local telephone directory, calling the people who appeared on those pages and telling them about Jesus Christ. Somewhere along the way the idea just kind of ran out of steam. Another group of people found a passage in the Bible indicating that Jesus would return only when every person in the world had heard the gospel. They recruited people to recite to every person they met John 3:16: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life." You can still occasionally see a person seated behind the goalposts at a football game holding up a placard saying "John 3:16." Maybe it does some good.

Some people may be able to say they have found God by simply saying "I believe." They may be Christians, but they are neophytes. An infant is a human being with great potential, but the infant has a long way to go before he or she will be a mature person. If there is no further growth in such a child, we speak sadly of arrested development. It is the same with regard to believers. There is a maxim that says "well begun is half done." Saying "I believe" is a good beginning, but we need to remember that the task is only half done.

In the days when men went to sea in wooden ships, experienced sailors were much in demand. Shipping companies would pay a premium for those who had sailed around Cape Horn. Recruiters, anxious to fill their quota, would ask a young applicant if he had ever been around the Horn. If the applicant said "no," the recruiter would take him into a backroom and place the horn of a steer on the floor. The agent would then tell the man to walk slowly around the horn. When that was accomplished, the recruiter would tell the young man that he qualified for the job. If anyone asked him if he'd been around the Horn, he was to say "yes." It was a shortcut, but really there is no shortcut that will give a seaman the skills he needs to be a competent sailor. Neither is there an easy way to make a neophyte Christian into a mature disciple.

The second thing we learn from this scripture is that discipleship calls for action. Apparently those new Jewish believers were not growing in the faith. We are not told all that transpired between them and Jesus, but Jesus addressed them and called for a deeper relationship. He said, in effect, "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples." He was saying that his disciples need to abide in or live in what he was saying. Becoming a disciple is an ongoing process. Each believer needs to grow. The newfound faith needs to deepen. A disciple is a learner. A Christian disciple seeks to learn from Jesus.

To say "I believe in God" is a beginning, but it is only a beginning. To say "I've been born again" means that one is a spiritual infant who needs to think about what it means to follow Christ. Some years ago the Christian Century magazine ran a series of articles titled "How My Mind Has Changed." Various theologians were invited to write articles about how their minds had changed over the years. A number of people didn't like the idea. They felt that theology meant the truth about God. To admit a change of mind had to mean a loss or even a denial of truth. For religious thinkers to change their positions would undermine the faith of believers. Even the Catholic church, during the Second Vatican Council, recognized development and revision of doctrine during its meetings. When the Council finally ended its meetings, one Catholic woman was heard to say, "Thank God that Vatican Council stopped meeting. If they'd gone on any longer, I would have died a Protestant." Growth leads to change but it is not appreciated by those who don't want to admit that change is appropriate.

Bud Freeman, in his book You Don't Look Like a Musician, tells of an incident out of the life of Louis Armstrong. He says that Louis Armstrong spent a lot of time walking the streets of Chicago's South Side. During one stroll he saw a crowd gathered around two street musicians. They were playing his song "Struttin' With Some Barbecue." When they finished, he walked over to them and said, "You're playing that song too slow." "How do you know?" came the reply. "I am Louis Armstrong, and that's my chorus you're playing," Armstrong answered. The next day the two minstrels had a sign next to their tin cup which read: "Pupils of Louis Armstrong." Those musicians were humorous, but incorrect. A moment with a master musician doesn't make you his pupil, and a moment spent in Jesus' school of discipleship doesn't make you a disciple. Both take a lifetime.

Discipleship is costly. Gary Player was for years a great competitor in national and international golf tournaments. People would constantly come up to him and make the same remark: "I'd give anything if I could hit a golf ball like you." Player, on one occasion, lost his patience when a spectator made that comment and replied:

No, you wouldn't. You'd do anything to hit a golf ball like me, if it were easy! You know what you have to do to hit a golf ball like me? You've got to get up at 5:00 every morning, go out to the golf course, and hit a thousand golf balls! Your hands start bleeding, and you walk to the clubhouse and wash the blood off your hands, slap a bandage on it, and go out and hit another thousand golf balls! That's what it takes to hit a golf ball like me.
(Jerry D. Butcher, "Just Do It!" Clergy Journal, February 1993, p. 11)

Becoming a disciple will also cost us something.

A few years ago someone promoted one of those fast-track evangelism programs designed to win the world to Christ quickly and easily. It involved putting a bumper sticker on your car that read "I Found It." Supposedly a person's interest would be piqued by that, and when they asked you what you found, it would open the door for you to tell them about Christ. It lost steam and eventually competitive bumper stickers showed up that said "I Never Lost It." Recognizing that becoming a mature Christian is a lifelong process, it would have been more honest if the first bumper sticker had said "I Am Finding It." According to Jesus, we are to continue in his word, always open to something new.

Jesus said that if his disciples continued in his word they would know the truth. I think that "continuing" in his word means we are to put into practice what we are learning. Tony Campolo (Everything You've Heard Is Wrong [Dallas: Word Publishing, 1992], p. 185) tells a story written by the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard in which he describes a make-believe town where only ducks live. It was Sunday morning in Duckville and, as was the custom, all the ducks walked out of their houses and down the streets to the First Duckist Church. They waddled down the aisle of the church, waddled into the pews, and squatted. Shortly afterward, the duck minister took his place in the pulpit and the church service got underway. The scripture text for the morning was taken from the duck Bible and it read:

Ducks, God has given you wings —
you can fly.
Ducks, because you have wings
you can fly like eagles.
Because God has given you wings
no fences can confine you,
no land animals can trap you.
Ducks! God has given you wings!

