“You have many teachers, but few fathers.”[1] These sober words from the early apostle who fathered so many discipleship communities are perhaps the clearest window into grief he felt, as he carried his “children” in his heart, mind, prayers, and gut.[2] I wonder if he would say the same of us today; perhaps we are full of figures who want to be voices, who like to be heard and obeyed, but will not run into the burning building to pull their audience out. Figures who will not wake up at three in the morning to hold a hungry child, graciously tolerate the immature screams of infancy, and tenderly wipe the mess when the baby inevitably throws up all over his clothes.
It is one thing to instruct a child how to ride a bike, how to apologize, how to play, how to pray—it is quite another to get into life with them to walk them into maturity. Teachers talk. Fathers shape the trajectory of a child’s life; and if they’re responsible, they’re around for much of it. They’re there for the shiny moments. They’re there for the devastating crises. They’re there for the in-between.
This paternal proximity could allow Paul to give audacious advice like “Imitate me as I imitate Jesus.”[3] This kind of parenting is as costly as it is inconvenient. It requires a nearly reckless advocacy for your child’s greatest good—“My little children, for whom I labor in pain until Christ is formed in you”[4]—that can best sum up a life spent with these words: “I am like a drink offering poured out for your sake.”[5]
Paul’s sacrificial life as an apostle could be traced in replication back to Jesus, because he was following the example of the One who has to lower Himself to look at the stars,[6] but took on the responsibilities reserved for house slaves anyway:
“He laid aside His outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around His waist. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around Him.”[7] This radical display of servitude in Jesus’ final hours with His friends before His arrest rested in His own confidence in Himself and the Father’s commitment to Him: “…Jesus, knowing the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside His outer garments….”[8] Before He left the upper room, before He went to the Garden, before He yielded to the mob who arrested Him, before He allowed Pilate to interrogate Him, before He permitted Roman lashes to strip His back, Jesus used His final hours as a free Man to serve and encourage the young men He had raised and trained and discipled and shaped for years. And He cast vision for the “good works prepared beforehand”[9] He would soon commission them into: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in Me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these he will do, because I am going to the Father.”[10]
Greater works than these.
I wonder if we approach our relationships and leadership positions as parents instead of teachers; if we are willing to invest in the days of snotty noses and ego and bombast—think of Simon Peter’s early days—to raise a young man or woman into maturity, such that they are released and supported to do “greater things” than we do. Does that threaten us? Are we beholden to our own egos? Do we contribute to Paul’s old grief, that the nursery is full of infants led by a bunch of adults who squander their opportunity to parent so they can take the easier road of teaching instead? Do we “lay aside” our classy clothes to get into the dirt on the floor and wash stinky, filthy feet? My guess is if we are serving as “disciple-makers”[11] in a way that doesn’t cost us our sleep at night or the cleanliness of our clothes, or singe our eyebrows as we run into crises, we’re doing it wrong. My guess is we are merely “clanging gongs.”[12]
The “bride made ready”[13] at Jesus’ appearing is a worldwide body of believers brought into maturity through the hell and high water preceding His return. The Spirit says, “Come, Jesus!” and she agrees.[14] She’s very wisely used her numbered days in this age to get the oil required to keep a lamp lit,[15] and borne a worthy witness of her King to those perishing around her. She’s preached the Gospel of the Kingdom. She’s “compelled many” to come to the wedding banquet.[16] She’s functioned in the “greater things” He ordained for her—because He loves well with the kind of love that sees and believes all the best things, carrying her into the maturity required to steward eternity.
As we make disciples, may we “have this mind in us also,”[17] and pour ourselves out for those around us.
Stephanie Quick (@quicklikesand) is a writer/producer serving with FAI. She lives in the Golan Heights and cohosts The Better Beautiful podcast with Jeff Henderson. Browse her free music, films, and books in the FAI App and at stephaniequick.org.
[1] 1 Corinthians 4:15
[2] Galatians 4:19
[3] 1 Corinthians 11:1
[4] Galatians 4:19
[5] Philippians 2:17
[6] Psalm 113:6
[7] John 13:4-5
[8] John 13:3
[9] Ephesians 2:10
[10] John 14:12
[11] Matthew 28:18-20
[12] 1 Corinthians 13:1
[13] Revelation 19:7
[14] Revelation 22:17
[15] Matthew 25:1-13
[16] Matthew 22:9-10
[17] Philippians 2:5
