In Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. (2 Corinthians 5:19-20)

In my senior year of seminary, as part of our final graduation requirements, we were asked to write an essay on our theology of Christian mission and how we understood the rationale for evangelism. (Yes, in those days, that was still considered important.)  I chose the verses above from 2 Corinthians, chapter 5, as the opening text for my essay -– only later to find out that all of the other students in my class had chosen to begin with Jesus’ Great Commission from Matthew 28 as their starting point.

Of course, I also recognize that Jesus’ call and charge to “make disciples of all nations…”is central to our understanding of the Gospel task. The Great Commission lays out clearly what our Lord expects of us in terms of evangelism and discipleship, and describes what mission we are called to as Christians. But beyond the “what” of mission, I find that the verses from 2 Corinthians also help me understand the “why.”

Here in Paul’s letter, Scripture not only lets us know that we are called to speak the gospel of Christ to our neighbor, it gives us an image for how and why God chose this method as his plan for reconciling the world to himself. God has chosen us to be his ambassadors – his own royal representatives – sent to engage the world in his name. When we speak on his behalf, God uses us and our words of reconciliation as the means by which his Reconciliation is made real in the lives of others.

As we have seen before in Scripture, these verses demonstrate the “sacramental” nature of our lives as disciples. God uses us as his living “means of grace” to convey his promise to the world. Just as ambassadors are empowered to make treaties in the name of the ruler who sends them, through his Word, spoken on our lips, God creates a relationship of faith with those he chooses to save. God has made us central to his own ministry and mission in the world.

To say that, “God is making his appeal through us,” not only reminds us of what our task is, it also gives us the promise that in pursuing the commission he has given us, we do so by his power. Ultimately, it is not we who do the reconciling, it is God himself.  In the chapter just before the one where Scripture refers to us as “Ambassadors for Christ,” the Apostle Paul reminds us that we are simply earthen vessels; the transforming power belongs to God (2 Corinthians 4:7). Recognizing this fact allows us to be honest with ourselves and others, not imagining that somehow we are the source of our own salvation or the salvation of others. Rather it makes us point to the One in whom our true reconciliation is found.

As his disciples, our Lord has called us out into the world to make a difference. Through us, the Lord calls people from their sin, puts to death the old Adam, and raises his saints to new life through his promise of mercy and forgiveness. God’s own grace is conveyed and the Holy Spirit is at work through us as earthly means.

God has chosen us for a purpose: that the promise of Christ would be realized through us in the lives of our neighbors. Just as it is in the Sacrament, he uses us to speak the forgiveness sins “for you” in bodily form. Our lives as disciples become the tools and instruments by which his relationship with others is built.

– Pastor Steve King

What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! (Luke 11:10-13)

This October, we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation (1517 – 2017). It seems appropriate to say a little about how Martin Luther reflected a sacramental understanding of discipleship in his teaching, as well as in his vocation as a husband and father.

It would not be an overstatement to say that all the theological teachings and reforms undertaken by Martin Luther had a pastoral concern for the life of everyday believers. He wanted people to be able to hear the Word of God, so that this Word would create and sustain their faith in Christ. Luther recognized that one of the most important places in which the Word has an opportunity to be spoken is within families. Luther wrote:

Most certainly father and mother are apostles, bishops and priests to their children, for it is they who make them acquainted with the gospel. For whoever teaches the gospel to another is truly his apostle and bishop. (Luther’s Works, Vol. 45, on “The Estate of Marriage”)

This emphasis on the vocation and role of parents as the primary communicators of faith is a significant one. Many who quote these words from Luther do so in the context of teaching, emphasizing the essential role of parents in catechizing their children in the home. This, of course, is certainly important. Sound Christian teaching begins in the home.

But in speaking of parents as “bishops and priests” to their children, Luther was also speaking of an even deeper pastoral role, highlighting the way that parents are in the position to communicate the very mercy and forgiveness of God in words of absolution.

Luther is well-known for teaching what we know as “the priesthood of all believers.” He taught that the ability to proclaim God’s forgiveness in Christ’s name is not something reserved only for ordained clergy, but is available to all Christ’s followers through the “mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren” (Smalcald Articles, Article IV).

