In 1987 I was a young seminary student in Chicago.  Each of us was assigned an advisor to help make decisions about what classes we would take and the choices that would determine the direction and focus of our course of study.   As a result, I found myself sitting with Dr. Robert Coleman, face to face across the desk in his little office.  I remember feeling somewhat in awe of him as I had read some of his books and had heard stories about the strength and uniqueness of his personality.  I also remember that he didn’t seem very concerned about my choice of courses, but instead was intent on having me come and join a small group of students that he led in prayer in the early mornings.  Although I had many other interactions with Bob during my time there at Trinity, for whatever reason, I never saw fit to become a member of what I now realize was his personal band of disciples.  In all honesty, I’m still kicking myself for not taking advantage of this incredible opportunity.  Instead of availing myself for a relationship with Dr. Coleman, for the next several years, I spent most of my time doing what I apparently deemed more important… vocational ministry.  What a knucklehead!

Although I’m sure serving as a pastor during that period of my life produced some good fruit for me personally and hopefully in the lives of a few others, I wish I had seen the value in being discipled by the guy who, in my opinion, literally wrote the definitive work on discipleship.  To this day, Dr. Coleman’s “Master Plan of Evangelism” stands head and shoulders above all other books written on the topic of how to make disciples.  Had I understood then what I do now, I would have jumped at the chance of sitting at his feet, and not just sitting there listening passively in his classes.

In the next reformation, we have to somehow recapture the vital nature of discipleship and spiritual parenting as it pertains to accomplishing the ultimate objective of the local church.  We can get so busy doing other “church stuff” that we lose sight of what is, for all practical purposes, the fundamental reason for our being left here on earth.  Think about it, Jesus said that our lives should be given to loving God and loving our neighbor.  Could we not accomplish the first half of that equation more completely if we were whisked away to heaven right after being saved?  In his manifest presence we will be entirely consumed by his love.  So it stands to reason that we remain in this realm primarily for the sake of others.

Recently, while shopping at the local mall with my wife, I was approached by a young teenage girl with a “bible tract” in her hand.  She was with an older lady and another girl about her age.  It was obvious to me that they were out “evangelizing” and I apparently looked like a promising candidate.  She said nothing to me, but offered me the little tract as she walked on by with the other two without ever breaking her stride.  I took the pamphlet and said “thanks” as I saw a look of relief come over her face.  It was as if she was saying, “There.  I’ve done it!”  After reading its contents, my heart just sank.  Like most of the publications of this genre, I was quickly reminded of what a complete wretch I am and how I was bound for eternal torment if I didn’t get my act together pronto.   Page after page of cute little illustrations depicting what a total loser I was, all supported with scripture of course.  I thought to myself, well… so much for the “good” news.

As the years roll by, I find myself becoming more and more of a pragmatist.  I’ve wasted way too much time on methodologies and good ideas that simply haven’t worked.  No matter how far away I might roam, I always seem to come back to this simple truth, the greatest impact of our life will be made one person at a time.  The great commission will not be fulfilled programmatically, but rather in the context of personal relationships.

Many years ago I had an experience that will forever illustrate this revelation in my thinking.  We were leading a ministry that was experiencing nothing short of a modern-day revival.  I’m not talking about a bunch of meetings where a gaggle of believers get all hyped up for Jesus.  We actually were seeing spontaneous salvation and deliverance taking place among many of the lost and addicted young people of our city.  The Lord was doing something far beyond our efforts or understanding, and we found ourselves scrambling to try to hire staff and to find people to take care of all the new believers that were coming to our church.  At that time, our Sunday morning service was gaining a reputation for being one of the best shows in town.   The atmosphere was very informal, the building we were meeting in was virtually devoid of religious icons and artifacts, and we had a really tight rock band leading our worship.  Our overall vibe was very lively and light-hearted, a great first experience for many of those who were new to the practice of “going to church.”

