His Hand is on the Door

The Gospel of Mark - the Weakness of Discipleship, Pt. 1…

April 14th, 2008

In beginning this latest series, I want to make clear that the “weakness” of discipleship does not refer to the practice itself as a weak endeavor. Rather, I am referring to Mark’s examination of the messiness of true discipleship through the lens of the weakest men to ever say “yes” to Jesus. The subject of weakness as a whole has captivated me over the past month, for reasons that will hopefully unfold with clarity as I return to a regular writing, study, and prayer schedule. So, when I speak here of the weakness of discipleship I am speaking of personal weakness and the pursuit of Christlike righteousness, holiness, and perspective.

Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown…

To say “yes” to follow and become like someone else is an intensely frustrating undertaking. An elite athlete is still subject to the system of the coach, and must submit his personal preferences to the will of his leader. He or she must subdue and restrain their incredible gifts and talents in a manner that allows for the rest of the “symphony” to function in tight harmony. These realities of team life separate championship teams from merely successful ones. Thus a once in a generation athlete like Michael Vick was forced to labor in vain while another once in a generation star such as Michael Jordan won multiple championships. The former had incredible gifts but ended the careers of multiple coaches, all of whom failed to convince Vick that the team’s success meant personal restraint. For the “running quarterback” to win, he simply had to choose not to run.

Such a weekly act of discipline proved to great a task - in the end, for Vick, the ego proved too great an obstacle. In Jordan’s case, the ego was a far greater force - rarely has any sport seen arrogance, anger, and inflated ego, despite what the sneaker commercials presented. Yet, in the end, he was confronted with the weakness of subduing his ego and restraining his abilities to allow his teammates to flow and participate with one plan that flowed from head coach rather than his ability to get past the man defending him. What Jordan found was that, when his teammates were uninvolved and outside of the natural “flow” of movement that constitutes a healthy offensive strategy, there was always another defender to have to beat. One on five is always impossible, as Jordan found out dramatically in 1986 when he scored 63 points against the Boston Celtics, one of the greatest teams of that era, and still lost the playoff series.

This would be Jordan’s lot for the next five years - singular greatness overshadowed by devastating playoff losses. The accusations began to multiply and the pressure began to increase - all of which were great blows to his ego. He finally came to understand that true greatness was not knit to individual brilliance but team success. Thus, he bought into a larger plan, or system of play, which was predicated more on passing and movement. This system required that someone else initiate the plan; at times, it moved the ball through the center (who, on those teams, was often the most unskilled player on the team), and it reacted to the defense rather than barreling into the teeth of five opposing elite athletes.

This, of course, was hard for Jordan to buy into. Why? His greatest issue, other than trusting his head coach, was trusting his teammates to make sound decisions. Early on in his career, they had not. Yet, his own efforts were proving fruitless and thus he was left with little choice in the matter. To win, he had to restrain himself and allow his teammates to assert themselves. The key to Jordan’s success was not that he learned to do this 100% of the time, rather, for him success was found in adhering to this principle 75% of the time. As a once-in-a-lifetime superstar, he felt he had earned the ability to deviate from the plan and assert himself in certain key moments. Still, for Jordan, restraining himself for to allow for authentic team dynamics at that level proved enough to win six championships over the next ten years.

As Paul said, in 1 Corinthians 9:25-28: “Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate (restrained) in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown. Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air. But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.”

Infinite Power Tempered Every Day For 33 Years

The ultimate display of restraint, however, was found in the earthly ministry of Jesus 2000 years ago. What Jesus is asking of us, He modeled to perfection: He demonstrated the wisdom of power restrained, or “meekness”. While the ego and arrogance of man makes true meekness seemingly impossible, the desire of Jesus to make Himself “of no reputation” made meekness attractive. It is stunning to imagine that Jesus can make something that men find weak, foolish, and contemptible attractive as we begin to walk according to the Spirit rather than our own understanding and sensibilities.

For even what Michael Jordan did in restraining his own power was for his own sake - as is the case with every athlete who competes for a prize apart from God. Yet Jesus did it for no glory or reward of His own, but for the glory of His Father. He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death - even the death of the cross. He humbled Himself, in other words, to the point of personal humiliation for the sake of the exaltation of His Father and the interests of the saints. Who would willingly and wholeheartedly suffer great anguish and humiliation for the sake of others, with no thought of personal gain? I want to pour out my life while maintaining as much personal dignity as possible. Jesus, on the other hand, made Himself of no reputation 33 years before the cross!

In other words, how humiliating could the cross have been in comparison to “taking on the form of a bondservant” and “coming in the likeness of men”? After all, He did not consider it robbery to be equal with God. What did this mean? It meant, for 33 years, Jesus joyfully stuck with the plan of His “coach” rather than baptizing the earth with fire according to His “distress” (Lk. 12:50). It meant, for 33 years, the greatest revivalist in history stayed mostly hidden, and, during His 3 1/2 public ministry years, mostly in the outskirts of His own nation. Imagine a modern revivalist operating in signs and wonders conducting their ministry primarily in North Dakota and Montana rather than the cities and the population centers?

It meant, for 33 years, always having the right answer in every conversation but mostly letting everyone else speak. It meant allowing His earthly father to teach Him carpentry, when His resume included “stretching out the heavens like a curtain” and “laying the beams of His upper chambers in the waters” (Ps. 104:2-3). It meant that most of the things He preached and taught were misunderstood and misinterpreted (Isa. 6:9-10) - even by those most loyal to Him (Mk. 6:52). Can you imagine knowing that almost every sermon you would ever preach would not be heard? As a preacher, I naturally gauge my success by the response of the congregation - Jesus was faced with a people that were continually astonished and amazed by His teaching, yet astonishingly unresponsive and dull. John the Baptist had the same problem (Matt. 11:17).

The dilemma of discipleship

How can I be like One who was so given with understanding that is so alien to my own? Why did Jesus do the things that He did - what was He thinking? How can my thinking be formed in a similar manner?

Thus, the great problem of my life can be summed up like this: true discipleship means that I have to follow in the footsteps of the One I love and desire to obey. It means that I have to buy into His mindset, and a never-ending series of “whys” behind His “what”. I have to love what He loves, and hate what He hates. The weakness of my pursuit, of course, is this:

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.

“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,So are My ways higher than your ways,And My thoughts than your thoughts.”

- Isaiah 55:8-9

It is, on the surface, an impossible proposition - a preposterous invitation. We have been invited to embark on a journey that begins with our sincere “yes” and ends with a complete transformation that helps us reason and choose in like manner to the One who is discipling us. The Master has invited us to follow Him, and thus we are to deny ourselves and take up a cross in the great exchange. The question has been asked - what would a man give in exchange for his soul? The answer is found in the life of the Man who gave up everything to gain everything. To follow, I also must be crucified in Christ. While this sounds noble, I must confess that the outworking of this in my own life is so unglamourously awkward and foolish that it’s a wonder I am still saved.

Thankfully, nowhere is this dilemma more pronounced and precisely expressed than in the Gospel of Mark. The weakness of trying to emulate transcendent perfection, an other-worldly mindset and value system that my own sensibilities disagree with a good percentage of the time, is best examined through the lens of a group of young guys who were just like me. They were sincere, zealous, and passionate. They were also weak, foolish, ambitious, selfish, and often filled with unbelief. This is the portrait that Mark paints for us. The impossibility of what we are trying to do is often humorously described by Mark, who desired to give simple men like me hope that with God, all things are possible.

David

Entry Filed under: bible, life in the spirit, prayer, weakness of discipleship