According to Luther, genuine absolution is proclaimed among Christians not only in the confessional booth, but across the family kitchen table as well. As Jesus said, every father and mother knows how to give good gifts to their children. We know to give a fish is better than to give a snake, we know to give an egg rather than a scorpion (Luke 11:13). On a spiritual level, as people of faith, we recognize that the greatest gifts we can give each other are those that come by the Holy Spirit, as we speak words of comfort, mercy, and forgiveness to one another in the name of Christ.

Though all of us as sinners fall short of his will, God is able to work in us through his Holy Spirit to bring comfort, forgiveness, and reconciliation in our lives and in the lives of those we love. God gives us the opportunity to serve as instruments of his grace and mercy in our life together, in the name of Christ himself. Nowhere is this more true than in our everyday relationships as husbands and wives, parents and children, and friends and family.

As Luther said, this is our vocation – a calling from God himself. To see ourselves as God’s “means of grace” is to acknowledge that we are simply earthen vessels, the transcendent power belongs to God himself (2 Corinthians 4:7). Not only are we called to give and receive forgiveness from one another as human beings, we have the privilege of communicating God’s own grace and mercy. God wants us to speak to one another on his behalf.

Those who have read his personal writings know that Luther exemplified this calling in his own vocation as husband and father. Martin Luther has left us a legacy in which we understand that communicating the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the most important task we have as the Church. One of the most significant places we live out this calling is in our own homes and among our own families.

Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness. (Romans 6:13)

In Article 5 of the Augsburg Confession, when the first Lutherans describe how God works to instill and sustain faith in us as believers, they speak of Word and Sacrament as the tangible instruments God uses to do his work in us. They explain:

[God has] provided the Gospel and the sacraments; through these, as through means, he gives the Holy Spirit, who works faith, when and where he pleases, in those who hear the Gospel. (AC-5)

This understanding of how God uses “means” (instruments) to get his work done is one of the most important emphases in Lutheran theology. It reflects what we actually see in Holy Scripture, time and again, in the stories of deliverance and salvation found in both the Old Testament and the New.

For example, when God’s people were in bondage in Egypt, God used a burning bush as the means by which he revealed himself to Moses. God used Moses himself as his instrument, by sending him to the Pharoah to deliver his message, where by means of many plagues God secured the release of his people. At the Red Sea, God used the wind, water, fire, and mud not only as a means of delivering his people, but as the instruments of his judgment upon their enemies.

Again, in the New Testament, we see similar examples of God’s use of ”means.” From the spittle and mud that Jesus used to heal the blind man’s eyes, to the cross itself, which the Father made the instrument of our salvation from sin, God brings about his deliverance through the real things of this world which he has chosen to accomplish his purpose.

The Apostle Paul learned this lesson first hand in the experience that made him a disciple of Christ (Acts 9). In a flash of light and word of the risen Christ, Paul was called on the road to Damascus; and in the healing hand of Ananias and the scales that fell from his eyes, Paul experienced a taste of both the cost and blessing of discipleship. Through these means, God made Paul himself into a living means of grace, saying: “he is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel” (Acts 9:15).

It is not surprising that when Paul later spoke of our everyday lives as disciples of Christ, he used the same biblical language of instrument and means:

Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness. (Romans 6:13)

Like he did with Paul, God intends to use us as his instruments for righteousness. That is to say, God desires to use us as his “tools” for making things right – both in the world at large and in the lives of our neighbors. God has set us apart in faith, so that he may accomplish his work of salvation and deliverance through us.

This is our “sacramental” discipleship: to know and understand that God has a purpose for us, and that God has chosen to use us as his means of grace. It is through us as his disciples – the body of Christ — that God conveys his promise of salvation to a dark and hurting world. As those who have been brought from death to life, the Holy Spirit uses us the living instruments through which he carries out his divine work of faith.

– Rev. Steve King

In John, chapter 9, we hear the story of when Jesus healed a man born blind, and how he was questioned by the Pharisees who would not believe. In the midst of this confrontation, the issue of discipleship is raised.

