One thing I mentioned Sunday as we continue to  press and deconstruct the idea of “Relational Ministry” is that our language truly reflects our meaning and intentions…even when we’re not aware of it.  One of the words I’ve always used and heard used in teaching, training, and discussing ministry is a form of the word “investment”.  

“I’m going to invest in him.”  

“We’re investing in kids this summer”.  

“I really want to invest in you.”

The word “investment” is a financial term that comes from the world of finances and banking (it’s always a warning sign when we flippantly use financial metaphors to discuss human relationships).  Investment specifically refer to getting a return on something we put in.  We invest when we expect something in return.    

What do we mean when we say we’re going to “invest” in a person?  Usually we mean that we’re willing to pour a certain amount of time and energy into a person with the expectation that we will see a certain result from our efforts.  We often justify this because the return we’re going for is something good (i.e. accepting Jesus, etc).  Maybe the return is good – but is this truly relationship?  Is this a healthy practice?  Is this what God does with us? 

As I mentioned Sunday, I don’t know if I’ve ever had a relationship with a church or para-church organization when I didn’t feel like an investment of sorts/”invested in”.  I am invited into relationship but only with the understanding that the relationship will provide a certain return.  Although having people “invest” in you often feels affirming and strokes the ego (“you think enough of my potential that you’re willing to pour into me?”), it inevitably leaves us feeling rather used and abandoned.  

Is investment what happened through the incarnation?

I offer the following quote to provoke the imagination and discussion:

“The incarnation is not about influence but about accompaniment”  (Andrew Root)

I commented Sunday that according to my observations most churches are structured in a way in which small groups equal discipleship.  In other words, everyone agrees that discipleship is important and, it seems, most agree that the best way to become a disciple (apprentice to Jesus) is through small groups.  Sunday I simply asked the question, is this true?  What’s the link here?  I confess…after experiencing countless small groups in my evangelical life, I have to pause and grapple with the two concepts and try to connect them.  

The best answer I can come up with which justifies the linking of discipleship and small groups is that a small group is a community where you can’t remain anonymous.  In other words, you have to engage – you have to know and be known.  The New Testament – especially the epistles – are jammed with instruction and commentary on how we are to live together.  Small groups provide a very hands-on format/structure to begin practicing the disciplines involved in loving one another (forgiveness, sharing burdens, humility, etc).  

All well and good in theory.  Here are my “push backs” in practice:

Almost every small group I have experienced or witnessed falls into one of two categories:

  • They are successful and last a long time primarily because they are largely made of people in similar life stages and experiences who share a lot of natural affinity for one another.  These people like each other and find it relatively easy and comforting to be together.  Their group often functions as a sort of “safe harbor” from the daily grind of life in the world.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with this.  In fact, these groups are often very helpful and healthy.  My point is simply that the epistles are specifically written to communities comprised of wildly different people – the kind of people who normally (culturally and sometimes legally) would have nothing to do with one another.  The real “discipleship” component comes from doing the hard work of loving people you don’t naturally like.  Which leads into the second kind of small group…
  • People who don’t have natural affinity for each other and find it somewhat taxing to give an extra night of the week to the group.  Ironically, in many cases, these folks are set-up to actually begin practicing a serious form of discipleship, but they find it hard and quit.  

I have to conclude with my conviction that true discipleship is about following Jesus in bringing wholeness to a broken world.  Healing is needed in our relationship with the world, with ourselves, and with each other.  No doubt small groups can play an important role in this, but some thought is needed to make the link between discipleship and all spheres of life.