Thirst Quenching

“When I grow up, I wanna be like _____  !”

What gives rise to this sentiment that one hears spoken at times even by grown-ups? An inner hope to become a better whomever.

The individual disciple and the gathered community of the like-minded have a thing in common – they wish to grow to be like Christ. Some groups voice it openly, “Our aim is to be. like. Jesus.” Others may signal the appetite in more reserved tones, yet their hearts yearn to grow, to mature with a character of the kind displayed in Jesus.

Apprentices to Jesus like what they see in his manner of being and doing. They long to take on those qualities more and more, to the point really of being defined by them.

The carefree farm kid is at home in the company of the good daddy. A particular setting doesn’t so much matter. Whether frolicking about barefoot on fresh-turned sod or rallying his young muscles to move a lawnmower through a stretch of Bermuda grass, he knows he is never left entirely on his own. A strong, assuring presence dwells there with him, near at hand.

An inner appetite of every Jesus-apprentice – even when not always conscious of it – is their longing for nearness. The good rabbi’s band of followers are pulled along by an inner tug to follow him closely – not letting him ‘much out of their sight’.

Not every earthly dad mirrors well the endearing qualities seen in the one Jesus called “my  Father”. Yet, each person living is welcomed by him into just such a father-child closeness. We move that direction through Christ Jesus.

Whether a veteran disciple or a newly signed-on apprentice, the person choosing Christlikeness is growing in the work of training their eyes on this one whom they worship. They are finding, too, that a good beginning point is at the coming of every morning.

“O God, you are my God; early will I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you, in a dry and thirsty land with no water.”*

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                                                             *Psalm 63:1

In Pursuit

The engineer-scholar approached research like an Alaskan sled driver tackling the Iditarod. Body and soul, his mind’s eye trained on a distant finish line. Tenacious all the way.

Once he defined his project, goals were set, objectives clarified, laboratory testing undertaken. The box-checking tasks were diverse and many, yet specific. The scholar took care not to diminish the value of each component. Pressing forward, Dr. Zhang* ‘leaned in’ day after day. His primary aim – to find a way of enhancing flow, of transporting liquids through pipelines by speedier, more efficient means.

As with Mr. Zhang, the Christ-follower’s journey moving forward calls for engaging his “want-to”.  Simply ‘wanting to want to’ qualifies as the starting point for many. They begin employing efforts that any thoughtful person might bring to the table.  As practices, i. e. holy habits, get embraced and take root along the way, the faith walk assumes more and more uplifting elements. A garment of praise displaces a spirit of heaviness.  To his delight, the disciple discovers his own heart-driven quest – to know and to live and to love like God.

Hungering for God grows in the person who wants to want to.

The petroleum engineer embraces a vision that, if realized, may (who knows?) revolutionize a whole industry. But his aim is simply to see a meaningful difference come about. The point all along is in bringing positive change.

The Christian, viewing himself rightly as a follower and apprentice to the Lord Jesus, is poised to learn. Positive change is in the air. The starting point upon rising day by day is to posture himself to hear from Jesus. Doing so, he discovers Jesus afresh as the amazing savior and brilliant person he is – the one who, more than any other person, knows best just how to live the human life. The new apprentice realizes he has been forever changed. . . yet not enough. Like a child’s kite on a breezy day, the currents beckon to the beyond. Lifting higher and further into God’s spacious goodness.

Knowing (really getting to know) God’s Son brings with it transformative workings. Such knowing gives rise to a lifetime of thoughtful, heart-hungering pursuit.

Whether an engineer, a homemaker, a CNA, a student – simply any and every person whose aim is growth – a common thread is witnessed. Effective training and mentoring are hallmarks of change. And how much so, for the happy members of the family – those self-aware and Christ-aware “unceasing spiritual beings with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe”*

These are those who take up a lifestyle patterned closely after their teacher and redeemer friend – their ever-living mentor.

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                                                                                                          * Dr. Zhang (pseudonym)  *The Divine Conspiracy Dallas Willard

Of Being Owned

Living our lives day by day in closeness to Jesus calls for desire. And intention.