The Pharisees said to the man: “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I have told you already, and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?” And they reviled him, saying, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses.” (John 9:26-28)

One of the things often overlooked in the discussion of discipleship and Jesus’ great commission to “make disciples of all nations…” (Matt 28:19) is the question of whose disciples we are talking about. There are many teachers and many guides that people look to, learn from, and follow. For example, Scripture itself speaks not only of the disciples of Moses, but also the disciples of the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist, in contrast to the disciples of Jesus (e.g. Mark 2:18).

Simply put, to refer to someone as a “disciple” does not necessarily mean that person is a believer or follower of Christ. The Pharisees in the verses above made it clear that they understood themselves to be disciples. They were, in fact, dedicated students who sought to follow the teachings of the Law and the tradition of the scribes. But they had no interest in becoming followers of Jesus.

It may seem obvious to say, but the distinction is important. When Jesus spoke of our calling to “disciple” others, he meant that we engage in helping others become his disciples.  We are not simply called to encourage others to become generically religious, nor are we called to lay out a regimen of spiritual disciplines for others to follow – as if there were no difference in being a disciple of Moses or a disciple of Jesus. Being a follower of Jesus is more than simply striving to live by a higher moral standard in our religious life; it has to do with the trust of our heart in what Christ has done for us. As Scripture says:

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. (John 1:16-17)

The Pharisees recognized that there was a difference between them and this man who had been healed of his blindness. They said, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses.” And in this observation, they were right. The man who had formerly been blind was not set apart by his obedience to the law, by his moralistic lifestyle, nor by his proficiency in spiritual disciplines. Rather, this man was set apart in his knowledge and trust in what Jesus had done for him. He had been the recipient of God’s grace through Jesus Christ.

In the same way, this story gives us a glimpse into how our Christian discipleship is different from discipleship in general. As followers of Christ, we look not to ourselves and our lives as the measure of our faith – we look to our Master and Lord, Jesus Christ, as the one who determines our identity. And just as the man in the story still had much to learn about Jesus, our lives of discipleship are shaped by the continuing revelation of what Christ has done – and is doing – each day of our lives.

– Rev. Steven King

In this article series over the past year, we have been looking at the subject of Discipleship through the specific lens of a sacramental Lutheran perspective, in the belief that our faith tradition has important contributions to make to the larger conversation about Christian discipleship that is happening in the Church today.  In particular, the Lutheran emphases on the believer as “simultaneously saint and sinner,” the recognition that God chooses to work through natural means, and the importance of proclaiming Christ’s forgiveness in everyday life, are key to this perspective. In other words, we are simply asking the question of what it would look like if the faith and logic of the sacraments were applied to our life as disciples of Jesus.

To give an example, consider the following excerpt from Luther’s Small Catechism, where he speaks of God’s promise at work in the Sacrament of Holy Communion. Luther asks the question about the Lord’s Supper, saying: “How can the bodily eating and drinking produce such great benefits?” He answers in this way:

It is not the eating and drinking alone, but also the words that accompany it, “Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.” These words, together with the eating and drinking, are the chief thing in the Sacrament, and those who believe them have what they say and declare, namely, the forgiveness of sins.
(Luther’s Small Catechism – 2010 Version, Sola Publishing)

In this short passage, Luther says a lot about how we understand the way in which God works in our lives. First he makes it clear that works alone (in this case, eating and drinking) do not have saving power by themselves.  It is not because we engage in outward acts of piety or worship that we earn or merit God’s grace.  That happens by faith alone, through the power of the Holy Spirit at work in God’s Word. Our faith rests in the “chief thing” – that is, in the promise of Christ himself.

At the same time, Luther shows how the promise of Christ is communicated through real things – simple human words and actions that God uses as means to create faith in us and through us. Seen in the proper order and direction, we understand that our human works are not the means by which we obtain God’s grace and mercy, but the means by which we give these gifts to others.  As Luther once observed, “God does not need our good works; but our neighbor does!” By its very nature, faithful discipleship is not a self-directed effort, but always points outward.

To apply this same sacramental principle to Discipleship is to see our lives of faith not as an effort to attain some status for ourselves, but rather as a means of grace by which Christ is brought into the lives of others.

This is why “discipleship” and “making disciples” go together. It is also why person-to-person relationships are so important to sharing the faith. Because God himself works through us — in the works we do, the words we say, the effort we exert, and all the disciplines by which we live in Christ — we serve as his instruments in bringing the Gospel to all the world… including the little world in which we live our daily lives.

