Emotionally Healthy Discipleship: Moving from Shallow Christianity to Deep Transformation

by Peter Scazzero

What are the beneath-the-surface failures that undermine deep discipleship and keep people from becoming spiritually mature?

1. We tolerate emotional immaturity. 2. We emphasize doing for God over being with God. 3. We ignore the treasures of church history. 4. We define success wrongly.

When we disciple or lead others, we essentially give away who we are—specifically, who we are in God. We give who we are on the inside, we give our presence, we give our journey with Jesus. This means we can give away only what we possess, which is the life we actually live each day. How could it be any other way?

You may be asking: “If success by the numbers isn’t necessarily success, what is?” Here’s how I would answer that question: Success, according to Scripture, is becoming the person God calls you to become, and doing what God calls you to do–in his way, and according to his timetable.

An emotionally healthy disciple slows down to be with Jesus, goes beneath the surface of their life to be deeply transformed by Jesus, and offers their life as a gift to the world for Jesus.

A person who practices being before doing operates from a place of emotional and spiritual fullness, deeply aware of themselves, others, and God. As a result, their being with God is sufficient to sustain their doing for God.

1. You cannot give what you do not possess. 2. What you do is important, but who you are is even more important. 3. The state you are in is the state you give to others. They’re easy to preach and teach, but challenging to live out.

In order to be with God before doing for God, we need to: make a radical decision, feel our feelings, integrate silence, and commune with Jesus throughout the day.

Evagrius of Pontus, another Desert Father, summarized it best, “You want to know God? First know yourself.”13 In other words, the pathway to God inevitably passes through self-knowledge.

I soon discovered the truth that when we’re not in touch with what is going on inside us, we are not in reality but in illusion or denial. And when we are not in reality, we are not in spirituality, because the authentic spiritual life is not an escape from reality but an absolute commitment to it.

For the first ten years of this journey, I made being with God the first priority in my job description. It read something like this: To grow and mature as a disciple of Jesus, leading others out of a deep inner life with Jesus. To be became my first work. Eventually, this requirement was added to the the job descriptions of others on our staff. We also built into the culture, over time, a question that was used in supervision and mentoring contexts: “How is it going with balancing your doing and your being? How are you doing your rhythms in this season?”

We choose to practice humility and servanthood by actually being with those who tend to be marginalized by the wider culture—the unattractive, the socially nonstrategic, the elderly, the mentally or physically handicapped, the prisoner, the battered, the poor. We join Jesus in being impressed by, and in awe of, people the world considers unimpressive. Like the apostle Paul, we are to internalize how the cross of Christ has put to death the old world of distinctions, divisions, and hierarchies. As a result, we “regard no one from a worldly point of view” (2 Corinthians 5:16).

Success is becoming the person God calls you to become, and doing what God calls you to do—in his way, and according to his timetable.

Ask yourself: • In what ways do I try to avoid the suffering and failure Jesus might be setting before me? • Before whom do I most dread looking foolish? Name them.

Even as thousands turn back, Jesus relaxes, grounded in a deep sense of the Father’s sovereignty and plan. He understands that, ultimately, it is the Father who draws disciples, and the Father who keeps them there. Regardless of the outcome, Jesus trusts that the Father is responsible for his mission and will send the right people to him. He models a steady contentment in doing God’s will, in God’s way, according to God’s timetable.

He did not heal every sick and demon-possessed person. He did not build a large ministry in Capernaum when they begged him to remain in that city (Mark 1:21–45). He refused to let certain people follow him, such as the man from whom he had cast out a legion of demons (Mark 5:18–20). He prayed all night and chose only twelve to be closest to him; others were undoubtedly disappointed. Jesus did not go in person to meet the needs of everyone in Europe, Africa, Asia, or the Americas. Yet he prayed at the end of his life, “I have . . . [finished] the work you gave me to do” (John 17:4).

What limits do I need to receive and submit to joyfully as God’s invitation to trust him? • What limits is God asking me to break through by faith so that others might know him, or so that I might become the person he intends?

One of the indicators we are on the road to spiritual maturity is when we live joyfully within our God-given limits. The problem is that most of us resent limits—in ourselves and in others. We expect far too much from ourselves and often live frustrated, disappointed, or even angry lives as a result. In fact, much of burnout is a result of giving what we do not possess.

This value is so vital to the health of our church that we have crafted a Rule of Life for our pastoral staff that includes weekly Sabbath-keeping, a day alone with God each month, and a commitment to pause for Daily Offices (often called Fixed-Hour Prayer) each day. This is part of how we systematize the value of self-care in our church culture; we essentially make it part of everyone’s job description. It’s not enough to say, Take care of yourself, or Your family comes first, at a staff meeting. We want our staff and volunteers to have the time they need alone with God so that Christ’s life flows out of them into others. When we are able to help both ourselves and those around us with this delicate balance, we find ourselves so deeply rooted in God that our activity for him is marked by a rich peace and joy.

I saw losses as obstacles I had to overcome in order to mature in Christ; God saw my losses as requirements in order to mature in Christ. Little did I know that the treasures buried deep in my sorrows contained the gifts I needed to grow into an emotional and spiritual adult.

Losses that are not grieved accumulate in our soul like heavy stones that weigh us down. When we fail to attend to them, they prevent us from living freely and honestly with God and others.

What are you angry about (a betrayal, a coworker’s hurtful comment, a car breakdown, unanswered prayer, etc.)? What are you sad about (a small or big loss, disappointment, or a choice you or others have made)? What are you anxious about (your finances, future, family, health, church)? What are you glad about (your family, an opportunity, your church)?

