Practicing the Way: Be with Jesus. Become like him. Do as he did.

by John Mark Comer

You are learning to be joyful, even when you don’t get what you want. You are practicing suffering and, through it, increasing your capacity for joy in all circumstances.

There are all sorts of ways to read Scripture—slowly and prayerfully, all alone (a practice called “Lectio Divina”), out loud in large swaths with our community (how most of Scripture was designed to be experienced), in deep study in a classroom, while sitting under teaching or preaching in church, through memorization, and more.[47] All work together to fill, form, and free our minds.

Our deepest wounds come from relationships, and yet, so does our deepest healing.

You think you’re there to help others, but you quickly realize you’re the one being helped. You’re being set free of your ego, your entitlement, your self-obsession. When you serve in the Way of Jesus, the lines blur between servant and served, giver and recipient. Both give, and both receive. Dignity is restored in one; freedom won in the other.

Then Jesus quietly says this: “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you….Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.”

Again, our role isn’t to “convert” anyone, but it is to preach—to tell others the good news of Jesus, through the practice of witness.

To do this, we must become a people of hospitality in a culture of hostility. We must embody and extend the love, welcome, warmth, and generosity of the inner life of God.[55] We must open our homes, our tables, and our lives to “the last, the least, and the lost.”

Because to craft a Rule, you have to be very honest about where you are in your discipleship and what you’re capable of in this season. You must name your limits—emotionally, relationally, even spiritually—and from there determine what you honestly can do, and then, let that be enough.

Let me say it again: Following Jesus is not about doing more, but doing less. It’s tempting to make your Rule of Life a list of things to do—and that’s not all bad. But for most of us, it’s just as important, if not more so, to focus on what we’re not going to do, to build margin into the architecture of our lives.

Most people hear the phrase spiritual disciplines and think of the alone/abstinence quadrant, but the community/engagement dimension is just as important.

He categorized nine spiritual temperaments, each with its own unique pathway to God: Naturalists: loving God in nature and the outdoors Sensates: loving God with the senses—candles, incense, materials, and so on Traditionalists: loving God through ritual, symbolism, and liturgy

Ascetics: loving God in solitude and self-denial Activists: loving God by fighting injustice Caregivers: loving God by caring for those in need Enthusiasts: loving God with music and dance and celebration Contemplatives: loving God through quiet adoration Intellectuals: loving God with the mind

No one of these is better than the others. Tragically, we humans tend to moralize our preferences, which can cause great harm to others who are different from us. The church tradition you grew up in or were saved into may have emphasized one or two dominant pathways that are different from your preferred approach to God. To grow, you may need to expand your horizon of possibility and explore new pathways to God.

Each one is necessary and healthy. Eventually, as you mature, you will inevitably face what the ancients called the “dark night of the soul”—a season where the practices don’t “work” like they are supposed to. You still practice them, but you don’t feel the same connection to God. That’s part of the journey.

few days ago, someone asked me, “How do I overcome pride?” I thought for a quick minute, then recommended they practice community, serving, and solitude; these are the three best disciplines I know to partner with God to cultivate a spirit of humility.

Or you may love a little quiet in the morning while you drink your coffee but have all sorts of painful emotions come up when you attempt solitude, silence, and stillness.

We must come to realize that following Jesus is the main point of life. To borrow a term from the world of activism, it’s about centering Jesus, making him the dominant voice over your own.

Surrender is the foundation of the spiritual life. One of my favorite definitions of discipleship is “a lifelong process of deepening surrender to Jesus.”[9] This, this alone, is the ground on which a life of apprenticeship to Jesus is built, as Jesus himself said at the end of his Sermon on the Mount: All others are houses built on sand.

apprentice of Jesus has no other will than the will of God. Your flesh may war against you, and the habits of sin in your “body of death”[12] may sabotage your best intentions. Your “heart may fail”[13] under the emotional weight of life, but your will is not in question; your will is devoted to Jesus.

Of course, the great paradox of Christian spirituality is that it’s in dying that we live, it’s in losing our (false) self that we discover our (true) self, and it’s in giving up our desires that our deepest desires are finally sated.

Willard was once asked how to become a saint. He answered, “By doing the next right thing.”

A Rule of Life from Practicing the Way A community of rest in a culture of hurry and exhaustion, through the practice of Sabbath. A community of peace and quiet in a culture of anxiety and noise, through the practice of solitude. A community of communion with God in a culture of distraction and escapism, through the practice of prayer. A community of love and depth in a culture of individualism and superficiality, through the practice of community. A community of courageous fidelity to orthodoxy in a culture of ideological compromise, through the practice of Scripture. A community of holiness in a culture of indulgence and immorality, through the practice of fasting.

A community of contentment in a culture of consumerism, through the practice of generosity. A community of justice, mercy, and reconciliation in a culture of injustice and division, through the practice of service. A community of hospitality in a culture of hostility, through the practice of witness.