Just like any healthy marriage motoring right into the sunset years, both parties – the man and the woman – make numberless small but significant choices. All along the journey each of them has grown into the habit of offering up expressions of worth and honor, the one to the other. This is the nature of what the Father had in mind in the covenant relationship – man wedded to the woman, woman wedded to the man.

In similar manner, the intentional and deliberate follower of Christ routinely offers up to him both actions and words. Expressions of love are core. It is this that sets the disciple apart. The casual Christian, meanwhile, may content himself with an occasional nod to a religious creed.

Priorities

That boy or girl, man or woman who’s growing in Christ is assured of belonging to him. They do not fear losing the relationship. Jesus their savior has redeemed them from the old kingdom of ego where Self sat perched atop the me-centered throne of the heart.

While secure in his everlasting hope, the disciple set on Christlikeness is one who is not content to merely qualify for the ‘someday upward flight’ to the afterworld. The apprentice counts the value tag of his life as a thing reflecting a far more expansive aim. While the afterlife destination means much to him, the love-smitten apprentice aspires less to owning heaven than to being owned by heaven.

© 2023 Jerry Lout

‘Aspiring’

Jesus regularly forms his followers, those whose hearts are poised to grow into his likeness. He just waits on us to make a move. The apprentice grows more like his master by observing and doing the things his master (trainer/mentor) does.

Jesus modeled the practice of praying, for instance. Do you, like me, ever wonder why so many preachers, teachers and scholars write and speak on the subject of prayer? Well, Jesus started it.

Jesus not only taught on prayer. He prayed. A lot.

A. W. Tozer notes that Jesus prayed early in the morning and, at times, throughout all the night. That he prayed both before and after the great events of his life, and prayed “when life was unusually busy”.

Wherever you and I happen to be just now on our discipleship journey, we too may come to him as his early ragamuffin followers did those centuries ago. Bringing before him our earnest appeal about talking with God,

“Lord, teach us to pray.”

Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time* If we should search for a single line to sum up a fundamental disposition present in a New Testament disciple, we might begin with that phrase.

It was he who spoke of us walking alongside him, donning an ‘easy yoke’.  It is Jesus who stirs the imagination, offering a word picture of fruit-producing branches. Each branch, each Christ-follower, draws a plentiful supply of life straight from him – the vine. One day at a time. . one moment at a time.

Through his own frequent rhythms of being present to his Father in prayer Jesus modeled the practice for any and every one signing on as his apprentice. The Lord Jesus, more than any other human, understood prayer’s non-negotiable nature. Endurance and flourishing (two longed-for aims of any meaningful life) find their fountain in direct union with God alone. Nothing else quite works.

I am afraid I have sometimes lacked the ‘sanctified ambition’ witnessed now and then in his early disciples when their hunger surpassed their timidity. “Lord, teach us to pray”.

Those of us who count ourselves as apprentices or apprentice wannabes can thank God every day that their appeal was made. “Teach us to pray” may rank as the most worthwhile request ever voiced by any person anywhere.

Apprentices learn by copying what they see in their teacher.

(c)2023 Jerry Lout

Aim

Certain words have a way about them.

Through every century since Jesus first employed it the term Disciple has pulsed with meaning.

‘Disciple’ carries a weight, an identity and an assignment. A central aim of Jesus’ life and ministry on earth gets captured by this term. Indeed, the final commissioning words the resurrected Christ offered to his followers on the Jerusalem hillside brings it home,

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations”.* He pronounced the assignment to his followers, and was gone.

The phrase is clear. It states what Jesus wants. Go. Make disciples.

So, what does disciple mean? Wikipedia doesn’t always get it right with definitions. In this case it has,

“In the ancient world, a disciple is a follower or adherent of a teacher. It is not the same as being a student in the modern sense. A disciple in the ancient biblical world actively imitated both the life and teaching of the master. It was a deliberate apprenticeship which made the fully formed disciple a living copy of the master.”

Apprenticeship. Words do have a way about them. In his work The Divine Conspiracy, Dallas Willard helps us with the word apprentice.

