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Merely because we are busy, or even skilled, at doing something does not necessarily mean that we are getting anything accomplished. The question must always be asked: Is it worth doing? And does it get the job done?
Are our efforts to keep things going fulfilling the great commission of Christ?
No one was excluded from his precious purpose. His love was universal. Make no mistake about it. He was “the Saviour of the world” (John 4:42). God wanted all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. To that end Jesus gave himself to provide a salvation from all sin for all men. In that he died for one, he died for all. Contrary to our superficial thinking, there never was a distinction in his mind between home and foreign missions. To Jesus it was all world evangelism.
His life was ordered by his objective. Everything he did and said was a part of the whole pattern. It had significance because it contributed to the ultimate purpose of his life in redeeming the world for God.
His steps were ordered by it. Mark it well. Not for one moment did Jesus lose sight of his goal.
It all started by Jesus calling a few men to follow him. This revealed immediately the direction his evangelistic strategy would take. His concern was not with programs to reach the multitudes, but with men whom the multitudes would follow. Remarkable as it may seem, Jesus started to gather these men before he ever organized an evangelistic campaign or even preached a sermon in public. Men were to be his method of winning the world to God.
In short, these men selected by the Lord to be his assistants represented an average cross section of society in their day. Not the kind of group one would expect to win the world for Christ. Yet Jesus saw in these simple men the potential of leadership for the Kingdom.
Such men, pliable in the hands of the Master, could be molded into a new image—Jesus can use anyone who wants to be used.
One cannot transform a world except as individuals in the world are transformed, and individuals cannot be changed except as they are molded in the hands of the Master. The necessity is apparent not only to select a few helpers but also to keep the group small enough to be able to work effectively with them.
The fact that there is no record of the disciples complaining about the preeminence of the three, though they did murmur about other things, is proof that where preference is shown in the right spirit and for the right reason, offense need not arise.
It also graphically illustrates a fundamental principle of teaching: that other things being equal, the more concentrated the size of the group being taught, the greater the opportunity for effective instruction.
Jesus devoted most of his remaining life on earth to these few disciples. He literally staked his whole ministry on them. The world could be indifferent toward him and still not defeat his strategy.
In every way possible Jesus manifested to the masses of humanity a genuine concern. These were the people whom he came to save—he loved them, wept over them, and finally died to save them from their sin. No one could think that Jesus shirked mass evangelism.
The answer to this question focuses at once on the real purpose of his plan for evangelism. Jesus was not trying to impress the crowd, but to usher in a kingdom. This meant that he needed people who could lead the multitudes.
Jesus was a realist. He fully realized the fickleness of depraved human nature as well as the satanic forces of this world amassed against humanity, and in this knowledge he based his evangelism on a plan that would meet the need.
Though he did what he could to help the multitudes, he had to devote himself primarily to a few men, rather than the masses, so that the masses could at last be saved. This was the genius of his strategy.
Surely if the pattern of Jesus at this point means anything at all, it teaches that the first duty of a church leadership is to see to it that a foundation is laid in the beginning on which can be built an effective and continuing evangelistic ministry to the multitudes.
This will require more concentration of time and talents on fewer people in the church while not neglecting the passion for the world.
A few people so dedicated in time will shake the world for God. Victory is never won by the multitudes.
Everything that is done with the few is for the salvation of the multitudes.
They are a modern-day example of what Jesus demonstrated so clearly in his day: that the multitudes can be won easily if they are just given leaders to follow.
Anyone who is willing to follow Christ can become a mighty influence on the world providing, of course, this person has the proper training.
We must decide where we want our ministry to count—in the momentary applause of popular recognition or in the reproduction of our lives in a few chosen people who will carry on our work after we have gone.
Having called his men, Jesus made a practice of being with them. This was the essence of his training program—just letting his disciples follow him.
He was his own school and curriculum.
In his presence they could learn all that they needed to know.
In fact, this personal appointment to be in constant association with him was as much a part of their ordination commission as the authority to evangelize.
Contrary to what one might expect, as the ministry of Christ lengthened into the second and third years he gave increasingly more time to the chosen disciples, not less.
