When my mom was little, she used to follow her dad as he worked in his garage shop and around the house. At 3 years old, she had her own little tape measure and did her best to learn all she could. This was probably adorable until one particular moment when she came into the kitchen where my grandma was cooking, pulled out her tape measure, stretched it along the counter, and in her tinny little 3-year-old voice, swore about it being too short.
I’m told that a person doesn’t realize the power of absorption until they’re parenting impressionable kids who seem to pick up all the wrong things. As developing humans, we don’t become what we want; we become what we follow.
In his book “Practicing the Way,” teacher, writer, and pastor John Mark Comer writes, “Everybody is following somebody—or at least something. … The question isn’t ‘am I a disciple,’ it’s ‘who or what am I a disciple of?’”
Jesus’ command in today’s passage—to go and make disciples—comes on the heels of his proclamation of his authority and power. It is his message of love and his power and authority that comforts a world in desperate need of God’s grace. But we cannot make what we are not; we cannot say “come and follow” what we are not following ourselves. It’s why, in these last verses of Matthew, Jesus’ command is not given for the masses who witnessed his miracles or for the crowds who sat at his feet and absorbed “good teaching.” It’s for his followers—those who accepted his invitation, left comfort and certainty behind, and decided that the way, the truth, and the life himself was all they needed.
Neither being a disciple nor making disciples is “quick work.” It’s not learned in a moment; it’s practiced over a lifetime. To teach someone requires us to model it ourselves, not just in the classroom (or church building) but in daily life. This is what it means to be students of a rabbi: To follow Jesus and do as he did in every moment. After all, we might have eager 3-year-olds watching us!
And the real encouragement is given to us at the end: “I am with you always,” says Jesus. Jesus himself goes with us, constantly teaching us what it means to be true disciples—true apprentices, as Comer says. We cannot fulfill this command to “go and make” if we ourselves are not also apprenticed to the master carpenter. With him as our daily guide, we can build fruit that lasts (to mix metaphors, made of cherrywood, perhaps?).
Reflection:
- Who—or what—are you a disciple of? What “teachers” are in your life—to whom do you look for guidance, wisdom, comfort, peace, love, and an example to emulate? Where is Jesus in your queue of “rabbis”?
- Are you reflecting who (or what) you follow so others can look at you and see your rabbi? If this isn’t Jesus, what might you need to leave behind so you can follow him?
- God’s way is often “the long way” (Deuteronomy 8:2-3). What is challenging about God’s way of discipleship versus what our culture tends to seek in terms of “influencing” or “modeling”? Where might God be inviting you to trust his “long way”?