– Rev. Steven E. King

So that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus … by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God. (Ephesians 2:7-8a)

The Apostle Paul speaks in these verses of the grace and kindness of God, by which he has saved us and through which he continues to transform our lives in Christ. This forward-looking promise recognizes that God is opening up a new future for us each day. In our daily lives of faith, our Lord is driving us forward to the coming ages where his kingdom will be fulfilled in us. As Paul says, the riches of God’s grace are “immeasurable.”

Yet, unfortunately, there is something in us as human beings that wants to measure. As sinners, born under the law, we suffer from a persistent need to know how well we are doing. We want to measure our progress and gauge our success, even in spiritual matters. This is especially true in relation to others. Like the Pharisee in the temple who prayed, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men …” (Luke 18:11), it is easy for us to fall for the appealing lure of human merit, taking pride in the advances we have made in faith and the accomplishments we have achieved in our lives as Christians.

In the Church today, you see this phenomena in many discussions of Christian Discipleship. Too often, talk of discipleship centers around our progress in disciplines — all of which may be very good things. Do I pray more than I used to? How am I keeping up with daily reading of Scripture? Have I demonstrated a witness that lets others know I am a Christian?  Of course, all these ways we practice the faith are essential to discipleship. But are they really a “measure” of discipleship?

When Jesus told the parable of the mustard seed in Luke 13:18-19, he spoke of the smallest of seeds which would one day become the largest of shrubs. Yet, he makes no mention of personal progress. Nowhere is the mustard plant encouraged to measure itself, as if its growth were a personal achievement. Rather, the parable conveys the promise of a God who gives the growth.

God says: “As the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:10-11)

What if it were true, as Scripture says it is, that our life of faith is “not our own doing; it is the gift of God”?  What if this grace that God bestows is truly something that we cannot measure? What would that look like in our lives as Christians?

When is comes to Discipleship, how might we talk about our lives as followers of Christ, not in terms of personal achievement and spiritual progress, but in terms of the promise and faithfulness of God? Perhaps it is in only giving up our desire to “measure” our faith as disciples that we truly get to experience “the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:7).

– Rev. Steven E. King

What does Baptism mean for daily living? It means that our sinful self, with all its evil deeds and desires, should be drowned through daily repentance, that day after day, a new self should arise to live with God in righteousness and purity forever.  (Luther’s Small Catechism)

For many Christians today, it is a sad fact that Baptism has little or no meaning for daily living in faith.  Even for those who talk much about Baptism, or include reference to it in much of their religious language, Baptism seems to have little practical connection to the life of discipleship – at least, not in the way that Luther describes it above.

For example, in the traditional liturgy for weekly worship, one of the places in the service where “death to self and rising to new life” was more clearly proclaimed was in the Order for Confession and Forgiveness. But for many, even this was considered an “optional” part of their regular encounter with God.

In some recent hymnals, an alternative to confession and absolution has been provided in what is called a rite of Thanksgiving for Baptism. The congregation is led to praise God for the “gifts of Baptism” and being “clothed with mercy and forgiveness”* — without any reference to sin and without mentioning any reason for which we, as individuals, are in need of God’s mercy and forgiveness. Baptism is treated as little more than a stamp in one’s heavenly passport, a past event that has nothing to do with the daily struggle against sin.

On the other extreme, many among the churches of evangelical Protestantism tend to dismiss the Sacraments altogether. Treated as little more than quaint human ceremonies where God is merely a spectator, the Sacraments are not seen as having any real meaning for one’s personal life of discipleship on a day to day basis.

Luther taught something quite different from either of these views. He understood from the Scriptures that the Sacraments are means through which God acts in our lives – not just on a one-time basis, as a past event, but as a divine Word which invades our lives, on a day-by-day, hour-by-hour, and minute-by-minute basis. The promise of Baptism, and its meaning for our everyday lives, is more than simply getting the title of disciple, but doing the job of a disciple.

Baptism is more than just an event we recall from our past, it actually means something in our present day life of faith. Baptism means that God is at work putting us to death each day through repentance and lifting us up again by his grace, so that we may truly die to sin and live to Christ alone (Romans 6). It is in this way and for this reason that God himself “disciples us” daily through our Baptism in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (Matthew 28) and teaches us to actually engage in a life of discipleship, led by his Word.

