THE BASE MODELS: RABBI

Luke 11:1

He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”

Jesus’ own model of discipling was an ancient one—a teacher gathers a circle of students, instructing them in holy wisdom. In turn, the students will become teachers, gathering their own circle, and so the community of faith will born and replicate. 

Within the subsequent church, this model persisted, but then the very institutional nature of the church ended it for all intents and purposes. The letters of St. Paul indicate that he gathered a few students who went on to become missionaries in their own right—Titus, Timothy, and others. The Desert Fathers and Mothers also practiced this sort of discipling, gathering students and sending them on. In some ways, monasticism carried on the tradition, but monasteries and nunneries developed their own mode of being. Exceptions were figures like St. Benedict and St. Francis who discipled by modeling the way of Jesus in their own lives, gathering a contingent of followers who learned their way, then formed sister communities to the original. However, by the time of the Reformation, the model of teacher and students was pretty much gone. Instead, the institution itself became the teacher. Pastors were not to gather an inner circle, equipping them to become apostles, but rather preach and care for an entire congregation, tending the ordinary life of the people with no real vocational training for any of them as anything other than pew-sitters. Pastors became trained to do so in professional schools. The church became the monolithic structure it is. Order, professionalism, standardization, and so on became the key markers for developing leaders. The discipleship within the congregation was more or less left to congregants to figure out for themselves in “fear and trembling” as Paul remarked. 

The model of teacher-disciples, though, is seeing a resurgence as the old order dwindles and a new order arises from a generation seeking to de-institutionalize the church and create a more engaged faith practice that has a job for everyone. A pastor may set up shop in the back corner of a coffee house, gathering a handful to teach and share the faith with. In turn, some of these will seek to add to the circle, and the hope is that some will start their own circles.

An immediate benefit of this model is intimacy. As some schools know well, a small class creates a nurturing environment for learning. An instructor can really get to know her students, connecting at a deeper level. There is more dialog. Questions that might never get asked, let alone answered, in a 200 student mega-lecture can come to light, leading to rich conversation and a fuller understanding of a topic or issue. Within the faith, this model’s intimacy allows for a study that goes beyond factual. In a small setting, students will see and experience how a teacher applies his faith to his life, meeting the everyday challenges through their faith. Faith becomes more than an academic act of intellectual assent, but is seen as an utterly practical way of life. Note that Jesus taught by example far more than lecture, with the closing admonition hanging in the air, “Go and do likewise.” The intimacy of the gathering helps everyone understand everyone else. Specific needs can be addressed and activities personalized to meet the actual people involved.

Because this model is relational, it becomes sharable. A student learns how to share the faith because the teacher shared it with them. The key element is before anything is shared, a relationship will be established based on listening, conversing, and building trust. Those elements deepen the connection and strengthen the foundation on which faith is practiced—you know me; I know you; this is what we do. 

This model is also slow. It takes time to develop. The slow pace allows for thorough immersion in the faith. It won’t be ten quick steps and then a shove to try them. Instead, it will be steeping in the basic belief system that then can become simply an existential part of one’s being. Sharing, then, is an act of self-expression more than anything else. Faith is who one becomes. There will be consistency between proclamation and lifestyle because life will be proclamation. 

This model requires the least overhead. A teacher can meet with her circle anywhere. Jesus met on hillsides, in villages, in the street, near the sea—wherever he stopped to teach. There is great freedom in forming this sort of group. And there can be great independence. A community of teacher-disciples can be what its members organically become rather than having to adhere to institutional structures or dogmas, something Jesus capitalized on in his own ministry, to the point that he earned the ire of the institution. But knowing God was far more important that being allied with the institution.

As with the other three base models, there are inherent risks with this one, too.

First, it can easily become a cult of personality. A charismatic teacher, even with the best of intentions, can become the mistaken center of the circle. The disciples become enamored with the person teaching, not what is taught. An unaware or dysfunctional teacher will not counter that dynamic. In fact, he may well promote it. That can lead to all sorts of problems from abusive leadership to an empty community. It also fairly well ensures that the circle will cease should the leader leave, die, or otherwise vacate the circle. Learning from Jesus, we see that a healthy teacher will always focus attention on the message. It is the way of life that is central, not the person living it. To be a community of Jesus, the teacher will always need to keep Jesus the focus. The teacher will also have to be incredibly self-aware, noting when disciples begin to idealize, idolize, or lionize her. Boundaries will be an absolute must!

Second, this model is hard to start. It is hard to go and ask a total stranger to sit in your presence when there is no trust, no knowledge, and no relationship with the would-be teacher. There will need to be an initial trust before the invitation can even be given. We sometimes miss the first miracle of Jesus’ ministry in that he was able to call complete strangers to join his circle—what about him led them to trust him enough to follow? A would-be teacher will need help gathering the first students, so nesting in an existing congregation will be almost inescapable. Folks in the church can help funnel students to the teacher. Sometimes, it will begin as a community—a few people decide to start a faith community, choosing one member or a couple to be designated teachers. The community as a whole then invites others to join as it gains traction. If this route is chosen, overhead can become an issue—the group will need space and funds to maintain itself. 

Third, teachers will need training. Not only will they need to be well-schooled in the faith; they will also need to be well-schooled in human dynamics. Our PC(USA) seminaries are presently not equipped for this type of discipling, still mostly preparing men and women to lead Sunday worship in established churches. At the level of pastoral education, we have little in place to teach would-be teachers for this type of ministry. There are parachurch organizations like 3DM Ministries that touch on this model, but even there, the model may not be purely taught. Interfaith education may be a possibility—Buddhism still employs this model with disciples seeking out known masters to learn the way. Their model could be adapted for use in a Christian context, but as of yet, no one has done much with it. We are beginning to see possible schools arising around spirituality movements like Centering Prayer, Richard Rohr's Franciscan ministry, etc. We will see what develops.