God’s Pursuit of Man is the third book I’ve read by A. W. Tozer, and it stands in clear continuity with the others in both concern and direction. This book is about God’s initiative toward humanity as Scripture presents it—not as a theological abstraction, but as God’s active pursuit carried out by His own presence. Tozer organizes the work around the ways God acts across time and within history: speaking by His word, calling men and women to Himself, illuminating the mind, and exercising power that does not arise from human effort. The movement of the book remains deliberate, beginning with God’s eternal nature and pressing steadily toward how that eternal purpose takes form in lived encounter rather than human construction or control.
As the chapters unfold, the focus narrows toward the person and work of the Holy Spirit, treated not as an added element of Christian belief but as central to how God makes Himself known and present. Tozer addresses illumination, power, purification, and reception, showing why spiritual life cannot be sustained by intellect, form, or discipline alone. A recurring contrast is drawn—not between belief and unbelief, but between what can be maintained by religious structure and what comes only through God’s active indwelling presence. The book moves toward its conclusion by clarifying the Spirit-filled life in strictly biblical terms, presenting it not as a special category or heightened state, but as the ordered condition of life lived under the ongoing action of God who has drawn near and remains.
God’s Pursuit and the Indwelling Spirit
A Theological Exposition of A. W. Tozer’s God’s Pursuit of Man
Abstract
This monograph interprets God’s Pursuit of Man (1950) as a theology of divine initiative culminating in indwelling presence. Whereas The Pursuit of God articulates the regenerate soul’s conscious seeking of God, this later work reverses the axis of attention, presenting salvation and spiritual life as grounded in God’s prior movement toward man by the Holy Spirit. Tozer traces the pursuit of God from eternity into time, through divine calling, illumination, empowerment, purification, and abiding presence, insisting that human response never precedes divine action. The book advances a pneumatological realism in which the Spirit is neither metaphor nor adjunct, but the active agent by whom God takes up residence within the believer.
Situated within classical Christian theology, Tozer’s treatment aligns closely with Augustinian grace and Reformed insistence upon divine primacy, while drawing deeply from patristic categories of participation without dissolving the Creator–creature distinction. His account of Spirit-filling is not experiential inflation, but the ordered condition of life governed by indwelling presence. The Spirit’s work is shown to be continuous rather than episodic, interior before demonstrative, and relational rather than method-driven. God’s Pursuit of Man thus presents a theology of Christian life in which obedience, illumination, and power flow not from human construction, but from the sustained activity of God who dwells within those He has called.
Author’s Note
This work has been written in the tone of theological synthesis rather than pastoral exhortation, approaching A. W. Tozer as a disciplined theologian of divine presence rather than a mere devotional writer. Composed as a complement to The Pursuit of God, God’s Pursuit of Man carries a quieter but weightier emphasis, shifting attention from the soul’s seeking to God’s abiding action. Its argument is not speculative, but ordered—moving from God’s eternal nature to His indwelling presence by the Spirit, and in so doing clarifying the ground upon which all genuine spiritual life stands.
The intention here is not to modernize or extend Tozer’s thought, but to unfold it along its own internal logic. His theology of the Holy Spirit remains resolutely biblical, drawing implicitly from Augustine’s doctrine of grace, Calvin’s teaching on inward illumination, and the broader patristic witness to participation through divine indwelling. Yet Tozer resists both mysticism untethered from Scripture and formalism detached from presence. What emerges is a sober evangelical theology of the Spirit, in which God’s pursuit finds its end not in religious attainment, but in restored communion—God dwelling within man by grace, and governing the life He has claimed.
I. The Eternal Continuum
Tozer begins by situating God not within time but above it, establishing at the outset that God’s dealings with man proceed from eternity rather than unfolding as reactions to history. Scripture consistently presents God as the One who “inhabits eternity” and declares the end from the beginning (Isaiah 57:15; Isaiah 46:10), and Tozer presses this truth to steady the reader’s understanding of salvation itself. The key idea is not metaphysical distance but continuity: God’s pursuit of man does not begin when man becomes aware of God, but because God has already purposed to act. This eternal grounding explains why divine calling, grace, and redemption are not sporadic or conditional, but consistent and purposeful. Hebrews affirms this continuity plainly—“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8)—and by anchoring the entire discussion here, Tozer prepares the reader to see every subsequent chapter not as a separate movement, but as the unfolding of one eternal intention carried forward into time.
II. In Word, or in Power
Having established the eternal source of God’s action, Tozer turns to the means by which that action is made known, drawing a careful distinction between words spoken and power at work. Scripture never treats God’s word as inert or merely informative, and Paul’s insistence that “the kingdom of God does not consist in talk but in power” (1 Corinthians 4:20) serves as a quiet corrective to religious speech untethered from divine action. The central concern here is effectiveness, not accuracy: God’s word accomplishes its purpose only as God Himself attends it. This is why the gospel is described not simply as truth, but as “the power of God for salvation” (Romans 1:16). Tozer allows this tension to remain unresolved at the practical level, pressing the reader to recognize that where God’s word is heard without God’s power, religious life may multiply explanations while remaining unchanged, setting the stage for the deeper question of how God Himself must act upon the soul.
III. The Mystery of the Call
From word and power, Tozer moves inward to the call of God, treating it not as an emotional experience or vocational idea, but as a direct summons that originates entirely in God’s will. Christ’s statement—“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (John 6:44)—stands behind the chapter as both explanation and boundary. The call of God, Tozer insists, is not produced by readiness, persuasion, or desire, but arrives as God’s initiative toward a person. This calling carries authority because it precedes consent, and Scripture binds it inseparably to God’s redemptive action: “those whom he called he also justified” (Romans 8:30). Rather than explaining how the call is perceived, Tozer allows its mystery to remain, leaving the reader with the weight of a God who speaks first and calls men not when conditions are ideal, but when His purpose unfolds.
IV. Victory through Defeat
Tozer next addresses the tension that arises when God’s calling collides with human self-reliance, tracing a pattern Scripture repeats with quiet insistence. Christ’s words—“Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25)—and Paul’s confession that God’s power is “made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9) reveal a divine logic that runs counter to natural expectation. The heart of the chapter lies here: God often advances His work by dismantling the structures man depends upon. What appears as defeat—loss of control, exposure of weakness, failure of self-direction—is frequently the means by which God establishes genuine dependence. Tozer does not glorify loss for its own sake, but shows how surrender clears the ground for obedience, preparing the reader to see yielding not as regression, but as necessary movement toward alignment with God’s will.
V. The Forgotten One
With dependence now in view, Tozer turns directly to the Holy Spirit, addressing the quiet absence that results when the Spirit is acknowledged in belief but neglected in practice. Jesus’ promise of another Helper who would dwell with and in believers (John 14:16–17) sets the framework, establishing the Spirit not as an aid to be invoked, but as God’s abiding presence. The key issue Tozer raises is not denial, but displacement—allowing structure, effort, or habit to take the place of living dependence. Scripture speaks plainly here: “Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him” (Romans 8:9). By presenting the Spirit as essential rather than supplemental, Tozer gently shifts the reader away from organized religion toward relational life, opening the way for a deeper consideration of how God makes truth known.
VI. The Illumination of the Spirit
Turning from presence to perception, Tozer addresses the question of understanding, drawing attention to Scripture’s insistence that divine truth requires divine illumination. Paul’s words—“The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God” (1 Corinthians 2:14)—clarify the limitation, while the psalmist’s prayer, “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law” (Psalm 119:18), gives voice to the proper posture. The central claim is simple but demanding: truth is not grasped merely by study or sincerity, but must be made known by God Himself. Without this illumination, Scripture may be read faithfully yet remain external, accumulating knowledge without shaping life. Tozer leaves the reader here not with technique, but with dependence, preparing the ground for understanding spiritual power rightly.
VII. The Spirit as Power
From illumination, Tozer moves to empowerment, anchoring the discussion in Christ’s promise that the Spirit would bring power upon His coming (Acts 1:8). This power, however, is carefully distinguished from energy, ambition, or religious momentum. The chapter’s central concern is origin: true spiritual power flows from God’s presence rather than human capacity. Tozer reinforces this by showing how Scripture associates power not with dominance, but with faithfulness, endurance, and witness aligned with God’s purpose. Where the Spirit supplies power, obedience is sustained and testimony strengthened, not by amplifying personality, but by governing direction, leading naturally into the refining work that accompanies true empowerment.
VIII. The Holy Spirit as Fire
Here Tozer develops the biblical imagery of fire, drawing from John the Baptist’s words that Christ would baptize “with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11), and from the declaration that “our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:29). Fire, as Scripture presents it, purifies before it comforts and refines before it reassures. The chapter centers on removal rather than addition: what cannot coexist with God’s holiness must be burned away. Echoing Malachi’s image of the refiner (Malachi 3:2–3), Tozer frames this work not as punishment, but as preparation, allowing the reader to see purification as a necessary condition for deeper fellowship rather than an obstacle to it.
IX. Why the World Cannot Receive
Tozer then addresses the contrast between the Spirit’s work and the world’s understanding, grounding the discussion in Christ’s statement that the world cannot receive the Spirit because it neither sees nor knows Him (John 14:17). This inability is not presented as moral failure, but as spiritual incompatibility, rooted in differing foundations. Paul’s assertion that spiritual things are discerned only by the Spirit (1 Corinthians 2:14) reinforces the limitation. By framing this as description rather than condemnation, Tozer allows the reader to recognize why spiritual life remains unintelligible outside God’s initiative, clearing the way for his final synthesis of what life governed by the Spirit looks like.