– Rev. Steven E. King

* Evangelical Lutheran Worship, p.97

The Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. (Romans 8:26b-27)

When we hear the phrase “daily devotions,” one of the first things that we may think of are those little devotional booklets that many of us use on a daily basis. Most of these follow a similar pattern, with a quotation from Scripture followed by a brief homiletic reflection, then closing with a prayer. Such resources can serve a good purpose, and are readily available. We are used to such a pattern.

Ironically, when Martin Luther gave his advice on developing a biblical life of prayer, he did not use this familiar format. You might even say that he turned things completely around. In his Preface to the Wittenberg Edition of Luther’s German Writings (1539), Luther provided a simple format for approaching Scripture that reverses the familiar pattern we are used to. Luther described his own three-fold approach. In Latin, the terms he used were Oratio (praying), Meditatio (listening), and Tentatio (struggling).

For Luther, prayer was not an end, but the foundational place where our devotional life begins. As disciples, we call upon God to be the speaker. We ask him to open our ears, hearts, and minds to his Word. We begin by praying that “the Spirit himself would intercede for us,” as Scripture says, that what will follow would be God’s doing in us.

Only then do we approach the biblical text.  For Luther, to “meditate” on the text was not simply to learn about the text, as we might do in a Bible Study group. Neither is “meditation” simply what it is in eastern religions, where people center on their own inner mindfulness. Rather, for Luther, biblical meditation has to do with listening carefully to the words of Scripture, in the confidence that God is actually speaking to us.

Lastly, Luther described the final step: Tentatio. This word is a tough one to translate. It means to “struggle” or “wrestle with”– it can even be translated as “suffering.” Luther assumed that if God indeed is at work on us through his Word, such an experience will not necessarily be pleasant. Like a mighty Potter working raw clay, God pokes and prods us through his Word, squeezing and shaping us into the vessel of faith that he would have us be. We should expect this process to elicit “groanings” from us, just as Scripture promises.

It is this final piece that is Luther’s greatest insight into what a life of daily devotion is like, and it is central to our understanding of what makes discipleship “sacramental.” This is what Luther meant by “daily dying and rising in Christ” – to experience the crushing grasp of the law while at the same time being reformed and renewed by the gospel. This how God himself justifies and sanctifies each one of us in faith and makes us his disciples.

– Rev. Steven E. King

They said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be scattered across the face of the whole earth.”  (Genesis 11:4)

The Tower of Babel story from the Book of Genesis always reminds me of my attempts as a child to build the highest skyscraper I could, using Lego building bricks. No matter how high the tower, inevitably, it would come crashing down. Fortunately, I never believed that my value and purpose in the eyes of God depended on how high a tower I could build.

When some people talk about Christian discipleship, however, it is that same tower that comes to mind. By many, the life of discipleship is understood to be a matter of adding spiritual disciplines, one upon another, in an attempt to build our own towers of faith – and thereby, “making a name for ourselves” in the eyes of God and our neighbors.

But in the Scriptures, Jesus breaks this “builder” paradigm and brings us back down to earth. Discipleship, in a biblical sense, is not about working our way up to God, but recognizing that God, in Christ, has come down to us. The direction is not up, but down.

In Lego terms, real discipleship is when the Father comes to sit down on the floor filled with blocks, to build for his children. He invites us to participate in his project, rather than simply to play on our own. His work is collaborative, with each member of the body being added to his creation as a new brick. As Scripture says, “You yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 2:5).

Instead of towers, God builds us into vehicles – things that move – because his goal is to get us moving by faith!  We are a “holy priesthood” as Scripture says.  We become the cars and planes and boats that carry the promise of Christ and his forgiveness to suffering and hurting people, the very “vehicles” through which God acts in the lives of others.

Ironically, God often does his best work in the “scattering” rather than the “building.” He leads us out into the world in service to our neighbor – not to make a name for ourselves, but to give glory to His name. Through our acts of faith and service, we build no towers.  But we do get to take part in delivering His promise to a world in need of the Gospel.

– Rev. Steven E. King