When we are faithful to the confusing in-between, we eventually move on to the next phase of responding to grief and loss, allowing the old to birth the new. This is where we allow God to reframe our losses so that we can receive the treasures God has for us.

Nouwen rightly says that the degree to which we grieve our own losses is in direct proportion to the depth and quality of the compassion we can offer to others. “There is no compassion without many tears . . . To become like the Father whose only authority is compassion, I have to shed countless tears and so prepare my heart to receive anyone, whatever their journey has been, and forgive them from the heart.”22 Absorbing our own pain, we are able to enter the pain of others. We become mature lovers and true mothers and fathers of the faith.

In I-Thou relationships, we recognize each person as unrepeatable, an inestimable treasure, an image-bearer of the living God. We treat each individual as sacred, as one created from the very breath of God. Most importantly, we welcome their otherness, acknowledging how different they are from us. In other words, we don’t try to get something from them or treat them as an extension of ourselves, the way we might treat an object such as a hammer or a phone. In an I-Thou encounter, we come to the other without preconditions—without masks, pretenses, and, at times, without words. We are completely available to them, seeking to understand them.

How do we practice the presence of people in the same way we practice the presence of God? One tool that has served me well comes from three questions offered by David Benner in his book Soulful Spirituality: 1. Am I fully present or distracted? 2. Am I loving or judging? 3. Am I open or closed to being changed?9

Can I be present and not distracted?Can I be loving and not judgmental? Can I be open rather than closed to being changed?

The life of Jesus teaches us three dynamics that characterize what it looks like to incarnate in order to love people well: we must enter another’s world, hold on to ourselves, and live in the tension between two worlds.

Honestly. Say what you truly think and feel rather than softpedaling or distorting the truth. Instead of, “I can’t volunteer because I have other plans,” you say, “I prefer not to volunteer because I want to have some time alone at home.” Clearly. Communicate directly. Rather than being vague or dropping hints, be clear. Instead of, “Are you busy Tuesday night?” you ask clearly, “Would you be willing to attend the class I’m teaching on Tuesday night and give me feedback on how I can improve?” In a timely fashion. Consider the moment. You understand that some moments are better than others for certain conversations. You notice when the other person is tired, irritated, or short on time, and you choose to wait until they are more relaxed before talking about your concerns.

Decide who will speak first and who will listen first. When you are the speaker . . . • Speak using “I” statements. (Talk about your thoughts, feelings, and desires.) • Keep your statements brief. • Stop occasionally to let the other person paraphrase what you’ve said. • Include feelings in your statements. • Be respectful, honest, and clear. When you are the listener . . . • Give the speaker your full attention (don’t be thinking about what you want to say next). • Step into the speaker’s shoes and try to feel what they are feeling. • Avoid judging or interpreting. • Reflect back, or paraphrase as accurately as you can, what you heard them say. • When you think they may be done, ask, “Is there more?”

When they are done, ask, “Of everything you shared, what is the most important thing you want me to remember?”

Remember, Jesus is our model. He knew who he was and where he came from. What I have to give to others—including the way I speak and listen—will always be directly proportional to my degree of self-knowledge. If I don’t know myself, the only self I have to offer will be a false self.

Scripture offers us a three-part, biblical framework for discipleship that frees us from the power of the past: 1. Acknowledge how the blessings and sins of your family—going back three to four generations—profoundly impacts who you are today. 2. Recognize you have been birthed into a new family—the family of Jesus. 3. Put off the sinful patterns of your family of origin and culture, and learn how to do life in the new family of Jesus.

Every leader must wrestle with this difficult question: How much of my family history might be running the church or ministry God has entrusted to my care? You have to ask this question because you cannot change anything of which you are unaware. The good news, however, is that once you do the hard work of acknowledging the negative legacies from your past, you are already well on your way to breaking the power the past has had over your life and your leadership.

Keep these five pathways before you and your church, following through on at least one of them as a first step: • leading people to genogram their family; • committing to do the hard work of serious discipleship; • ensuring people get a great future out of their past; • breaking the power of the past in every area of life and leadership; and • naming and taming the negative legacies of your ministry’s history.

One of the best illustrations I know for demonstrating how God uses brokenness is the art of kintsugi. Developed in Japan in the fourteenth century, kintsugi takes broken pieces of pottery and rejoins them using a lacquer with a beautiful gold powder.12 The word “kintsugi” literally means “to join with gold.” What makes kintsugi art so unique is that it actually emphasizes the broken pieces rather than trying to hide or disguise them, or discarding the object altogether.

The art of kintsugi reflects the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which calls for seeing beauty in the flawed, the damaged, the imperfect. The idea is to appreciate the whole history of the pottery piece, including it’s brokenness. Once reassembled, the piece is considered more beautiful and elegant than the original as the fault lines are now lined with precious veins of gold. It is also stronger and more precious because the repaired breakages make the object more, not less, valuable. God has a wabi-sabi philosophy of his own—he does kintsugi on his people all the time.

So, the question that naturally emerges is, “How do I bring Emotionally Healthy Discipleship into our church—and how do I keep it there?” Before we get to specific steps for implementation, it is critical to acknowledge three, beneath-the-surface elements that undergird Emotionally Healthy Discipleship: 1) It is a large, long-term vision for the church; 2) It is a biblical paradigm shift that takes seven to ten years to integrate; and 3) It unfolds from the inside out—from you, to your team, to the wider church.