X. The Spirit-Filled Life
In the closing chapter, Tozer returns to Paul’s instruction to “be filled with the Spirit” (Ephesians 5:18), treating it not as an isolated experience but as the settled condition toward which all of God’s pursuing work has been moving. Filling is presented as the shaping influence of God’s indwelling presence over the whole life, revealed not in excess, but in order. Paul’s description of worship, gratitude, and mutual submission (Ephesians 5:19–21) provides the scriptural grounding, showing that Spirit-filled life expresses itself through coherence rather than display. With this, Tozer allows the argument to rest where it began—not in human striving, but in God’s abiding presence ordering the life He has sought and claimed.
XI. Conclusion:
God’s Pursuit of Man refuses to let the reader think of God as merely near, helpful, or occasionally involved. Tozer keeps pressing toward something more demanding and more decisive: God’s aim is to dwell. Not to influence from a distance or assist improved effort, but to take up residence. When Scripture speaks of “Christ in you” (Colossians 1:27) or of the Spirit dwelling within (Romans 8:10), Tozer treats this language as literal, not figurative or sentimental. God’s pursuit, in his framing, does not reach its end when man holds true beliefs about God; it reaches its end when God is present within the person He has sought.
Once that is settled, the language of being “filled with the Spirit” falls into place. Tozer is not directing the reader toward an experience to be chased or a state to be measured, but describing what occurs when the indwelling presence of God is no longer resisted. Filling is not God arriving again, but God ordering what is already His—thoughts, desires, obedience, worship. The life that follows is not marked by outward intensity but by ordered obedience; not by urgency, but by steadiness; not by display, but by governance from within. What is set aside is not responsibility, but self-direction, and what is received is a life brought into coherence under the quiet rule of the God who dwells within.
Today I fully completed A.W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God, a first reading of his work and one that left a piqued impression upon both mind and spirit. Tozer’s pages develop with the gravity of a man who has truly sought God—not as an idea to be affirmed, but as the Living One to be known. His insights, born of Scripture and seasoned with reverent awe, possess a depth and permanence that resist mere sentiment. Each chapter pressed the soul toward inward honesty and the relinquishment of self, drawing the reader to recognize that the greatest knowledge is not intellectual mastery of divine things, but surrender before the divine presence.
What makes Tozer’s work enduringly relevant is his unwavering Christ-centeredness. He sought union with God in the only way that is authentic—through what God has revealed of Himself in the person of Jesus Christ and in the written Word. His theology is neither mystical abstraction nor moralism, but a living participation in the reality of grace. Tozer’s voice reminds us that true faith consists not in activity but in adoration, not in the accumulation of truths but in communion with Truth Himself. Finishing this book feels less like closing a volume and more like opening a door; its invitation to pursue God remains, quiet yet commanding, as the abiding call of the Spirit.
The Soul’s Pursuit and the Indwelling Presence
A Theological Exposition of A.W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God
Abstract
This monograph interprets A. W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God (1948) as a theology of Union with Christ—a participation of the regenerate soul in God’s own life through grace. Tozer’s appeal to experiential knowledge situates him between Reformed monergism and Patristic theosis: he preserves divine initiative while affirming that the believer, quickened by the Spirit, may truly “apprehend God.” Drawing from Augustine, Calvin, and the Cappadocians, this study shows that Tozer’s “pursuit” is not a human climb toward deity but the Spirit’s self-movement realized in the believer’s conscious love. His spirituality is therefore mystical yet scriptural, reasoned yet intimate. It is an evangelical restoration of the classic doctrine that the knowledge of God, being divinely revealed and spiritually apprehended, is not developed by intellect but received in the very act of communion with Him.
Author’s Note
Written in the tone of reverent analysis rather than commentary, this work approaches Tozer as a genuine theologian of presence. His slender volume, composed in a single train journey, carries the intensity of an Augustinian confession and the clarity of a Protestant sermon. Here, the intent is to unfold his thought along the axis of Union with Christ, showing how his vision harmonizes with both Augustinian interiority and Patristic participation, yet remains wholly faithful to the Reformation witness that salvation is of grace alone.
I. Tozer’s Context and the Recovery of Divine Immediacy
Aiden Wilson Tozer (1897 – 1963), the self-taught preacher of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, wrote The Pursuit of God after years of pastoral ministry among believers who, though orthodox in creed, seemed estranged from the living reality of God. He lamented that “religion has accepted the monstrous heresy that noise, size, activity, and bluster make a man dear to God.” [1] For him, the crisis of modern Christianity was not atheism but the absence of awareness. The transcendent God was acknowledged in doctrine yet ignored in experience.
Tozer’s corrective belongs to the current, sometimes called Evangelical Mysticism—not speculative but devotional, insisting that truth must become encounter. The believer’s task is not to summon a distant deity but to awaken to the God already indwelling through Christ. Here Tozer stands with Augustine: “You were within me, but I was outside myself, seeking You among created things.” [2] The Pursuit of God, therefore, calls for a re-entry into the interior sanctuary where the Spirit dwells.
He saw the world as spiritually anesthetized by intellectualism and materialism. The “pursuit” is not escape from creation but recovery of its sacramental depth—the recognition that the universe is charged with the presence of God. In this sense, Tozer becomes a twentieth-century interpreter of Psalm 63:8, “My soul followeth hard after Thee; Thy right hand upholdeth me.” The psalmist’s paradox of human longing upheld by divine grasp is the seed of Tozer’s whole theology.
II. The Principle of Pursuit: Divine Initiative and Human Response
At first reading, the title The Pursuit of God appears to ascribe initiative to man. Yet Tozer clarifies the paradox:
“We pursue God because, and only because, He first put an urge within us that spurs us to the pursuit.” [3]
This is Augustinian gratia praeveniens—grace preceding every motion of the will [4]—and entirely consonant with Reformed monergism, which holds that regeneration births faith rather than the reverse [5]. For Tozer, every genuine desire for God originates in God Himself: “No man can come to Me except the Father draw him” (John 6:44). Thus, pursuit is participation—the Spirit’s own desire echoing within the creature.
This understanding rescues Tozer from Pelagian misreading. His verbs seek, follow, pursue describe not independent striving but synergic response (συνεργεία)—a cooperation within grace, never apart from it [6]. The soul’s motion is God’s motion mirrored.
In theological structure, the pattern is double:
Divine Initiation – God awakens the heart.
Human Response – The awakened will consents to that drawing.
Such consent is the very form of faith working by love (Galatians 5:6). Pursuit, therefore, becomes the liturgy of desire: the continual yes of the regenerate soul to the perpetual call of God.
Tozer’s language resonates with Gregory of Nyssa’s doctrine of epektasis, the soul’s endless stretching forth into God [7]. Yet unlike the Eastern ascent through deification, Tozer’s progression is grounded in Christic possession: “To have found God and still to pursue Him is the soul’s paradox of love.” Here finding and seeking are one act, mirroring the Pauline rhythm of Philippians 3:12—“I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me His own.”
The pursuit is thus not a climb but a circulation of grace. The Spirit initiates; the believer answers; and that answer is itself Spirit-empowered. In Tozer’s idiom, grace is not static favor but dynamic presence. It is the indwelling Christ drawing the soul ever deeper into communion, until faith becomes awareness and awareness becomes worship.
III. “The Blessedness of Possessing Nothing”: Kenotic Detachment
In the second chapter of The Pursuit of God, Tozer turns to Abraham’s surrender of Isaac (Genesis 22). He calls it “the blessedness of possessing nothing,” for in yielding the dearest earthly treasure Abraham was set free from the tyranny of ownership. > “God let the suffering father endure the anguish until all was out of him; then He forbade the act of self-immolation. It was then that Abraham was a man wholly surrendered.” [8]
This moment embodies kenosis (κένωσις)—self-emptying patterned after Christ, “who… made Himself of no reputation” (Philippians 2:7). Yet Tozer interprets it morally rather than metaphysically: the stripping of possessiveness so that God alone may possess the heart. The believer must bring every “Isaac” to the altar; the sacrifice purges not love itself but idolatrous attachment.
Here Tozer stands in continuity with Calvin’s doctrine of self-denial: “We are not our own; therefore, neither our reason nor our will should dominate our plans and actions.” [9] The inward renunciation of the self-life is also the Reformed path to sanctificatio. The soul, once freed from false possession, becomes transparent to grace.
Patristic tradition frames the same principle apophatically. Gregory of Nyssa and Dionysius the Areopagite taught that one comes to God by negation—via negativa—letting go of every created image that obscures the uncreated Light [10]. Tozer’s Protestant idiom echoes this precisely: he calls the self-life “a veil woven of pride and self-love.” The goal is not detachment from creation but freedom within it: to behold all things as God’s rather than one’s own.
Thus “possessing nothing” becomes paradoxical richness. The emptied heart becomes the dwelling of the Spirit; poverty of spirit (Matthew 5:3) becomes the portal of the kingdom. In Augustine’s phrase, tranquillitas ordinis—the tranquility of order [11]—is restored when love is rightly directed: the creature delights in the Creator through detachment from self.
IV. “Removing the Veil”: The Interior Sanctuary and the Doctrine of Access
Tozer next develops his most penetrating metaphor: the inner veil. Drawing from Matthew 27:51, he writes that while the temple veil was torn by Christ’s death, an interior veil still hangs across the heart.
