A God Not To Be Known, Perhaps, But Experienced

We all have anchors in life--external forces that keep us from drifting, that hold us fast, that give us support, security, and stability. Sometimes our anchors are massive, sometimes they're little things.

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Starting my freshman year of college, a couple times every semester I received a letter in my mailbox. These letters, hand-written by Paul Cook, a neighbor and mentor, were packed full of gold. Mostly, they were full of anecdotes and aphorisms--some ridiculous and hysterical, others profound and deeply moving. I always looked forward to reading these letters because they were so personal. It felt like Paul was literally standing right beside me as I read them. His words were always encouraging and affirming, and they always challenged me to push deeper in my thinking. These letters were an anchor in my life.

Last year, Paul Cook passed away. The letters continue to come though, now written by his wife Debby. Time and time again, she has proved to be another anchor in my life, and I can't praise God enough for the blessing she is to me. I received another of these letters from her yesterday. Just like with the letters from Paul, there were parts where I was comforted, parts where I was challenged to think deeper about God, and parts where I laughed out loud. In this letter, Debby included an excerpt from one of Paul's sermons on believing in God. It's got me thinking about God in a different way: maybe God is not one to be known, perhaps, but experienced.

"Consider an analogy of God that has proven helpful for me: Believing in God is like standing at the seashore and looking toward the horizon. The water between the horizon and us is so immense that it defies even our imaginations. And in addition to what we can see, there is an invisible world beneath the surface brimming with life and full of mysteries. Though we cannot comprehend it all, we can taste the sea and discover its saltiness. We can sense its power as the waves pound the beach. In spite of all that we cannot fathom about the ocean, we know we can trust its tides and waves; we can ride on its surface and enjoy it. Similarly, we will never fully comprehend God. We can stand at the edge of God and discover things about Him. It may be that what we can learn about God is comparable to a small cup of water drawn from an immense sea. Yet, we rejoice in our small revelations and discoveries of God, such as the knowledge that God is love. We can trust Him and enjoy Him, much as we enjoy the sea..." (Paul Cook)

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In one of his songs, rapper Lecrae says, "Don't Die. Multiply." Debby and her letters are evidence of Paul's multiplication. I want to live in a way that multiplies Paul, too.

The Cost of Discipleship

I heard a sermon by Dr. Williams, one of the religion professors here at Gardner-Webb. At the end of his sermon, he brought up The Great Commission where Jesus sends out his disciples. Dr. Williams said that if you look back at the original Greek manuscripts, there's only one imperative verb in all of that passage; it isn't "go," and it isn't "teach," and it isn't "baptize"--it's "make disciples."

Jesus traveled and preached to masses, he healed people and ministered to individuals, he gave people purpose and hope, but none of this was his primary ministry. Jesus' primary ministry was to his disciples. Everywhere he went, everything he did, his 12 disciples were always shadowing him, watching him, learning from him, being changed by him. Jesus ministered to thousands, but his primary investment was in 12 men. Through those 12 men, Jesus created a revolution; and now, above all else, his one imperative command to all of us is to make disciples.

A lot of people go their entire lives asking the question, "What is my purpose?" I think Jesus answers that right here. Make disciples. Of course, this will look differently for us all, but for me, it looks like high schoolers. I'm trying to completely surrender my life to this aim of making disciples, and I won't lie: I hate not being able so see results sometimes, and I hate feeling like I'm giving my everything and it's not making a difference. Make disciples. It's hard. It's painful. It's changing my life, and I'm realizing that it's when I'm trying to disciple others that I'm opening myself up to be truly discipled myself.

A couple days ago, I picked up one of the guys I'm trying to disciple, and we went to Yamatos to have dinner together, to talk one-on-one, for me to encourage him, for me to invest in him. We mostly laughed and joked about everything from school to sports to girls. We also talked about searching for God everyday and how to live for Christ. During our time together, I talked about what God's been teaching me and I discussed the verse I've been meditating on, which we actually memorized together right there in the restaurant (John 8: 31-32, "If you follow my teachings, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."). We talked about how obedience precedes knowledge and understanding, even freedom, and that ultimately it's our obedience, what we're actually doing, that counts for something (for a better look at this verse, check out Shannon's super insightful and enriching blog). He sits and listens while I rant. He talks and questions. He makes stupid jokes that bring us back to the mundane and the crass.

Before we met, I spent all day praying and being with God. Dare I say it, I even skipped a class because I felt God nudging me to, reminding me how little time I've spent with Him/Her, reminding me how much S/He's worth it. Reminding me how much the people I'm discipling are worth it. I'm not just investing in myself when I spend intentional, focused, one-on-one time with God; I'm investing in everyone I come in contact with. After we met, I spent the rest of my day alone, neglecting my homework and praying for him, asking God to draw him and transform him and renew him and use him.

The cost of discipling was $20 that night (homeboy ordered freaking steak and shrimp! haha). It cost me several good nights of sleep (since I had to spend the next few nights making up for that skipped class and a day's worth of academic unproductivity (this should be a real word)). It costs me a lot of aching (the more I pray for these guys, the more I have this soft and constant aching, almost a hurting). It costs me my precious free-time and college friend-time and so much. But heck, it's the only thing worth it. And it changes me. I find I'm more encouraged, and I feel more love, and I have more of a hunger and drive to search for God, and I'm a better person. I'm more complete. Somehow, discipling disciples me.

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28: 16-20