Two words. . . Disciple. Apprentice. . . their meaning is the same. This is helpful when the sincere believer asks, “What does becoming a follower-of-Jesus look like?”

So Jesus – savior, teacher, trainer – walks along-side his redeemed ones. He is with them every moment in the person of the Holy Spirit under the caring eye of Father God. He is accessible to his children and they to him. The believer may draw on the peace, joy, love and power of the Spirit’s present companionship.

Consider this. What richer offer could come one’s way as we go about living our lives in real time on this earth? The offer is authentic. But it is more than an offer, it is Christ’s commissioning to every believer,

“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children.”*

There it is, right from the New Testament. Apprentice language.

Probably a good early question we might ask of ourselves, “Who am I, as a Christian? Am I a forgiven sinner permitted into heaven when I die? Am I that and only little more?” Or am I stirred somehow toward becoming what Jesus stated he was after – a person easily recognizable as God’s child? One growing more and more to resemble the son of the Father in both character and conduct. Being as he was. Doing as he did.

Increasing numbers of believers are making the shift, growing on purpose into Jesus-likeness. Am I in?

*Ephesians 5:1; Matthew 28.19

©2023 Jerry Lout

 

 

 

Which Me?

Turning my Sherlock Holmes microscope away from other people’s lives – their habits of mood and attitude and behavior – I nervously aim the instrument to myself. Assuming I am taking an honest inventory, sweat droplets begin beading on my forehead.

In my (imaginary) self-exam mode, I assess how I am doing in a brief series of 24-hour segments.  Suppose that early on, I might register a good day (part of a good day?) where my natural responses to people and circumstances rank pretty well on the ‘selflessness’ scale. I start feeling a little heady over this, start edging toward self-congratulatory mode.

But right when the ego celebration is about to launch, I catch a nagging reminder that this is not all that I am called upon to have brought about in my life. I am a willing and, yes, loving follower of Christ.

I begin drilling down beyond the superficial. And find that the onion surface conceals a lot of layers. I rediscover that I am a whole being – body, mind, heart, will. What if my master, Jesus, is calling me to full-on renovation? That would mean a lot of things.

It would mean the disassembling – portion by portion – of the entire bundle (thinkings, feelings, choosings, etc), followed by the methodical rebuilding of all. His way. After all, if he is set on my growing to fully resemble him (in character, patience, generosity, service, peace, joy, love), a hefty amount of ‘me’ has got to go. Such transformation would mean my being somehow ‘traded off’ for a better ‘me’. Interestingly, someone* wrote a useful book about that very thing, “The Me I Want to Be”.

Pondering all this, I pause a moment and offer a half-whispered question, “Is this what Jesus asks of a disciple? Can the apprentice get to the place the master is leading him toward without the disciple’s all-out surrender to a renovated life? A radically changed life?

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                                  *John Ortberg

 

En Route

What does a Christ-loving disciple look like?

Imagine for a minute being assigned the task of people-watching for a day, having one focused objective as the aim. Locate and identify one or more persons within your neighborhood or town whose natural disposition is one of consistent selflessness. You are looking diligently to spot such a selfless, caring person wherever you go today – the marketplace, school, office, in traffic.

In your investigative people-watching quest you’re especially on the lookout for responses these persons give as they encounter life’s circumstances and people. Facial gestures, body language, speech come under the microscope as you watch for the exceptionally selfless person amidst the rest. You might recognize them as “Jesus-like” in this one regard. Selflessness.

Gaining this rare kind of closeup look at people’s lives in numerous settings and conditions might prove revealing, right. (a creepy exercise, yes. We’re only imagining, remember).

Carrying our imaginary survey a step further, at the end of the day you review in your mind the parade of individuals you have ‘spied on’ (we assume you’re a benevolent spy).

By now you can identify dispositions (observable attitudes) of a good number of run-of-the-mill Sallys and Joes for this one day. Giving it your best shot, you might now zero in on two or three of the ‘most impressive subjects’ you’ve tracked. Lovely dispositions, all.