“We must invite the cross to do its deadly work within us; we must bring our self-sins to the cross for judgment.” [12]
This “veil of self” represents the residual opacity of the fallen ego even after conversion. The believer has access by right of Christ’s atonement (Hebrews 10:19-22), yet subjectively the way remains clouded until pride yields. Tozer, therefore, unites objective justification with subjective sanctification: the rent veil of Calvary must be inwardly realized.
The doctrine parallels Augustine’s summons, “Return into yourself; truth dwells in the inner man.” [13] The rending of the veil is an inward pilgrimage from self-consciousness to God-consciousness. Calvin expresses the same movement when he writes that the Spirit “draws us within the heavenly sanctuary, that we may enjoy the presence of God Himself.” [14]
Patristically, Tozer’s image anticipates the katharsis of the Eastern fathers—the purification that precedes theoria, vision of God. For Gregory Palamas, the heart must be cleared of the passions so that it may perceive the divine energies [15]. Tozer, without the technical language, describes the same transformation: the self-veil is not destroyed by moral effort but crucified through participation in Christ’s death (Galatians 2:20).
Once the veil is gone, worship ceases to be external. The believer enters the Holy of Holies of his own regenerated spirit, where God speaks in stillness. The cross thus becomes both historical event and interior operation—the principle of continual death unto life.
“The moment we cross the threshold of our hearts and bow in humility, the veil is gone and we are in God’s presence.”
In this brief sentence lies Tozer’s entire theology of union: the torn veil of the soul reveals the indwelling God.
V. “Removing the Veil” (continued): From Access to Awareness
Tozer’s doctrine of access culminates in his insistence that “God is nearer to us than our own soul.” The problem, he explains, is not distance but blindness. Divine presence fills all things (Jeremiah 23:24), yet the self-occupied mind remains veiled. The believer must therefore “practice inwardness,” learning to dwell consciously before God.
This concept approximates Brother Lawrence’s Practice of the Presence of God, yet Tozer grounds it more firmly in Christ’s atoning mediation: we enter the sanctuary “by the blood of Jesus” (Hebrews 10:19). The resulting awareness is not mystic absorption but relational consciousness—the realization that “Thy right hand upholdeth me” (Psalm 63:8). In this way, Tozer transforms the contemplative tradition into evangelical prayer.
VI. “Apprehending God”: Knowledge by Presence
In Apprehending God, Tozer laments that “modern Christianity knows God only as inference.” He contrasts this with the biblical theoria—the perception of God’s reality by purified faith.
“The soul has eyes with which to see and ears with which to hear; when they are open, reality is perceived.” [16]
This “seeing” is the operation of faith itself, corresponding to 2 Corinthians 4 : 6—“God… hath shined in our hearts.” Calvin calls faith “a firm and certain knowledge of God’s benevolence toward us, revealed to our minds and sealed upon our hearts by the Holy Spirit.” [17] Tozer thus retrieves the experiential side of Reformed epistemology: knowing God through participation in illumination.
Patristically, this parallels the doctrine of the nous—the inner eye restored by grace. Gregory Palamas distinguishes between knowing God’s essence (impossible) and His energies (possible and salvific). [18] Tozer’s “apprehension” describes precisely that contact: a knowledge by communion rather than by concept. The intellect remains servant to love; theology becomes doxology.
VII. “The Speaking Voice”: Revelation as Continuous Presence
Tozer’s chapter The Speaking Voice defends the immediacy of divine revelation. God has not fallen silent; His Word still speaks through Scripture and Spirit.
“The voice of God is speaking within the heart of every believer; it is the Voice that gave life at the beginning and still gives life today.” [19]
This is illumination, not new revelation. The Reformed tradition calls it testimonium Spiritus Sancti internum—the inward witness of the Spirit that makes the written Word alive. [20] Patristic theology frames the same mystery through Athanasius: the Logos who created the world continues to sustain and address it. [21] For Tozer, the “speaking Voice” is the Logos personally present. The believer who listens in stillness finds Scripture not a record of past speech but the living utterance of the ever-speaking God.
Thus Tozer’s doctrine of revelation fuses the objective and the experiential. The Bible remains final, yet God is not confined to past tense. The Spirit interprets, convicts, and communes; revelation becomes relationship. “Faith comes by hearing” (Romans 10:17), and hearing itself is grace.
VIII. “The Gaze of the Soul”: Contemplative Faith
Faith, writes Tozer, “is the gaze of the soul upon God.”[22] It is not mere assent but sustained attention—the posture of Hebrews 12:2, “Looking unto Jesus.” While the Reformation defined faith as the instrument of justification, Tozer restores its contemplative dimension: believing is beholding.
“While we are looking at God, we do not see ourselves—blessed riddance.”
This resonates with Calvin’s notion that faith unites the believer to Christ so that His life flows into ours. [23] Yet Tozer’s emphasis is affective rather than forensic: the steady turning of desire God-ward. It mirrors the Cappadocian theoria, the upward look that transforms. [24] As the soul gazes, it is changed “from glory to glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18).
In practical terms, this gaze is prayer without ceasing. It requires neither retreat nor formula, only the interior orientation of love. Faith thus becomes vision, and vision becomes likeness—the rhythm of union.
IX. “Restoring the Creator–Creature Relation”: Ontological Alignment
For Tozer, sin is disordered relation. When the creature places itself at the center, creation falls out of harmony.
“When the creation is once again aligned with the Creator, harmony returns to the universe.” [25]
Here Tozer reaches beyond ethics into metaphysics. The soul’s healing is the re-centering of being around God, a restoration of ordo amoris—the right order of love [26]. The Reformed analogue is reconciliation through union with Christ (Colossians 3:10); the Patristic parallel is theosis, humanity renewed in the divine image. [27]
Tozer avoids speculative language yet conveys its reality: grace re-establishes the proper axis of existence. The believer no longer lives as an autonomous individual but as one who adores. In this alignment, all vocation becomes sacrament. Creation, once profaned by self-will, becomes Eucharistic—offered back to God in thanksgiving. [28]
X. “Meekness and Rest”: Participation in Christ’s Humility
In Meekness and Rest Tozer directs the soul from contemplation to imitation. Christ’s call, “Learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29), becomes both pattern and power.
“The meek man cares not at all who is greater than he, for he has long ago decided that the esteem of the world is worthless.” [29]
This meekness is not psychological timidity but ontological harmony with the Lamb of God (Philippians 2:5-11). It is the kenotic posture of existence, the yielding of self-will into divine will. Within Reformed categories, this is sanctification—the Spirit’s conforming of the believer to Christ (Romans 8:29). In Patristic idiom, it corresponds to homoiosis Theou, likeness to God, which Athanasius describes: “He became what we are, that He might make us what He is.” [30] Thus, meekness is not a mere virtue but participation: humility is communion with the humbled Christ.
XI. “The Sacrament of Living”: The Sanctification of the Ordinary
Tozer closes with a vision of integrated holiness.
“It is not what a man does that determines whether his work is sacred or secular, but why he does it.” [31]
Every task becomes worship when offered to God (1 Corinthians 10:31). This dissolves the false dualism of sacred versus secular. The Reformed expression is coram Deo—life before the face of God [32]; the Patristic parallel is Maximus the Confessor’s “cosmic liturgy,” in which humanity unites creation to its Creator [33]. Tozer translates both into evangelical idiom: awareness of Christ in all things.
Work, study, rest, and suffering become liturgical acts when performed in obedience and love. The Christian life thus becomes a continual Eucharist: receiving and returning all to God.
XII. Synthesis: Tozer Between Reformed and Patristic Currents
Theological Theme
Reformed Emphasis
Patristic Emphasis
Tozer’s Expression
Union with Christ
Judicial and participatory; grounded in election and justification
Ontological participation (theosis)
Experiential communion through awareness and love
Grace and Initiative
Monergistic; grace precedes will
Synergic cooperation within grace
Divine initiative, responsive pursuit
Sanctification
Progressive conformity to Christ
Ascetical purification and illumination
Continual surrender to indwelling Presence
Knowledge of God
Illumined faith through Word & Spirit
Theoria via purified nous
“Apprehending God” through interior perception
Goal of Life
Glorification, communion with Christ
Theosis, participation in divine energies
“The Sacrament of Living”—perpetual adoration
Tozer thus stands as a bridge between scholastic piety and mystical immediacy. His theology never departs from evangelical orthodoxy, yet it breathes the atmosphere of the Fathers: divine love as both origin and end. He re-integrates knowledge and presence, intellect and affection, truth and adoration. For him, theology culminates not in system but in presence—the intellect kneeling before mystery.
XIII. Conclusion: The Pursuit as Realized Union
The Pursuit of God ends where it began—in longing satisfied by continual desire. The believer does not chase an absent deity but awakens to the God already indwelling. “God is here waiting our attention,” Tozer writes [34]; union is therefore awareness.
The pursuit is the Spirit’s own life moving within the human heart, drawing it into the eternal communion of Father and Son (John 17:21-23). Reason and intimacy converge: truth becomes love experienced. In this rhythm, theology becomes worship and worship becomes theology—the endless circulation of grace.
O God of burning love, Thou who hast pursued us from eternity, Rend the veil of self within us; empty us of all that is not Thee. Speak Thy living Word again, that our hearts may hear and obey. Teach us to look steadfastly upon Thy beauty, To labor as worshipers, to rest as children, Until every act and thought be sacrament, and every breath praise. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, in whom Thou art perfectly revealed. Amen.