And all the ducks said "Amen!" And then they got up and waddled home.

It is not enough to simply hear the word. The truth for us is discovered when we act on what we have heard. The deepest knowing comes through doing. Apprentices learn from watching and listening to the journeyman, but the learners accomplish something only when they put what they have learned into practice.

In his book Miracle of Motivation (Wheaton, Illinois: Tyndale House Publishers, 1981, pp. 4-6), George Shin tells of an incident related to him by W. Clement Stone, author of many books on motivation. One day a woman called Stone's office to complain about two of Mr. Stone's books. Mr. Stone was out, but Linda, one of his secretaries, listened to the angry woman's complaints. Apparently, the woman and her husband had bought a couple of Mr. Stone's books on the secrets of success, but the books had done them no good. The woman was still a waitress — a job she hated — and her husband was still unemployed. Mr. Stone's advice had been useless. Perceptively, Linda asked, "But what action did you take as a result of reading Mr. Stone's books?" There was silence, and then the woman answered, "I waited."

The secretary gently explained that the self-help books were written in order to motivate people to act. She told the woman to read the books again but to look for specific ideas upon which to act. Many months later, the woman reached Linda again. She wanted to share with Linda how helpful her advice had been. The woman had returned to school to learn office skills and already received some wonderful job offers for when she graduated. Her husband was now actively searching for a job. The problems didn't magically disappear, but the man and woman were taking positive actions in their lives. The truth of what they were told was proved by acting on what they learned.

The final thing Jesus says in this passage about true discipleship is that it makes us free. Noting how many people are hemmed in by religion, it may seem unlikely that religion can really offer freedom. Part of our confusion stems from misunderstanding what is meant by freedom. In the musical My Fair Lady, Professor Higgins reflects the notion of freedom held by many when he defines himself as "an ordinary man who desires nothing more than just an ordinary chance to live exactly as he likes and do precisely what he wants." In reality, there is no such absolute freedom. Even if we could do what we wanted, it would involve choices, and those choices would then limit the remaining options, for if you do this, you can't do that at the same time; if you take this road, you cannot also take that road.

A few years ago I served a church in Lancaster, California, a self-contained community up on the high desert. Most of the young people talked about moving down to Los Angeles, either for education or for a job. They looked forward to the anonymity of the big city, freedom from restraint, opportunity to do as they pleased, which was difficult in a small town. What surprised me was the number of those young people who moved back to Lancaster after trying life in the big city. Without the restraints to which they had become accustomed, life had become impossibly complicated, and far from finding freedom, many felt they were losing their freedom to become what God intended. When we are immature, we need some external restraints to guard us and rules to guide us. As we grow to maturity, some of those external restraints may be less necessary and less relevant and may be discarded by us. Even so, as old restraints are taken away new resources must be found, lest we yield to license and lose our freedom to be what we were intended to be. We need something that will give us balance.

Boundaries can actually enhance our freedom. Freedom without boundaries can cause us to lose our way. Professor Harold de Wolf, in his book The Religious Revolt Against Reason (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1949, pp. 17-18), tells of an experience that describes the panic of people who lose their point of reference. He went swimming one night with a friend in the Atlantic. The water was full of phosphorescent light and every time a wave broke it showered the night with brilliance. He said he felt as if he were immersed in a fireworks display. Then, having gone out further than he intended, he looked up to the sky to get his bearings. But the sky was like the water — full of the spectacular confusion of the northern lights. No star was visible. Then panic overtook him, for in all that glittering display there was no fixed reality. He could not tell the way to shore. He started back with a helpless terror engulfing him. His freedom, which was unbounded, threatened to destroy him. He learned that freedom is found in knowing where we are and who we are. To know where we are we need some boundaries.

I think one of the important truths Jesus reveals to his disciples is that the fullness of life is found in service. At first that doesn't sound like freedom. Someone told me about the life of Marian Preminger. She was born in Hungary in 1913, raised in a castle with her aristocratic family, and surrounded by maids, tutors, governesses, butlers, and chauffeurs. Her grandmother, who lived with them, insisted that whenever they traveled they should take their own linens because she felt it was beneath their dignity to sleep between sheets used by common people.

While attending school in Vienna, Marian met a handsome doctor. They fell in love, eloped, and married when she was only eighteen. The marriage lasted only a year and she returned to Vienna to begin her life as an actress. While auditioning for a play she met a brilliant young German director, Otto Preminger. They fell in love and soon married. They went to America soon thereafter, where he began his career as a movie director. Marian got caught up in the glamour, fast life, and superficial excitement of Hollywood and soon began to live a sordid life. Her husband divorced her. She returned to Europe to live the life of a socialite in Paris.

In 1948 she read that Albert Schweitzer, a man she read about as a little girl, was making one of his periodic trips to Europe and was staying in the town of Gunsbach. She went to visit him, he invited her to dinner, and by the end of the day she discovered what her life had been lacking. He invited her to come to Africa to work in his hospital. She went and there in Lambarene the girl born in a castle and spoiled by luxury became a servant and found herself. She changed bandages, bathed babies, fed lepers, and in the process became free. In her autobiography, All I Ever Wanted Was Everything, she acknowledged that she couldn't get the "everything" that would satisfy and give meaning until she was able to give everything. When she died in 1979 her obituary carried her own words, in which she said: "Albert Schweitzer said there are two classes of people in this world — the helpers and the non-helpers. I am a helper." What she did was of her own free will. The truth took up residence in her and freed her to be able to serve. "If you continue in my word," said Jesus, "you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (vv. 31-32).

CSS Publishing Co., Inc., All About the Kingdom : Cycle A Sermons for Proper 24 Through Thanksgiving, by David G. Rogne