Newsletter #57
On Our Future Discipleship
On Our Future Discipleship
It strains credulity to claim you’re being “Kingdom-focused” in your rationale for doing something if you’re disregarding Scripture while doing it.
We’re Deciding Now Who We’ll Be Then
I spend a lot of time in what might normal people would regard as unpleasant situations. Let me illustrate:
-Walking down the hallways of nursing homes
-Watching people say their final goodbye just before the casket-lid is closed
-Speaking to older adults about their problematic ways of dealing with their adult children
-Speaking to older adults about the need to think and plan in specifics for their death
-Visiting hospital rooms and the Intensive Care Unit
Now most readers will recognize this list. It’s the type of stuff that pastors do. Frankly, it’s the type of stuff that others do also, like responsible children, chaplains, and funeral home staff members. But perhaps pastors uniquely encounter a larger range of unpleasant, uncomfortable situations than nearly all other vocations.
We don’t always excel in these areas of ministry. After all, it’s quite difficult to train young men for these experiences. They test one’s patience, courage, and wisdom. God alone is able to sustain one through a lifetime of these ministry moments. Nevertheless, we must do them. As Eddie Moody often said in the years we worked together, “Christians do the hard things.” Completely true.
Amid all the pastoral obligations associated with these situations, I want to point to a different angle that’s true of our general Christian experience: we’re deciding now what kind of disciples we’ll be later.
This insight hit me in a fresh way a few months ago when I was visiting a nursing home. I was leaving the memory ward—a difficult enough place on its own. As I walked down the hallway I was struck by several sights, sounds, and smells. They were uncomfortable, harsh, repelling. I then remembered something I’ve thought of so many times through the years: you may spend your final weeks and months in a place just like this. Get ready now.
I realize that there are a few different ways one could take a sentiment like that. One could think of the financial decisions that they need to make now to prepare for their future living situation. One could think more about the way they’re raising their children now—the ones likely to make big decisions about their future care. Those types of things matter. Certainly, they’re not entirely unrelated to what I’m thinking of. Yet what about my formation? My discipleship?
Life in a nursing home may not be the best context to consider. We see people at their worst, cognitively and physically. They’ve become almost entirely dependent on others to execute the normal, daily activities which they’ve performed for themselves most of their adult lives. Accordingly, they’re struggling. Some of those struggles will almost inevitably mean that they aren’t in full command of themselves. We should expect that even some people known throughout their lives for godliness may be a shell of themselves. We need to be compassionate, patient, and mindful of this.
On the other hand, there is a universal human tendency for people to age how they have lived. Without a steady, upward path of intentional spiritual growth, we all fall back into what we naturally are: selfish, impulsive, ungrateful, crude, and proud. My old friend Chris Carroll used to put it well: “When people get old, they start losing their filters.” True, though this is no doubt a generalization—kind of like, “Young people are impulsive,” or “Young people always want what’s new.” These are often true, though not always. It might be better to say, “As people age, if they don’t continue to grow, they’ll become sloppy in attending to their relationships and character.”
While most of us are more Augustinian in our theological outlook, we should appreciate Thomas Aquinas for how he channels the tradition of thinking about virtue and habits found in Aristotle. In the simplest of terms, “We become who we are (virtue) by what we continue to do and not do (habit).” I know; it’s more complicated than that. But it also has the benefit of being observable, commonsensical, and Scriptural. Perhaps that’s why so many who’ve never read Aquinas or Aristotle still generally understand and agree with this outlook.
We keep showing patience, and we become patient. We keep doing kind things, and we form the character of kindness. We keep letting our mouths run wild, and by the time we’re 75 or 85 we’ll be gossips, slanderers, and insult-machines.
The threat of isolation also looms large for people. Even the most social among us have a tendency to pull back and withdraw as we age. We are prone to devalue the gathered communion of saints for all sorts of reasons. This can even happen to those for whom congregational life was very important earlier in life. That being the case, how much more intentional must we be about giving ourselves more fully to God’s people now, lest we forsake them later?
You Can’t Predict Everything, But You Can Anticipate a Lot
Part of what makes these types of reflections on the future so difficult is that we don’t really know where our lives will take us. We have no certainty as to who will help us, betray us, promote us, love us, or forget us. Still, we mostly make some plans. We’re warned in James 4 about the man who goes into town with lofty ambitions, only to learn that his life is a vapor. The God of tomorrow laughs at our plans, though not in vindictiveness or cruelty. He just knows better, and plans to help us learn better, if only we’ll listen.
I once heard someone say that you must build your life around the things you know to be certain. This is terrific, Scriptural counsel. I would only go a step further to say, “You can and should also plan your life around things that are likely.” Remember that Proverbs (and portions of Ecclesiastes) aren’t iron-clad rules for how everything will always go under all circumstances. They are God-given, inspired generalizations based on human nature, relationships, and contingencies. This doesn’t negate their force; it simply clarifies them.
I do well to learn restraint and wisdom in my speech, eating, spending, and leisure. I’m becoming a certain kind of man now, and that man will be better equipped for godliness in the future through faithful discipleship now.
It’s likely that my life will end in less-than-desirable circumstances. I can do some things now to mitigate that, but I have much more control over other things which matter more: leaving behind an intact, godly legacy, and being prepared to depart and be with Jesus. To paraphrase the apostle Paul, that would be far better than anything else.
Follow-Up:
In several earlier newsletters (here especially) I’ve remarked on the joy and nature of my own reading experiences. In recent months I’ve enjoyed Joel Miller’s Book Review in which he discusses many facets of reading, books, and libraries. This recent piece about one library’s attempt to go mostly digital in the future is worth your time, especially if you are engaged in any kind of research.
Currently Reading:
Victor Ray, On Critical Race Theory: Why it Matters & Why You Should Care
Quote of the Week:
the miracle grows when the searcher finds Book X and then randomly spots Book Y or Z a few slots over, on another shelf down, or when they turn to sit on the floor and browse their initial discovery…A good library isn’t just an insight machine; it’s also a serendipity engine that curates enough relevance and proximity to engender surprise connections and open new passageways for learning and discovery…Nobody knows what they need until they explore what’s already there.
Joel J. Miller, “When All Your Books Disappear.”