Citations
[1] A. W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God (1948), ch. 1. [2] Augustine, Confessions X.27. [3] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 1. [4] Augustine, De gratia et libero arbitrio 17.33. [5] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion III.3.1. [6] Synergy as in John Damascene, De Fide Orthodoxa II.30. [7] Gregory of Nyssa, De Vita Moysis II.232–240 (on epektasis). [8] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 2. [9] Calvin, Institutes III.7.1. [10] Pseudo-Dionysius, Mystical Theology 1.3. [11] Augustine, City of God XIX.13. [12] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 3. [13] Augustine, De vera religione 39. [14] Calvin, Institutes III.20.37. [15] Gregory Palamas, Triads I.3.23. [16] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 4. [17] Calvin, Institutes III.2.7. [18] Palamas, Triads I.3.10. [19] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 5. [20] Westminster Confession of Faith I.v. [21] Athanasius, Contra Gentes 41. [22] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 7. [23] Calvin, Institutes III.11.10. [24] Gregory Nazianzen, Oration 28.4. [25] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 8. [26] Augustine, City of God XV.22. [27] Athanasius, De Incarnatione Verbi Dei §54. [28] Maximus the Confessor, Ambigua 41 (on cosmic liturgy). [29] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 9. [30] Athanasius, De Incarnatione §54. [31] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, ch. 10. [32] Calvin, Commentary on Psalm 16:8. [33] Maximus the Confessor, Ambigua 7. [34] Tozer, The Pursuit of God, Conclusion. [35] Scripture quotations: King James Version (Public Domain).
Having read “Practicing the Way: Be with Jesus. Become Like Him. Do as He Did” by John Mark Comer (WaterBrook, 2024, hardcover, ISBN 978-0-593-44615-9), I found the book to be both theologically coherent and pastorally grounded (I’m aware of Comer’s views or questions about Penal Substitutionary Atonement). Across its 289 pages, Comer offers what is less a theory of discipleship than a lived theology of union through practice—an apprenticeship of presence, formation, and participation patterned after the life of Christ. What first drew me in was his ability to speak from experience rather than abstraction. He begins with the crisis of formation that pervades modern discipleship—our habits, devices, and culture quietly molding us—and then methodically reintroduces what it means to abide in Christ as the central reality of faith. His writing blends clarity and candor; at no point does it feel instructional in the academic sense, but personal, persuasive, and devotional in tone.
By the time I reached the closing chapters (pp. 251–289), where Comer reflects on surrender and the joy of taking up one’s cross, the structure of his vision had become unmistakably clear: apprenticeship is the visible outworking of union with the indwelling Christ. The pages that lingered with me most—particularly pp. 183–210, on crafting a personal Rule of Life—captured his distinctive gift for translating ancient Christian wisdom into the language of a hurried modern world. WaterBrook’s publication serves this vision well: the book’s design, typography, and layout mirror the unhurried clarity of its message. Reading it cover to cover left me convinced that Comer’s project succeeds where many modern works on spirituality falter—it reclaims discipleship as a rhythm of grace, making the life of Christ not merely studied, but practiced.
Introduction
John Mark Comer’s Practicing the Way unfolds from a single conviction—that discipleship to Jesus is not intellectual assent but participatory union. Drawing from John 15:4-5, he insists that the life of the believer is one of abiding: “Abide in me, and I in you.” Union with Christ, in this vision, is a lived reality wherein the branches draw constant life from the Vine. Comer traces this abiding rhythm through the Gospels’ portrayal of Jesus’ intimacy with the Father—His pre-dawn prayer in solitude (Mark 1:35), His retreat to desolate places (Luke 5:16), His invitation to the weary, “Come to me…and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29). These moments, he argues, are not peripheral devotions but the very pattern of divine-human communion. To be with Jesus thus becomes the foundation of transformation; Scripture, prayer, and stillness are not obligations but the Spirit’s chosen means of participation in the indwelling Christ (Ephesians 3:16-17). Comer presents this as the antidote to the hurried fragmentation of modern life: to dwell with Christ in every ordinary hour is to let eternal life begin now (John 17:3).
From this center, the book expands outward—becoming like Him and doing as He did—each movement expressing the dynamism of union. Comer turns to Romans 8:29—“to be conformed to the image of His Son”—to describe formation as the Spirit’s slow work of reshaping our desires and habits. He recalls Paul’s confession, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20), as the interior grammar of apprenticeship: not imitation by effort, but transformation by participation. From this inner likeness flows outward action—obedience born of love—as believers learn to “walk in the same way in which He walked” (1 John 2:6). Comer’s Rule of Life—structured rhythms of Sabbath (Genesis 2:2–3; Mark 2:27), prayer (Luke 11:1–2), fasting (Matthew 6:16–18), generosity (Acts 2:44–47), and witness (Matthew 28:19–20)—forms a trellis upon which divine life grows. Each discipline is an embodied confession of union: the daily, deliberate “putting on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 13:14). His purpose is therefore both pastoral and incarnational—to recover discipleship as the practical outworking of the believer’s participation in the life of the Son, so that the presence once confined to Galilee might now inhabit every disciple’s table, calendar, and vocation.
Book Review
Be with Jesus — The Abiding Center
John Mark Comer begins Practicing the Way by naming what he calls the crisis of formation that underlies modern discipleship. Every person, he observes, is already being formed—by habits, devices, and culture—and the question is never whether we are apprentices but to whom. Citing Romans 12:2, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind,” he reminds readers that formation is inevitable; the only choice is its direction. The first act of apprenticeship, therefore, is presence: to live in conscious, moment-by-moment awareness of the risen Christ. Drawing from John 15:4–5, “Abide in me, and I in you… apart from me you can do nothing,” Comer describes union not as mystical vagueness but as relational participation—the life of the vine flowing through its branches. Presence becomes the antidote to distraction, echoing Colossians 3:1–3, where Paul commands believers to “set your minds on things above, where Christ is.” For Comer, this abiding awareness is the living root from which every other dimension of discipleship grows.
He sketches this presence through the practices of silence, solitude, and Sabbath, each a return to simplicity and unhurried communion. Pointing to Jesus’ own rhythm—“rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and prayed” (Mark 1:35) and “withdrew to desolate places to pray” (Luke 5:16)—Comer interprets such passages as invitations into the cadence of the Son’s life with the Father. Sabbath, he notes, is not merely cessation but participation in God’s delight (Genesis 2:2–3; Mark 2:27). Through these patterns the restless soul learns the quiet steadiness of Christ’s own peace, the rest promised in Matthew 11:28–29, “Come to me… and you will find rest for your souls.” Thus the disciplines are not mechanical techniques but openings—ways of aligning time, body, and attention to the indwelling presence of the Spirit (Ephesians 3:16–17). Presence becomes both the ground and the grammar of apprenticeship: life lived in continual recollection of Christ within, until every ordinary moment hums with the awareness, “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).
Become like Him — Formation as Participation
The second movement of Practicing the Way deepens Comer’s theology of union through transformation, grounding it firmly in Scripture’s vision of sanctification as participation in divine life. He begins with Romans 8:29, reminding that those whom God foreknew “He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son.” Spiritual formation, Comer explains, is the Spirit’s patient re-creation of our interior structure—desires, instincts, and reflexes—so that Christ’s likeness becomes not merely admired but embodied. He contrasts the cultural “default setting” of formation (Ephesians 2:2–3, being shaped by “the course of this world”) with the deliberate yielding of the self to the Spirit’s renewing power (Romans 12:2). Borrowing Paul’s image of transformation—“we all… are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Corinthians 3:18)—Comer calls this the automation of love: a condition in which virtue flows freely because the heart’s circuitry has been rewired by grace. Formation, then, is not moral training but the slow artistry of the Spirit who reorders the mind and affections until Christ Himself becomes the believer’s native impulse.
Here the book reaches its richest theological clarity. Comer insists that apprenticeship is not the pursuit of moral polish but the participation in divine life, echoing Galatians 2:20, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” Union, he argues, is not static but kinetic—a living reciprocity between the indwelling Christ and the responsive disciple (Philippians 2:12–13). His language of habitus—the re-patterning of the self through repeated practices—recalls the early church’s exhortation to “train yourself for godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7–8) and the letter to the Hebrews where maturity comes through “constant practice” (Hebrews 5:14). “You become what you practice,” Comer writes, translating this apostolic principle into the language of modern psychology. For him, grace does not abolish effort; it sanctifies it, transforming discipline into delight. Every repeated act of obedience becomes participation in the Spirit’s reshaping of the soul, until love itself becomes instinctive—the spontaneous overflow of a heart fully united to Christ.
Do as He Did — Action as the Overflow of Union
The third arc of Practicing the Way turns outward. Having dwelt with Christ and been reshaped in His likeness, the apprentice now acts in His pattern. Comer anchors this movement in 1 John 2:6, “Whoever says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which He walked.” The pattern of Jesus’ life—healing the sick (Matthew 10:7–8), proclaiming good news (Mark 1:14–15), welcoming the stranger (Luke 14:12–14), feeding the hungry (Mark 6:41–44), and confronting injustice (Luke 4:18–19)—becomes, in Comer’s framework, not a distant ideal but a practical vocation. To do as He did is the fruit of abiding union; the Spirit who indwells believers is the same Spirit who empowered the incarnate Son to serve and to love unto death (Philippians 2:5–8). This participation in Christ’s mission is not an optional extension of discipleship but its natural culmination, the visible expression of the inner communion described in John 20:21, “As the Father has sent Me, even so I am sending you.”
