|
|
||||
| This article originally appeared in the Summer 2011 issue of Knowing & Doing | ||||
|
by Jonathan M. Lunde, Ph.D. |
||||
|
The Current “Discipleship Crisis”
As recent studies have shown, a large percentage of American young people who claim to be Christians have embraced a form of Christian belief that falls far short of a vigorous expression of biblical discipleship. Dubbed “moralistic therapeutic Deism” (MTD), its contours reduce God to something of a “divine Butler” who remains aloof from his people until they summon him to address some felt need and who asks only that his people be “nice” to others. Even a superficial examination of Jesus’ actual teachings reveals how unbiblical this form of discipleship really is. But it is also clear that this state of affairs does not plague merely the younger generation of American Christians. Rather, the researchers who conducted this study have concluded that Christian young people have adopted this version of Christianity because their parents and churches have mentored them toward this perspective. Researcher Kenda Dean opines: The problem does not seem to be that churches are teaching their young people badly, but that they are doing an exceedingly good job of teaching youth what we really believe: namely, that Christianity is not a big deal, that God requires little, and the church is a helpful social institution filled with nice people focused primarily on “folks like us”… What if the blasé religiosity of most American teenagers is not the result of poor communication but the result of excellent communication of a watered-down gospel so devoid of God’s self-giving love in Jesus Christ, so immune to the sending love of the Holy Spirit that it might not be Christianity at all?… If this is the case… then perhaps most young people practice Moralistic Therapeutic Deism not because they reject Christianity, but because this is the only “Christianity” they know. Obviously, this narcissistic version of “Christian” discipleship requires very little from its adherents, resulting in lifestyles that are hardly “salty” enough to compel others to turn from their own narcissism so as to follow the Jesus of the Scriptures. In fact, this insipid religiosity has resulted in a pervasive disillusionment by the watching world regarding Christians and their claims. Rather than standing as beacons of integrity, justice, compassion, and purity, Christians are increasingly viewed by non-Christians with skepticism, indifference, and even cynicism. Since Christianity is always but one generation from extinction, this dilution of Christian discipleship and its impotent evangelistic influence should cause great concern for every thoughtful believer. What might be said in response to this state of affairs? Certainly, since MTD is patently unbiblical, if there is to be any resurgence in Christian vitality, the church must recover a profoundly biblical understanding of discipleship. That is to say, if these popular perversions of Christianity are to be corrected, it will only come through hearing Jesus’ own voice as it is meditated to us through the Scriptures. But in order to hear him faithfully, we must also recover a big-picture understanding of God’s purposes as they come to their fullest expression in Jesus. For our discipleship will reflect what Jesus had in mind only if we hear his voice and experience the power of his ministry in the robust richness of first-century Judaism. Only then should we feel any confidence that we have gotten things right as his disciples in the twenty-first century. In other words, if Christians are to expect people to take Christianity seriously in our context, then Christians must begin taking Jesus seriously in his context. This is what I have attempted to do in my recent publication, Following Jesus, the Servant King. To address the contemporary aberrations of Christian discipleship, I set out to answer three questions from the Scriptures. These are the “why,” the “what,” and the “how” questions:
It didn’t take me very long to realize that the answers to these questions must be pursued in the context of the covenantal framework of the Scriptures. In fact, the loss of the biblical category of “covenant” in the church is likely one of the main reasons for the present impoverishment of Christian discipleship. My book is therefore a summons to return to “covenantal discipleship.” First, the “why” question. The “Why” QuestionWhy should we be concerned to follow all of Jesus’ commands when we have been saved by grace? The “why” question emerges from the difficulty of sorting out the reason for an all-consuming concern for righteousness, while at the same time affirming the New Testament’s declaration that we are saved entirely by the grace of God in Jesus. It is Christ alone who fulfilled the righteous requirements of the law on our behalf (Rom. 8:3), and it is he alone who bore the curse of the law in our stead (Gal. 3:13). Being counted righteous before God, therefore, turns not on our own concerted attempts to live righteous lives, but rather on receiving this verdict through faith in Jesus (Rom. 3:28; Eph. 2:8–9). This is where the “why” question enters, encrusted with all sorts of related theological issues pertaining to grace and demand. Might we fall into a form of legalism if we actually strive to obey all of Jesus’ demands? Wouldn’t this transfer our confidence before God to ourselves and deny the sufficiency of Jesus’ finished work in the process? In fact, shouldn’t we rather view the extravagant demands of Jesus as persistent reminders of our inability to meet God’s standards, thereby nudging us back to his grace? Reducing the demands of Jesus to some realistic form of moralism might actually appear to be appropriate when viewed in this light. To answer the “why” question and its corollaries, we must realize that the interplay between grace and demand permeates the covenantal framework of the Old Testament. In fact, every biblical covenant is grounded in grace—whether that be creation grace, sustaining grace, redeeming grace, or the grace that comes through divine promises about the future. This means that those who enter into covenant with God do so in a gracious reality. In other words, legalism—the attempt to earn God’s favor through meritorious acts—is never in view in the biblical covenants, properly understood.