At the end of one of our services, I asked for anyone who wanted to give their life to the Lord for the first time to come to the front of the auditorium.  I don’t remember how many came forward that morning, but it was a good number.  We led them all in the prayer of salvation and then concluded the service.  As was our routine, we asked the group of new believers to follow us back to one of our smaller rooms at the back of the building.  Once gathered, I said a few words and we began to hand out bibles to those standing side by side, all facing inward in a big circle.  Suddenly and without warning, I burst into what can only be described as uncontrollable weeping.  I’m not exaggerating, I completely lost it.  Here I was, trying to say something profound and comforting to this wide eyed group of new believers, and I self imploded right in front of them.  So much so that I had to quickly hand the meeting off to one of the other staff members so I could go hide in my office.

As I waited for the building to clear out so as not to frighten anyone with my disheveled appearance, I began to ask, “What the heck was that Lord?  These aren’t tears of joy, I feel like I’m dying here!”  It made no sense to me that I was so grieved over what is supposed to be such a joyous occasion.  Maybe the angels were rejoicing, but I was overcome with quite the opposite emotion.  On the drive home, the Lord reminded me of how sad it is when irresponsible men impregnate young women only to leave them once the child is born.  In an instant, I understood what had happened to me in that back room.  Somehow, I had been allowed to feel just a small portion of the Lord’s heart for spiritual orphans.  We had just created another fresh batch of babies, and I knew there was no way we were going to be able to adequately take care of them.  We had only a handful of relatively mature believers in our ministry, and even fewer who were actively trying to disciple anyone.  My wife and I had been meeting with a small group of new believers in our home, but I knew our ability to provide any kind of individualized care was completely maxed out as it was.

Everyone knows that making babies is always going to be fun.  It’s exciting and enjoyable.  But taking care of those babies we’ve made is quite the opposite.  It’s hard work.  It requires personal sacrifice, an unwavering commitment, and a relentless consistency to raise a child to the point of self sufficiency.  So it is with spiritual parenting.  In the local church, we often take great pride in the number of babies we’ve made.  But I have to wonder how many of them have been virtually abandoned shortly after birth?  In our pursuit of “getting people saved,” how many spiritual orphans have we created?

For though you have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet you do not have many fathers… 1Co 4:15

In the next reformation, church leaders must somehow prioritize the value of spiritual parenting and discipleship.  So many believers seem to remain in perpetual spiritual immaturity for the simple reason that so few are willing to invest in the kind of up close and personal relationships that Jesus clearly modeled for us in the Gospels.  If your church’s evangelism mentality is all about getting people to make a decision, so you can quickly move on to the next person, and so on, then it may be time for a new paradigm.  If you’re mantra is, “some will, some won’t, who cares, who’s next?” you might be under estimating the length of process that most people go through when searching for truth.

Dr. Coleman used to look out over us as promising seminary students and exclaim, “It’s good that you’re planning to enter the ministry, now where are your men?”  That question has been ringing in my ears ever since.  Where are your men?  Whose life are you intentionally investing in right now?  Is anyone counting on you for care, or guidance, or prayer support?  If we fancy our self a spiritual leader and we’re not really that involved in the lives of any specific individuals,  it might be time for a gut check.   Are we really in the ministry, or just in denial?

Or maybe you’re not in a leadership position in your church, but you know you’ve been a Christian long enough that you could be helping others along their way.  Sometimes, if you want to know who to lead, all you have to do is turn around and see who’s already following you.  Maybe it’s your kids.  Maybe it’s a co-worker who you know listens to what you say.  It’s usually not about going out and trying to find someone to disciple.  Spiritual parenting often begins with a simple decision to be a bit more intentional with the relationships we’ve already established.  Take the time to read The Master Plan of Evangelism.  I think now it’s actually called the Master Plan of Discipleship.  The question is not “What Would Jesus Do?” but rather, “What Did Jesus Do?” while he was here with us.  The answer is painfully obvious, he made disciples, and he commissioned us to do the same.

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