Comer’s tone throughout this section is quietly pastoral rather than triumphalist. The disciple’s deeds, he writes, are the spontaneous overflow of divine love—“We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19). Acts of hospitality (Romans 12:13), generosity (2 Corinthians 9:7), mercy (Luke 6:36), and proclamation (Matthew 28:19–20) are not strategies but sacraments of communion, extensions of Christ’s own compassion into the fractures of the world. Comer deliberately avoids abstraction, stressing small fidelity—the faithfulness of the table, the neighbor, the parish, and the street. In his hands, the imitation of Christ becomes a humble realism: discipleship lived not in spectacle but in constancy, not in spiritual heroics but in the quiet endurance of everyday love, echoing Colossians 3:17, “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus.”
A Rule of Life — The Trellis of Grace
The practical centerpiece of Practicing the Way—and the heart of Comer’s legacy—is his recovery of the Rule of Life. He portrays it as a “trellis” supporting the vine of devotion, echoing John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches.” A trellis, he explains, does not cause growth but provides the structure through which life can flourish. Every life, he argues, already operates by a rule—habits and patterns that silently shape desire. Citing 1 Corinthians 9:24–27, Comer urges believers to live with intentional spiritual rhythm, “running in such a way as to obtain the prize,” rather than by unexamined chaos. To craft a conscious Rule is to align one’s time, body, relationships, work, and rest with the Way of Jesus, forming a daily liturgy of abiding. In this sense, the Rule becomes a living exegesis of Ephesians 5:15–16, “Look carefully then how you walk… making the best use of the time, because the days are evil.”
Comer’s Rule integrates nine enduring practices—Sabbath, solitude, prayer, fasting, Scripture, community, generosity, service, and witness—each drawn from the pattern of Jesus’ own life. He references Mark 2:27 to show Sabbath as divine gift, Mark 1:35 for solitude, Luke 11:1–2 for prayer, and Matthew 6:16–18 for fasting. Scripture meditation reflects Psalm 1:2, community echoes Acts 2:42, generosity draws from 2 Corinthians 9:7, service from John 13:14–15, and witness from Matthew 28:19–20. Each practice is not moral effort but participation in divine life—habits that make space for grace. Comer likens this to the “training” Paul commends in 1 Timothy 4:7–8, “Train yourself for godliness.” He advises small beginnings, communal accountability (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10), and seasonal reevaluation, emphasizing that the Rule must remain dynamic and life-giving. In his portrayal, practice becomes participation—the doing of what Jesus did, not as mimicry but as manifestation of shared life, “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).
A. What Is a Rule of Life? — A Garden Trellis for the Soul
Comer defines a Rule of Life as a pattern of practices and relational rhythms that help the disciple remain in abiding union with Jesus. The term rule comes from the Latin regula—the same root as “trellis”—a frame that guides a living vine. Drawing from John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches,” he teaches that the trellis does not make the plant grow but simply supports the life already pulsing within it. Every person, Comer insists, already lives by a rule, usually unspoken and chaotic; the task of apprenticeship is to make that rule conscious, ordered, and Christ-centered. The Rule is not legalism but love structured into time: a design for flourishing that creates the conditions for grace to circulate freely. Comer’s goal is simple—turn spiritual aspiration into embodied rhythm.
B. Why a Rule Matters — Guarding Habits, Guiding Loves
In this section Comer explains why structure is essential for transformation. Our habits, he says, always disciple us; therefore, the follower of Jesus must craft habits that lead toward Him rather than away. He cites Romans 12:2, “Be transformed by the renewal of your mind,” and insists that renewal must be ritualized in daily and weekly routines. The Rule guards what he calls the “five centers of formation”—time, body, relationships, work, and rest—helping each conform to Christ’s pattern. He reminds that even Jesus lived by rhythm: prayer at dawn (Mark 1:35), work by day, rest by night, and Sabbath joy (Luke 4:16; Mark 2:27). The Rule thus becomes a “spiritual architecture” that protects attention from the tyranny of distraction and aligns affection with the kingdom of God.
C. The Nine Core Practices — How to Live the Way of Jesus
Comer then outlines nine specific practices—each modeled in the life of Christ and rooted in Scripture—through which disciples learn to remain in His love:
Sabbath – A full day each week for worship, rest, delight, and restoration (Genesis 2:2–3; Exodus 20:8–11; Mark 2:27).
Solitude – Regular withdrawal from noise to meet the Father in secret (Mark 1:35; Luke 5:16).
Prayer – Both set times and spontaneous communion (Luke 11:1–2; 1 Thessalonians 5:17).
Fasting – Periodic abstention from food or comfort to sharpen dependence on God (Matthew 6:16–18).
Scripture – Daily reading and meditation on God’s Word (Psalm 1:2; 2 Timothy 3:16–17).
Community – Covenant relationships that nurture confession, accountability, and joy (Acts 2:42–47; Hebrews 10:24–25).
Service – Humble acts of love patterned after Christ washing His disciples’ feet (John 13:14–15; Mark 10:45).
Witness – Sharing the good news of the kingdom in word and deed (Matthew 28:19–20; Acts 1:8).
Comer encourages readers to begin modestly—perhaps one or two practices at a time—so that devotion remains joyful rather than burdensome. Over time, these disciplines become what he calls “the automation of love,” habits through which divine life flows naturally.
D. How to Build Your Own Rule — Small, Simple, Sustainable
After presenting the nine practices, Comer gives a step-by-step process for crafting a personal or communal Rule.
Name your season of life. Be realistic about capacity and calling (Ecclesiastes 3:1).
Discern your loves. Identify what draws you toward or away from Christ (Matthew 6:21).
Choose a few core practices. Focus on quality, not quantity.
Schedule them concretely. Block time for Scripture, prayer, Sabbath, and fellowship—structure your calendar around abiding, not activity.
Share it in community. Let trusted friends hold you accountable (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10).
Review it seasonally. Adapt your Rule as life changes; allow it to breathe like a living organism.
Comer urges that a good Rule will be honest, humble, and flexible. He compares it to “training wheels for love,” helping disciples learn balance until grace becomes second nature.
E. The Rule in Community — Practicing the Way Together
Comer insists the Rule is not meant for private asceticism but for shared apprenticeship. Drawing from Acts 2:42, he envisions small groups of believers adopting common rhythms—shared meals, prayer, service, and Scripture—so that spiritual formation becomes mutual rather than solitary. The church, he writes, must be re-imagined as “a community of practice,” not merely a weekly event. Through communal Rule, disciples help one another stay with Jesus when individual resolve falters, embodying Hebrews 3:13, “Encourage one another daily… that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.”
F. The Fruits of a Rule — Freedom, Joy, and Grace
The Rule’s purpose, Comer concludes, is not control but communion. When lived with sincerity, it yields the freedom of rhythm rather than rigidity: unhurried time, deeper relationships, and a heart more attuned to Christ’s peace. Echoing Galatians 5:25, he writes that a Spirit-shaped Rule allows us to “keep in step with the Spirit.” Grace flows through structure, just as a river flows through its banks. The final fruit is joy—the same joy Jesus promised in John 15:11, “that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” For Comer, the Rule of Life is therefore nothing less than the framework for union through practice—a pattern of days through which divine life takes form in the disciple’s own flesh, habits, and hours.
Take up Your Cross — The Cost and the Joy
The final chapters of Practicing the Way return to the paradox of grace and surrender. To follow the Way, Comer writes, is to take up the cross—the surrender of autonomy, the acceptance of limitation, the willingness to die daily. He grounds this in Luke 9:23, “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me.” True apprenticeship, he explains, involves the daily relinquishing of self-rule in order to live under Christ’s gentle lordship. Comer contrasts the cost of discipleship with what he calls the cost of non-discipleship, echoing Matthew 16:24–26, where Jesus warns that gaining the world at the expense of one’s soul is ultimate loss. Refusal to follow, Comer reminds, exacts its own ruin—a slow spiritual decay beneath the illusion of freedom. Yet the cross, rightly seen, is not mere burden but the narrow gate to joy: “Whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.”
For Comer, the cross-shaped life is entrance into communion with the Crucified and Risen One. He points to Romans 6:4–5, where baptism symbolizes dying and rising with Christ, and to Philippians 3:10, where Paul longs “to know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings.” The way of surrender thus becomes participation in resurrection life—death as doorway to renewal. Comer writes tenderly of failure and of beginning again, echoing Lamentations 3:22–23, “His mercies are new every morning.” Grace, he insists, is the atmosphere of discipleship; the apprentice lives not by perfection but by perseverance within mercy. To take up the cross is therefore not an act of grim austerity but an awakening to joy—the gladness of sharing Christ’s life and love, as He Himself declared: “These things I have spoken to you, that My joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full” (John 15:11).
Stylistic and Pastoral Distinctives
Comer writes as one who walks the road he describes. His words are pastoral but unpretentious, grounded more in Scripture than in style. He speaks as a disciple still learning, echoing Paul’s own confession: “Not that I have already obtained this, or am already perfect, but I press on.” That honesty makes his teaching believable. Discipleship, as he presents it, is not a system to master but a life to grow into. His tone follows the gentleness of Christ’s own call: “Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me.” Formation, for Comer, is not performance but participation—a shared life of grace, one step at a time.
Practicing the Way holds together the truth of theology and the substance of ordinary days. Comer writes not as a theorist, but as one learning to live what he teaches. Like Paul, he disciplines himself so that his life confirms his words (1 Cor. 9:27). Yet he does not harden into rule; he remains open to the frailty and growth that mark every soul beginning the spiritual path. His counsel reflects James’s call to be “doers of the word, and not hearers only” (Jas. 1:22). When he turns to the older wisdom of silence, simplicity, and stability, it is not nostalgia but obedience—“whatever you do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Col. 3:17). His vision is not of theory but of practice, where faith is formed in the quiet labor of ordinary days.