Your new assignment – soon ending the creepy espionage game – you undertake the first task once more. Now, however, you are tracking only the one or two people you’ve deemed as ‘high-ranking’. For them the disposition test will now run not for just a day but for seven days, a full week.

I must offer a confession here. While writing the imaginary scenarios above, I felt my interior self ‘looking over my shoulder’. Let me never be so observed or evaluated! A further sensation is one of feeling immeasurable gratitude to the One whose regenerating love covers “a multitude of sins.”

Can we hope that the illustration, flawed as it is, might bring home a couple worthy lessons for us as we aspire to closer kinship in our apprenticing walk with Jesus. Stay tuned.

© 2022 Jerry Lout

 

Summit Destiny

While the dance idea may suit some believers as they launch into a transforming life in Jesus, the metaphor likely won’t attract others. A mountain-climbing expedition may. The apprenticing pilgrim takes on a rigorous life if he is seriously chasing the call of Jesus: Follow me.

More rigorous than a climber striking out for, say, Africa’s highest mountain peak. Our family lived and served among the Chaga people in the foothills of the majestic mammoth.

School break had set in for our two oldest. “Shall we give Kili a try?”

What parent adopts a fairy-tale voice and launches into a children’s story (the Little Red Choo-choo Train) for a teenaged son or daughter? In a public setting, no less.

Maybe it can inspire them to go the full distance (Kilimanjaro’s 19,000-foot summit) once we set out from this base camp. As the fairy-tale unfolded, fourteen-year-old Scott lazered his attention to a hiking boot as if the world’s survival depended on his rightly adjusting a small stone beneath it. Anything to distance his association with the backpack-laden man prattling on with “I think I can, I think I can. . .” Julie, two years his senior, simply rolled her eyes.

The truth was, we were in for the most daunting test of our stamina and will we had ever faced.

Hiking miles upward to Africa’s loftiest point, with its scarce oxygen and precarious steeps, calls for all the reserves a climber can summons. Reaching Kili’s snowy rim demands three things. Vision, intention and means. 

A brilliant and beloved U.S.C. professor and gospel minister, Dallas Willard, strung this trio of nouns – Vision, Intention, Means – together when coaching Christ-followers toward best practices in their quest to become like Jesus. Willard often used the word apprentice when speaking of a disciple.

“An apprentice of Jesus is learning from him how to lead their life as he would lead their life if he were they.”

My own long and incompleted walk towards transformation into Christlikeness – winding trails (often upward, at other times plateaued, even descending) – stirs added memories from the 1989 Kilimanjaro venture. Our little trio in the company of our guide.

The climb would have met with failure but for our guide.

©2018 Jerry Lout

A Hungering

Jesus of Nazareth invited two apprentices to walk and work with him. Then came a third. . . then another and another. Since those early days, the increase of his trainees-in-Christlikeness has carried forward until their number now spans the globe.

Jesus knew well the need of passing along insights and wisdom. But also, of modelling his rare kind of power – the power of love – brought here to earth by him from another world. He did this kind of thing at every step, this modelling and training.

As for insights and wisdom, what this master-trainer brought into view went deeper. It went past the understanding and good sense already found among people through centuries of human experience. Further, the compassion he showed left other forms of human caring shallow by comparison.

Many historians measure this Middle-eastern figure, whose name is more commonly spoken than any other in history, as the most gifted, the most brilliant human ever to live. Yet he didn’t hold his understanding to himself, wasn’t stingy with his gems. Rather, Jesus offered up to any who would take him seriously, his own qualities – wisdom and truth – which any sensible person might eagerly receive.

So, this carpenter-turned-rabbi – as a feature of his mission – recruited to himself a company of students, of learners who might grow to live as he lived. Might even, to a surprising measure, become as he was.  Many of Jesus’ apprentices arrived on the scene from ordinary backgrounds. Some were well-educated, others not, some well to do, others not so much.

They would travel with him in climates both calm or stormy. They tasted samplings of popularity and favor and weathered seasons of scorn and rejection.

These disciple-apprentices dined in community. They wrapped up countless action-filled days reflecting together before an open flame at a makeshift fire pit, often at places a good way from their homes. Their minds and hearts took in what they were able of their coach’s actions and sayings. Time in each another’s presence stretched them. They quibbled. They fussed. They were in training.