Yet the answer to our “why” question is not simply found in observing the repetition of this covenantal pattern. The connections to our discipleship go far deeper than this. This is because both sides of the covenantal relationship find their fulfillments in Jesus. On the one hand, all of the gracious elements of the covenants lead directly to Jesus. For instance, Jesus is the true Seed of Abraham through whom the patriarch’s promises are mediated (Gal. 3:15–29). He himself is the Lamb who provides the climactic fulfillment of the Passover deliverance through his crucifixion and resurrection (Luke 22:19–20). And he is the greater Son of David who fulfills the expectation of an heir reigning on an eternal throne (Luke 1:30–35). In each case, Jesus brings God’s covenantal grace to its zenith. In these and other ways, Jesus mediates God’s covenantal grace, epitomized by his role as the great Servant of the Lord, who does for Israel (and the rest of us) what the people could not do for themselves. On the other hand, Jesus fulfills the law by articulating the end-time expression of God’s demand of righteousness. This is why he repeatedly places his commands in the neighborhood of discussions about the law (e.g., Matt. 5:17–48). Since he is the great Son of David, he fulfills the expectation of the righteous King, reigning over a transformed people and demanding from them the righteousness befitting members of the kingdom of God. In the end, we find our answer to the “why” question in the framework of the New Covenant. Those who have experienced through Christ the internalization of the law (Jer. 31:33), the indwelling of the transforming Spirit of God (Ezek. 36:26–27), and the once-for-all atonement in Jesus’ death (Jer. 31:34), will inevitably respond in obedience and fidelity to his righteous commands. Put otherwise, (1) having been graced by Jesus in his Servant work, (2) genuine disciples will respond faithfully to Jesus’ royal summons to righteousness. And since Jesus lived out the life of the Servant, (3) followers of the King will ultimately emulate the Servant. We might depict this conception of discipleship accordingly: |
||||
|
|
The direction of the arrows is crucially important. The nature of the Servant’s work means that it cannot be emulated—at least initially. There is only one thing that can be done with grace. It must be received (Mark 10:45; 14:22–24). Thus discipleship appropriately begins in the reception of the Servant’s grace. But those who receive this grace are also covenantally compelled to respond to Jesus’ all-encompassing summons to righteousness and fidelity (Matt. 5:20; 16:24). Grace that is thoughtfully received never leaves the individual unchanged. The one who has been graced by the Servant will therefore be moved and empowered to follow the King in all of his discipleship demands. |
|||
The “What” QuestionWhat is it that Jesus commands us to do as his disciples? As we know, people answer this question in a variety of ways. Some reduce it to “being nice” to others. Some view Jesus through Paul’s “gospel lens” and perceive only the necessity of faith in him as their gracious savior. Some engage in various social justice causes, seeking to obey Jesus’ great command to love their neighbors as themselves. Others translate Jesus’ commands into guidelines involving such things as not swearing, smoking, drinking, or having sex outside of marriage. Still others sell most everything and go to the ends of the earth with the gospel. But what does Jesus mean when he calls people to a life of discipleship? Once again, our answer comes in the covenantal framework that he fulfills. Since Jesus is the great King, who reigns over the New Covenant era, it is not surprising that he articulates the covenantal demand of righteousness, summoning people to follow him as one would follow God (Luke 18:18–23). For this reason, Jesus claims in Matthew 5:17 to be bringing the fulfillment of the law (and the prophets). Our knee-jerk reaction to this claim might be to interpret it as implying he would be the one to live out the law’s commands himself or to provide the final atoning sacrifice required by the law. But the nature of his fulfillment in this context turns out to be neither of these. Rather, as the succeeding verses make clear (vv. 21–48), his fulfillment consists in articulating the end-time expression of the law for his new covenant disciples.
And yet, even though Jesus affirms the eternality of each of the law’s provisions (Matt. 5:18), it is clear that some aspects of the law are covenantally altered as they pass through Jesus’ fulfillment. In reality, Jesus’ fulfillment does not always affect the law in the same way. Rather, each instance of Jesus’ interaction with the law must be studied in its own context. To capture the essence of the kinds of things that Jesus does with the law, we might use three metaphors, each of which pertains to light. Yet we will notice that even though each of these is distinct in itself, they all lead to the same general result—the high demand of righteousness in the new-covenant era. Jesus the “Filter”As the “filter,” Jesus’ fulfillment renders certain aspects of the law obsolete, as each of them is superseded by the realities to which they were pointing all along. Temple sacrifices are fulfilled, of course, in Jesus’ cross-work (Matt. 26:17–20; Hebrews 7–10). Circumcision in the flesh is eclipsed by the circumcision of the heart, performed by the Spirit (Rom. 2:25–28;Col. 2:11–12). The external function of the food laws is replaced by the internal witness of the Spirit regarding those things that defile the person (Mark 7:1–23; Gal.5:19–24). And Moses’ temporary concession to allow frequent divorces is largely rescinded by Jesus’ summons to lifelong marriages characteristic of the “one flesh” union (Mark 10:2–12). Although each of these results in the obsolescence of an aspect of the law, thereby changing its ongoing function, profound righteousness of word and deed is the consistent outcome.
|
||||
| Page 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 | ||||
|
Email this article to a friend. |
||||
| To receive electronic or hard copies of Knowing & Doing, click here. | ||||
| To browse the Knowing & Doing archives of articles, click here. | ||||
| Click to like this article on Facebook! | ||||