Synthesis — Union by Action
At its heart, Practicing the Way is a theology of union expressed through practice—a life shaped by the pattern of Scripture. To be with Jesus is to enter the stillness of contemplative union: “Abide in Me, and I in you… apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:4–5). To become like Him is the work of transformation, “to be conformed to the image of His Son” (Rom. 8:29). And to do as He did is participation in His life: “Whoever says he abides in Him ought to walk in the same way in which He walked” (1 John 2:6). These movements—presence, formation, and mission—trace the rhythm of divine life within the believer. The Rule of Life, then, is not a structure by which one ascends, but a posture by which one abides. It orders time so that grace might find room to dwell—“If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit” (Gal. 5:25). It is the pattern of grace meeting the hours, the sanctification of the ordinary.
Comer’s vision binds the ancient and the near at hand. He joins Benedict’s ordered stability with the immediacy of evangelical faith. His counsel echoes Paul’s charge, “Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Col. 3:17), and James’s reminder that faith finds its wholeness in action (Jas. 2:22). In reclaiming the discipline of ordered life, Comer restores the nearness of obedience—prayer given form in the day’s rhythm, mercy practiced among one’s own, love carried quietly through habit. Practicing the Way becomes the daily embodiment of Christ’s life within His people: “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col. 1:27). Union, as Comer describes it, is not a theory to be understood but a grace to be lived—faith traced through time, until every act bears the likeness of its Lord.
Conclusion
Practicing the Way stands as one of the most lucid contemporary guides to embodied discipleship. Its language of apprenticeship re-enchants daily obedience, grounding spirituality in imitation that flows from indwelling. The Rule of Life it commends can be adopted, adapted, or expanded, but its essence remains: to practice the life of Jesus until His life becomes our own.
If the modern church has often separated belief from being, Comer’s work reunites them. To practice the Way is to live our union with Christ openly—thinking, resting, working, and loving as extensions of His presence in the world.
Christian Proficiency by Martin Thornton is a published work on disciplined spirituality and serves as a practical and theological guide for integrating faith into daily life. Thornton emphasizes the concept of “proficiency” as the mature stage of Christian discipleship, marked by disciplined growth, balanced spiritual practices, and a deepening relationship with God. He advocates for a “threefold rule” comprising regular corporate worship, personal prayer, and communal office prayer, encouraging Christians to develop a rule of life that harmonizes these elements. While firmly rooted in Anglican spirituality, Thornton’s insights resonate with all Christians seeking to live faithfully, transforming ordinary routines into pathways for holiness and devotion.
Christian Proficiency was first published in 1959, during a period of renewed interest in practical and theological approaches to Christian discipleship within the Anglican tradition. Its author, Martin Thornton (1915–1986), was an English Anglican priest, theologian, and influential writer on spirituality. Known for his emphasis on integrating historical Christian practices with the needs of modern believers, Thornton championed a practical, accessible approach to spiritual growth that resonated with both clergy and laity. Thornton’s writing is marked by his ability to blend theological depth with practical application, making his insights enduringly relevant for Christians seeking to deepen their faith.
Living a Proficient Faith
Christian Proficiency is introduced as a state of steady progress beyond the beginning and less mature stages of faith and practice. Where the proficient Christian adopts spiritual practices into daily life where consistent attitudes and actions correspond to a life commitment, it’s more than a lifestyle as it’s an intentional embrace of faith and practice outflowing from personal action. It stems from ongoing effort as the fruit of faith, and it’s a personal outworking of grace characterized by perseverance and intentionality toward regular prayer, sacramental participation, self-discipline, and engagement with the church community.
While the terms “proficiency” and “efficiency” or “effective” bring to mind secular categories of thought, Thornton seeks to capture what it means for Christians to practice their faith within the context of the activity of becoming a mature believer on a fruitful life trajectory. More specifically, more than going through the motions but living out a framework of life that reaches into the core of being and identity.
The word “proficiency” carries meaning having a semantic range centered on the idea of competence and skill in a particular area. At its core, it refers to the ability to perform tasks effectively, often with precision and expertise. This general sense applies broadly, from technical disciplines to creative or practical endeavors. Beyond mere competence, proficiency frequently implies mastery—an advanced level of understanding or capability that distinguishes the proficient individual as highly skilled or knowledgeable. Historically, the term also conveyed the idea of progress or growth, especially in personal or intellectual development, highlighting a journey toward expertise rather than just the end state.
In this book’s context, proficiency takes on a distinct meaning to imply fluency in practice concerning the spiritual life. For instance, in theological and spiritual contexts, as seen the term denotes growth in faith and the disciplined integration of spiritual practices into daily life. Despite its variations in meaning, proficiency always emphasizes the result of intentional effort, whether through practical application, ongoing improvement, or advanced mastery. Across all its uses, the word encapsulates the journey of growth and the excellence achieved through dedication.
Spiritual Direction
Thornton views spiritual direction as a way to understand biblical and traditional discipleship, offering a framework for individuals to grow continuously in their faith. Unlike mere counseling or mentorship, spiritual direction encourages ongoing development, echoing the purpose of God’s Word as described in 2 Timothy 3:16-17: to equip believers for every good work. However, Thornton focuses on this growth without emphasizing specific markers like personal holiness, sanctification, or the fruits of the Spirit. Instead, he frames spiritual maturity as an increasing “proficiency”—a call to move beyond basic Christian practices toward a disciplined and deeply integrated faith. This growth involves active cooperation with God’s grace, not as a means of earning salvation but as a way of living out the Gospel in daily life. Thornton also encourages laypeople, affirming that spiritual maturity is not reserved for clergy or monastics but is attainable for all Christians committed to deepening their faith.
The Rule
Overall, the importance of the Rule as a guiding principle for living a disciplined and spiritually mature Christian life, drawing inspiration from the Rule of Saint Benedict. However, Thornton clarifies that the Rule is far more than a rigid list of “do’s” or an overly ascetical approach to existence; it is an intentional embrace of the Christian life as it was meant to be lived. To be “regular” in one’s faith is to be “proficient,” a connection deeply rooted in ascetical theology. Thornton suggests that “Rule” is best understood as “Order,” representing the harmony and structure underpinning a civilized and purposeful life.
Thornton further clarifies key aspects of the Rule, highlighting its pastoral and flexible nature. First, a Rule is “embraced,” not “promised,” signifying a voluntary commitment rather than an obligation. It directly opposes legalism, avoiding the pitfalls of rigid Pharisaic practices. A true Rule is neither artificial nor burdensome but is instead the principle that brings order and rhythm to life. Breaching a Rule is not inherently sinful, as its purpose is formative rather than punitive. Lastly, Thornton insists that the Rule must remain variable, adapting to each individual’s unique circumstances and needs, ensuring it remains a practical and life-giving framework for spiritual growth.
On a personal level, the book further revealed to me the importance of having a personal Rule as a practical framework for spiritual growth, recommending that it be developed in consultation with a spiritual director whenever possible. A well-formed Rule should become unobtrusive, integrating seamlessly into daily life rather than feeling like an artificial imposition. Simplicity is key—Thornton emphasizes that a Rule should be as straightforward as possible while developing spiritual efficiency and depth. It should encourage creative discipline, challenging me to grow without becoming an undue burden or source of stress.
Thornton also highlights the communal dimension of living out a Rule, particularly within the Anglican tradition. Many individuals adopt a Rule in the context of religious orders, such as “oblates, tertiaries, or companions,” or through participation in a prayer group with friends or parishioners. Joining an established community of prayer—whether a monastery, a fellowship, or even a parish—provides a collective commitment to a Rule grounded in close social proximity and shared spiritual goals. This communal approach reinforces accountability, encouragement, and a sense of belonging, making the Rule a vibrant and life-giving foundation for Christian discipleship.
Presence as Spiritual Practice
According to the author, the proficient Christian experiences an awareness of Christ’s presence throughout daily life, whether during routine tasks or during moments of great significance. This ongoing consciousness of God is not confined to set prayer times but is intentionally set within daily existence. It is the practice of the presence of God, where prayer is not restricted to church attendance, feast day observances, or structured prayer but is instead an active and continual recollection of Christ’s nearness. Whether engaging in corporate prayer, personal devotions, or commemorating the saints among the great cloud of witnesses, the proficient live with an acute sense that every moment is an opportunity for communion with God.
Thornton explains that this awareness is deeply connected to the threefold reality of the Church—Earth, Paradise, and Heaven—which together form a continuous act of worship. Regardless of whether one is alive in time and space or dwelling in eternity, the act of recollection is a way of living eternity in the present moment. The Christian’s worship transcends time, reflecting the reality that divine life is not bound by past, present, or future. As Thornton writes, “The Christian has… a peculiar dual character. Being a life in which nature, without any destruction of its own proper being, is progressively supernaturalized, the Christian is, in one sense, successively becoming what, in another sense, he already is. He increasingly makes his own the supernatural and eternal life which is the life of God. Hence on the supernatural plane he transcends the separation of past-present-and-future.” In this way, recollection is not merely a spiritual practice but a profound participation in eternity while still rooted in the temporal world.