When one or two of the group asked him for advice on how to pray, Jesus answered in sensible language, “Pray this way. . .”

He also modeled praying. His apprenticing meant that he  would (in a manner unlike others of his day) shift readily into a conversation with the invisible God whom he knew to be among them. This would occur easily, naturally when a time or circumstance called for it, which tended to be often.

When their food supply got small, Jesus talked to them about carefree living, then, on occasion would completely surprise them, bringing forth a meal. Such actions would leave them in wonder and deeply curious as to this man’s other-worldly nature.

Never one who seemed rushed or fidgety, he chuckled easily with his apprentice-friends. And, like any skillful mentor, he corrected them without timidity, apology or fanfare.

On a given day Jesus’ corrective counsel might be directed to one or two of the apprentices or he may address a thing meant for the wider community.  Regardless, corrective action was each time offered in the interest of serving both his highest good and theirs. The trainees grew to own this.

The longer they walked with him, the less they wished for the former life, their old ways of being. It began to feel as though the rabbi was growing them, little by little, to become very much like himself. This seemed a good thing. They hungered for more.

©2018 Jerry Lout

 

A New Coach

The apprentices did not tire of their hardships in the company of the carpenter-turned-rabbi. Roughing it with Jesus deepened them somehow. And, while his parables and assignments at times perplexed them, they were never at risk of getting bored.

As he labored at offering up truth and clarifying it where needed, Jesus remained always-present to them. His favorite moments seemed to be found engaging these clearly flawed but hungering men. The rabbi taught with warmth and wit and they would catch the occasional upturned smile in the flicker of a crackling night fire. At other times his voice was marked by a distressful tone. This would not often pass unnoticed, their searching eyes exploring his troubled features. Clearly he knew things – deep, disturbing, wonderful things – not yet ripe for sharing.

While they at times tracked his sayings with clear-eyed understanding, the recruited apprentices weren’t always the keenest of trainees.

He could leave them feeling uneasy by his prescriptions for living life. Sometimes they were utterly baffled over a point he seemed bent on making. In these times, to his credit, he never demeaned them. Rather, the rabbi gently drew them in. . . to reflecting, to pondering, in ways the best educators through history have commonly done.

Jesus’s first team of trainees numbered just twelve. The wildly-diverse company of personalities with their contrasted backgrounds walked with Jesus, under his tutelage a good three years and more.

Partly because of his awful and glorious final acts – yielding up himself as a young man in his prime to a voluntary death, then shockingly emerging fully alive three days later from his garden tomb – the rabbi’s handful of followers came to embrace him fully. And, considering their remarkable Holy Spirit-empowering afterward, how could his company of trainee-disciples possibly remain few!

Being fully divine, Jesus remained entirely man. Human, subject to weariness, to pain, pleasure, hope. Yet he stayed blameless, flawless-of-character, good.

While Jesus was surely qualified to mentor craftsmen in the skills of carpentry and construction, he knew well that his mission lay elsewhere. It was a mission spanning eternity and with all tribes of the human family in view. It was a call of cosmic dimension, an assignment in transforming communities out of all earth’s cultures and languages, into persons remarkably like himself.

While the word apprentice hasn’t always sprung readily to mind when reaching for a label to tag a “Jesus-follower”, it may come as close as any to best portray this mentor-mentee relationship.

Jesus was a master teacher. Beyond this, Jesus supplies not only knowledge for learning but the power needed to effectively apply life-altering truths to raw, in-the-trenches daily living. Bringing his disciples forward into a life as his own, he leads as friend.

A few years back I happened onto the writings of a gentleman in whom the term “apprentice to Jesus” had found a welcome home. He referenced it often. The apprentice word fits Dallas Willard like a favorite pair of gym shoes fits an athlete.

We can likely learn some things from a seasoned Christ-follower apprentice – who, on entering the process, found an entirely new life emerge.              

                               “Follow me as I follow Christ”     – Paul, the apostle

         ©2018 Jerry Lout