“Jesus turned and saw [two disciples] following him, and He said to them, ‘What are you seeking?’ And they said to Him, ‘Rabbi,’ (which means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and you will see.’”
It was an invitation into His life, and one that would change the whole course of theirs.
They were students seeking out a good teacher. They would find that He was so much more.
Understanding this ancient tradition of aligning with a particular Rabbi took my American mind some adjustment. It was a form of higher education in which a student became like his teacher by observing how he lived and adopting the principles which governed his actions.
In THIS excellent opinion piece for World Magazine, Erika Andersen recently wrote, “Too many women are still being discipled by the algorithm, and it shows.”
It made me pause and ask the question, “What am I being discipled by?”
What am I following? What absorbs my time and attention?
It’s a startling question, but the answer was worse.
I’m being discipled by the news cycle, my substack feed, and Emma M. Lion. Not the Bee, my friend who likes to rant, and my other friend who is into conspiracy theories have a voice too. When I wake up, I look at the weather and the news, but am I intentional about being discipled by God’s Word?
Am I allowing these voices to take the place of the discipleship I should be getting at church?
More importantly, am I missing the opportunity to disciple others, causing them to drift to YouTube, FaceBook, or Forums of all stripes to be informed about life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, and eternity?
Andersen’s solution? “Christian women need discipleship rooted in real communities, accountable relationships, and a robust moral imagination, one capable of holding compassion and truth together.”
We need the church. We are the church, and the church is the body of disciples following our Rabbi, Jesus, but if we’re following everything else, we don’t want to incur the cost of discipling others.
A young woman in my church could scroll instagram for ideas about baking, or I could say to her, “Come and see.”
Another woman in my church might look to Twitter to answer her questions about prophecy and the Book of Revelation, or I could say to her, “Come and see.”
A girl in my church might go text an AI bot about problems with bullies at school, or I could say to her, “Come and see.”
Inviting others into our lives is costly.
My young son wanted to help me cook for a church potluck meal the other day. I knew it would be costly. He spilled grease while stirring the hamburger and dispersed crumbs all over the kitchen. However, we talked about Jesus feeding the 5,000 while we worked. He asked questions and told me his thoughts. We wondered together what that bread and fish tasted like.
When we were finished, he was proud of the work we’d done, and so was I. The discipleship was worth the cost.
Sarah Dixon Young 