This participation in eternity, or recollection, is a vital link between time and eternity, earth and heaven, nature and grace. It is not merely a passive awareness but an active engagement with the eternal now of God’s presence. The Church’s liturgical life provides tangible ways to cultivate this awareness, particularly through the Kalendar of the Book of Common Prayer, which structures time in a way that mirrors the rhythms of heaven. Following the cycles of feasts, fasts, and seasons, the Christian sees earthly time as a reflection of eternal reality. Recollection is not an abstract concept but a lived experience—an intentional response to “the something that has happened to us,” transforming ordinary moments into encounters with the divine.
Internal Prayer, Meditation, and Contemplation
Thornton wrote that mental prayer is both valid and necessary in the Christian life, functioning as a distinct yet complementary practice alongside verbal prayer. Thornton also affirms that the use of mental images can aid devotion, particularly when centered on the Person of Christ. He reassures the reader not to be troubled by the natural emergence of meditative images, as they can serve as valuable tools in deepening one’s relationship with God. Drawing on the insights of Saint Teresa of Ávila, Thornton emphasizes that our imaginative contemplation of Christ during mental prayer is both valid and spiritually beneficial, provided it remains grounded in scripturally sound Christology. This means that visualizing Christ in a glorified state—such as envisioning His resurrected presence or meditating on His earthly ministry—is acceptable, so long as these images do not reflect theological errors such as Nestorianism, Arianism, or Apollinarianism, which distort the true nature of Christ’s divinity and humanity.
Beyond Christological meditation, Thornton also advocates for using iconography, sacred art, or images, for intercessory prayer to Mary and the saints as valuable aids in devotion. According to the author, when rightly understood, these practices support a deeper engagement with mental prayer and reinforce the unity of the faithful across time and eternity. In keeping with this principle, Thornton also advocates for the presence of the Crucifixas a necessary fixture in every church and every home, serving as a powerful focal point for prayer and contemplation. Through these visual and devotional aids, mental prayer becomes a way of meditating on divine truths and immersing oneself in the living reality of Christ and the communion of saints.
The Depth of Prayer
Thornton defines colloquy as the practice of prayer understood as a dialogue with Christ, rather than a monologue of human petition. This dialogue is structured through the four essential components of prayer: Petition, Intercession, Thanksgiving, and Adoration. Thornton contrasts this with the Reformed and Protestant perspective, which typically sees prayer as one-way communication from the believer to God, while God speaks to us through His Word, Scripture. From this view, any claim that God speaks directly to an individual in private revelation would resemble prophetic utterance, whereas Reformed traditions generally affirm the inner witness and convictions of the Holy Spirit as a non-verbal form of divine guidance. Thornton asserts that private prayer without this mystical engagement of the Holy Spirit becomes a monologue rather than a dialogue, lacking the richness of true communion with God.
The author also examines the differences in prayer emphasis between Protestants and Catholics, noting that Protestant devotion often focuses on personal petitions, whereas Catholic spirituality is rooted in the Mass and the Divine Office. While Protestant prayer often centers on personal needs and supplications, Catholic prayer incorporates liturgical and communal worship, allowing individuals to enter into a structured pattern of devotion. The use of formal prayers in Catholic practice does not diminish their authenticity but rather aligns personal prayer with the broader worship of the Church. Moreover, Thornton emphasizes that Caroline English, with its elaborate and formal phrasing, has no necessary place in private, informal prayer, which should be more intimate and reflective. In private prayers, he views such ornate language as dishonest, while in a liturgical setting, such language use is more appropriate to a limited extent. He also advises that while the Authorized Version (KJV) is suitable for liturgical use, the Revised Standard Version (RSV) is preferred for personal bible study, and modern translations provide fresh inspiration for meditative prayer.
Further along in this chapter, Thornton describes colloquy as an active and disciplined engagement in prayer, requiring meditative preparation and honesty, particularly in petition and intercession. Yet he clarifies that supplication is a composite term that blends petition and intercession, reflecting personal needs and prayers on behalf of others. True intercession, he argues, goes beyond verbal requests—it involves placing oneself mentally and spiritually in solidarity with the hardships of another. In this sense, intercessory prayer carries a sacrificial quality, where the intercessor shares in the burdens of others, at least at an emotional or contemplative level. Within a structured prayer life, praying the Divine Office becomes an effective way to incorporate intercession into daily devotion. Still, Thornton acknowledges that moments of urgent prayer—particularly in times of crisis—can rightly interrupt a person’s established Rule of Prayer.
A personal Rule of Prayer ensures consistency in devotion and brings order to the complexity of multiple intercessory requests. Then Thornton notes that thanksgiving is closely tied to intercession because recognizing God’s presence in both successes and failures should naturally result in gratitude. Prayer, he insists, should be a continual act throughout daily life, shaping how individuals perceive and respond to God’s providence. By recalling God’s faithfulness even in difficult moments, the believer develops a habit of thankfulness, reinforcing the reality that prayer is not merely a request-driven practice but a form of relationship and communion with God.
Ultimately, Thornton asserts that adoration is the highest form of prayer, the culmination of all spiritual and mystical dialogue with God. He relates this to the biblical Greek term latreia (λατρεία), which denotes the supreme form of divine worship given exclusively to God. In contrast, he acknowledges dulia (δουλεία) as the veneration given to saints, sacred persons, and holy images, reinforcing the Catholic and Orthodox distinction between worship and honor. This structured approach to colloquy in prayer, guided by set forms and spiritual discipline, ultimately leads the believer to the fullness of worship. Through this rhythm of prayer—petition, intercession, thanksgiving, and adoration—the soul moves beyond mere words to a deep encounter with the divine, wherein adoration becomes the perfect expression of one’s relationship with God.
Penitence, Examination, and Confession
The author further writes about the necessity of Penance as an integral component of the Rule he outlines throughout his work. Penance, far from being an isolated spiritual exercise, functions in harmony with the broader framework of Christian discipline—encompassing counsel from a spiritual director, mental prayer, and recollection. These elements work together to guide a well-ordered, spiritually mature life, reinforcing the believer’s journey toward holiness.
Yet, without specific biblical support, Thornton says that the practice of confession, if pursued in isolation, will not yield its full spiritual benefits. Furthermore, those who confess their sins regularly but neglect corporate worship and the saying of the Divine Office will find their spiritual development stunted. By comparison, it’s my view that Christian life is not merely about acknowledging and confessing sin; it flourishes through active participation in the life of the Church, full immersion reading of Scripture, fellowship with other believers, and the sharing of one’s faith. Without these, spiritual growth remains constrained, and the believer risks becoming spiritually stagnant.
Addressing the persistence of temptation, Thornton offers a realistic and encouraging perspective. And, in my view, temptations will certainly be an ever-present concern to the believer until the very moment of death. Yet, he insists, Christian growth is marked not by an eradication of all sinful inclinations but by an increasing sorrow for sin. True penitence deepens as one matures in the faith. However, he clearly warns against anxious fixation on past sins, reminding the reader that worry about one’s failures is itself a sin—rooted in doubt regarding the mercy and love of God. Instead, he exhorts believers to approach self-examination with regularity, quietude, and efficiency, embracing it as a means of liberation rather than a burdensome obligation. In this sense, the Rule provides structure and stability, guiding the conscience rather than oppressing it.
As one grows in the knowledge of God, penitence also deepens. A clearer vision of divine holiness necessarily brings about a greater awareness of human sinfulness, leading to a more profound contrition and joy. Yet, this growth in penitence is not meant to produce despair; rather, it fosters humility and reliance on God’s grace. The Rule serves as a training ground for the conscience, shaping it in accordance with divine truth and guarding against both laxity and scrupulosity.
Thornton recommends a manual structured around the Seven Capital Sins to prepare for confession. Yet, from the importance of the Ten Commandments and Christ’s imperatives in the Gospels, his emphasis on the Capital Sins suggests a practical and limited approach to self-examination. While Thornton thinks that the Decalogue and Christ’s imperatives roll into the theology of capital sins, it’s best to focus on those areas and not bother with the rest. However, I believe a more holistic perspective would incorporate all three—the Seven Capital Sins, the Ten Commandments, and Christ’s teachings—as essential guides for the Christian seeking to live according to the Rule of Prayer within daily life.
However, one assertion of Thornton’s invites strong disagreement: the suggestion that rectors or parish priests might “forget all about it” when individuals confess their sins before them and receive Penance. Such a notion seems entirely implausible and even absurd. The gravity of confession, the pastoral responsibility of the priest, and the spiritual significance of absolution make it unlikely—if not impossible—that such matters would simply slip from the mind of the confessor. The sacramental act of reconciliation carries profound weight, both for the penitent and the priest, and it is unthinkable that it would be treated with casual indifference.
Thornton’s reflections in this chapter reinforce a vision of Penance as a necessary, regular, and deeply formative aspect of Christian living. When integrated into the broader Rule, confession becomes a means of growth, not merely a routine admission of guilt. It aligns the believer more closely with God’s mercy, nurtures true contrition, and fosters a disciplined life of prayer, worship, and fellowship. In this way, according to Thornton, Penance is not a solitary act but a necessary component of a rich and ordered spiritual life.
Aids to Deeper Formation
Thornton further brings attention to the importance of theological and devotional reading as essential components of a believer’s spiritual development. Each serves a distinct purpose: theology provides intellectual clarity and doctrinal foundation, while devotional reading nurtures personal affection and emotional connection to God. However, Thornton advises against an imbalance in either direction. Too much theological study can lead to a cold intellectualism. Conversely, an excess of devotional reading may produce excessive sentimentality, fostering an emotionally driven spirituality that lacks depth and structure. True proficiency in the Christian life requires a balanced integration of both, ensuring that knowledge informs devotion and devotion enriches understanding.