Fully half of all that is recorded about Jesus happened in the last months of his life, and most of this in the last week.
He actually spent more time with his disciples than with everybody else in the world put together. He ate with them, slept with them, and talked with them for the most part of his entire active ministry.
In this manner, Jesus’ time was paying double dividends. Without neglecting his regular ministry to those in need, he maintained a constant ministry to his disciples by having them with him. They were thus getting the benefit of everything he said and did to others plus their own personal explanation and counsel.
Such close and constant association, of course, meant that Jesus had virtually no time to call his own.
They were his spiritual children (Mark 10:24; John 13:33; 21:5), and the only way that a father can properly raise a family is to be with it.
It would be wrong to assume, however, that this principle of personal follow-up was confined only to the apostolic band. Jesus concentrated on these few chosen men, but also manifested concern for others who followed him.
All of these believers received some personal attention, but it could not be compared to that given to the Twelve.
When will the church learn this lesson? Preaching to the masses, although necessary, will never suffice in the work of preparing leaders for evangelism. Nor can occasional prayer meetings and training classes for Christian workers do this job. Building men and women is not that easy. It requires constant personal attention, much like a father gives to his children. This is something that no organization or class can ever do. Children are not raised by proxy. The example of Jesus would teach us that it can be done only by persons staying close to those whom they seek to lead.
Unless new Christians, if indeed they are saved, have parents or friends who will fill the gap in a real way, they are left entirely on their own to find the solutions to innumerable practical problems confronting their lives, any one of which could mean disaster to their new faith.
There is simply no substitute for getting with people, and it is ridiculous to imagine that anything less, short of a miracle, can develop strong Christian leadership. After all, if Jesus, the Son of God, found it necessary to stay almost constantly with his few disciples for three years, and even one of them was lost, how can a church expect to do this job on an assembly line basis a few days out of the year?
This means that some system must be found whereby every convert is given a Christian friend to follow until such time as he or she can lead another.
The counselor should stay with the new believer as much as possible, studying the Bible and praying with him or her, all the while answering questions, clarifying the truth, and seeking together to help others. If a church does not have such committed counselors willing to do this service, then it should be training some. And the only way they can be trained is by giving them a leader to follow.
Jesus expected the men he was with to obey him. They were not required to be smart, but they had to be loyal.
Following Jesus seemed easy enough at first, but that was because they had not followed him very far. It soon became apparent that being a disciple of Christ involved far more than a joyful acceptance of the Messianic promise: it meant the surrender of one’s whole life to the Master in absolute submission to his sovereignty.
Jesus did not have the time nor the desire to scatter himself on those who wanted to make their own terms of discipleship.
Obviously, the practical outworking of what it meant to follow Christ was not fully experienced. Yet Jesus patiently endured these human failings of his chosen disciples, because in spite of all their shortcomings they were willing to follow him.
With such men Jesus was willing to put up with a lot of those things which issued from their spiritual immaturity. He knew that they could master these defects as they grew in grace and knowledge. Their capacity to receive revelation would grow, provided they continued to practice what truth they did understand.
Obedience to Christ thus was the very means by which those in his company learned more truth. He did not ask the disciples to follow what they did not know to be true, but no one could follow him without learning what was true ( John 7:17). Hence, Jesus did not urge his disciples to commit their lives to a doctrine, but to a person who was the doctrine, and only as they continued in his Word could they know the truth ( John 8:31–32).
Supreme obedience was interpreted to be the expression of love.
Absolute obedience to the will of God, of course, was the controlling principle of the Master’s own life.
Repeatedly he sounded it out: “My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to accomplish his work” ( John 4:34); “I seek not my own will, but the will of him that sent me” ( John 5:30; see 6:38); “I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love” ( John 15:10; see 17:4). It could be summed up in his cry of Gethsemane: “Not my will, but thine be done” (Luke 22:42; see Mark 14:36; Matt. 26:39, 42, 44).
The cross was but the crowning climax of Jesus’ commitment to do the will of God. It forever showed that obedience could not be compromised—it was always a commitment unto death.