Thornton’s perspective on fellowship and evangelism is somewhat distinct from the emphasis found in Philemon 1:6-7, which speaks of sharing faith in a way that produces mutual encouragement and spiritual enrichment. He approaches fellowship primarily as a utility or aid to prayer rather than as a broad means of spiritual growth or mission. While he acknowledges the value of communal gatherings—such as luncheons, festivals, and informal church events—he does not view these as the core of Christian fellowship. Instead, in my view, this places greater emphasis on structured accountability within small, intentional relationships, particularly those formed under the guidance of a spiritual director (or mentor more spiritually mature). I believe fellowship involves modeling godly character and virtue, typically in 1:1 or 3:1 settings, where deeper accountability and discipleship can occur. This form of fellowship is not merely social but formative, leading to joy and spiritual maturity.
Much of Thornton’s work about supplemental aids is not for general spiritual development per se but rather the role of elements that serve as “aids to prayer.” In this context, liturgical seasons play a critical role. They are not merely commemorative cycles but reinforcing mechanisms that strengthen and deepen the believer’s prayer life. Each season presents an opportunity for focused reflection, drawing attention to particular areas of spiritual need. Advent, Lent, and other seasons of the Church calendar serve as times of renewal and recalibration, prompting believers to engage more intentionally in their spiritual disciplines.
One of the most practical aids to prayer, according to Thornton, is the spiritual retreat. Retreats provide a dedicated space and time for believers to step away from the distractions of daily life and center their focus wholly on God. He highlights several key benefits of retreats:
They foster deeper spiritual health by creating an environment where participants are surrendered and immersed in silence before God.
They provide an opportunity for forming new and meaningful spiritual connections with people who might not otherwise engage in Christian relationships fruitfully.
They accelerate the process of internalizing the Rule, helping participants become more familiar with the structured prayer and lessons found in the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) and apply them consistently.
They serve as a source of renewal, especially for those experiencing spiritual dryness. A well-structured retreat can reignite devotion, offering rest, restoration, and a renewed sense of purpose.
Thornton presents these aids to prayer not as ends in themselves but as tools for deepening one’s spiritual discipline. Whether through balanced reading, intentional fellowship, engagement with the liturgical calendar, or participation in retreats, each of these practices strengthens and supports a well-ordered life of prayer.
Proficiency Through Hardships & Modernity
In the final sections of the book Christian Proficiency, Martin Thornton brings his work to a close by offering pastoral guidance and practical counsel for navigating the complexities and challenges of modern life. Having laid out a framework for Proficient Christian living, he now turns to the difficulties that believers inevitably face, both in their personal spiritual lives and in their engagement with the world.
Thornton acknowledges that seasons of hardship and trial are unavoidable for the faithful. These include spiritual dryness, in which prayer feels empty or fruitless; scrupulosity, excessive anxiety over sin that can become spiritually paralyzing; periodicity, or the tendency for spiritual enthusiasm to wane and fluctuate over time; and distractions, both internal and external, that disrupt the life of prayer. Far from being arbitrary or meaningless, Thornton affirms that all of these experiences serve sovereign purposes. Trials refine the believer, teaching perseverance, humility, and reliance on grace rather than on mere human effort.
Beyond these internal struggles, Thornton also recognizes the external challenges posed by modern life. He does not shy away from the reality that contemporary circumstances often complicate, interfere with, or even seem to contradict spiritual formation and the pursuit of maturity in Christ. Professional obligations, family responsibilities, social expectations, and the increasing pace of life can make it difficult to adhere strictly to the Rule of life he advocates. Yet rather than advocating rigidity or despair, he offers principles and creative approaches to maintaining commitments to prayer, church attendance, and other spiritual disciplines within the constraints of one’s vocation and state in life. His counsel is practical: rather than viewing obstacles as barriers, believers should seek alternative ways to integrate spiritual habits into daily living, adapting their Rule as necessary while maintaining its core intent.
At the heart of Thornton’s approach is Ascetical Theology, which he defines as the science of cooperation with the Holy Spirit. Spiritual growth is not about forcing oneself into an external mold but about responding faithfully to God’s grace, discerning how best to live out one’s faith amid changing circumstances. As both guide and sustainer, the Holy Spirit directs this process, ensuring that the believer’s efforts are neither in vain nor misplaced.
Thornton also addresses the role of apologetics and evangelism within the life of a Proficient Christian. He firmly rejects confrontational or aggressive street evangelism, which often devolves into fruitless arguments and disputes over doctrine, philosophy, or personal beliefs. Instead, he advocates for a more organic, relational approach to sharing the faith—one that prioritizes witness within one’s immediate sphere of influence. Family, friends, colleagues, classmates, and social circles provide the most fruitful context for evangelism, as these relationships offer opportunities for authentic, personal engagement rather than impersonal debate.
Regarding apologetics, Thornton warns that Proficients must resist the temptation to reduce religion to mere intellectual discourse. Christianity is not primarily an abstract philosophy or an intellectual system; it is a personal and communal living faith. It is best demonstrated, not argued, and a life visibly shaped by Christian principles is far more persuasive and compelling than the efforts of a street preacher engaging in polemics. A Proficient’s evangelism should therefore stem from lived witness rather than from rhetorical persuasion.
Ultimately, Thornton reminds the believer that the Holy Spirit is the supreme director and unifier of all Christian efforts. In a world filled with distractions, difficulties, and conflicting responsibilities, the Holy Spirit harmonizes our intentions, desires, and actions, ensuring that even in ambiguity and struggle, the faithful continue to grow in Christ. Through this divine guidance, Proficients navigate both personal challenges and the broader call to Christian witness, embodying a mature, stable, and prayer-centered faith amid a complex world.
The notion that biblical counseling is a type of discipleship is a different way of looking at the practice. Compared to the conventional way of living out a person’s life as a disciple of Christ, believers are expected to do what Christ instructed by how He defined discipleship in Scripture. Biblical counseling within a church is a ministry, but the character development and correction that happens through ministering the bible to people with real problems can have therapeutic value. Helping people who want counseling by getting into their lives involves specific one-to-one interest that requires a detailed understanding of a person and the issues faced. Targeted discipleship includes biblical counseling in contrast to group-wide discipleship in a church setting.
To further understand the meaning of biblical counseling, it would be helpful to understand how it is characterized. Or a description of the practice with distinctions about what it does as compared to secular counseling. Interpersonal counsel occurs between people with regularity as an informal type of ministry or discipleship. Still, the formal practice of biblical counseling should have a purpose where further levels of care by qualified counselors can offer more meaningful help to those with more deeply rooted issues. Qualified counselors acknowledge various clinical methods of help, but biblical counselors within the church context are better supported by God’s people. And how Scripture ministers to people at a more personal level don’t include dispensing biblical truth through its use by counsel that involves more careful attention unique to individual circumstances.
While problem resolution at individual granularity can be unpleasant, it’s a vital function of a pastor who helps people who undergo hardships. Pastors and elders minister to people not as a professional pursuit but as a ministry that reaches people to help solve problems that cause them to seek counseling for lasting change. Educated and qualified people who serve as counselors support churches as they minister to people. Still, vetting individuals for soul work should involve more than a standard background check among leaders. There are widespread abuse claims against leaders among evangelical churches that generally happen through counseling sessions that take advantage of the vulnerable. Counseling that occurs among elders and congregation members must involve much more than trust, but a high degree of certainty that there could not be undue social repercussions or stigma that follows without consequences to counselors. Confidentiality is of utmost importance as morally, ethically, and legally permitted by the magistrate.
Both public and private proclamation of God’s word is supported through Scripture (Acts 20:20). Meeting with people privately is a more direct and intimate way of getting at impediments to sanctification as believers mature in Christ. Compared to a public proclamation in the church where exhortations and corrective measures are not specific to a person, pastoral and elder messages are informative and potentially result in heart change among congregants. Individual and private sessions are more kinetic as they produce work within the believer to effect restoration or perspective among hardships. Pastoral counseling one-to-one with people was Apostle Paul’s work and of Christ himself. Shepherds of the church should do likewise. Refer to the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors (biblicalcounseling.com).
Pastors and elders are not to be isolated from church members and are integral to counseling efforts that occur with regularity involving elders, certified counselors, Stephen ministers, and the like. Biblical counseling takes persistence with people, and insights into the human heart, including a deeper understanding of Scripture. Bringing both together for the work of ministry as a biblical counselor is an integral and Scriptural approach to discipleship that honors God.
Today I completed a 220-page book entitled “Rooted: Connect with God, the Church, Your Purpose.” It is a workbook written by various authors for discipleship groups within local churches or small-class get-togethers. Day by day, throughout 10-weeks, time was spent in each session to return to the basics of discipleship temporarily. Initially, my time here began within a local church I am trying out. However, due to the Coronavirus lockdown, I finished the remainder of it on my own. To get an in-depth look at its substance and what it says to build or further reinforce one’s faith, relationship with the Lord, and fellowship with people.
The book originates from Mariners Church in Southern California, and the material is nearly 100% sound best I can tell as there are core topics that come from traditional biblical principles. It isn’t an in-depth look at the principles behind various topics, but it is a useful view at the surface of what new and developing Christians should largely understand and do to deepen their faith. Topics cover the importance of disciplines in the word, prayer, fellowship, giving, evangelism, baptism, communion, church commitment, worship, and others. The book also covers service in a pronounced way, both separately and interwoven throughout a number of topics given for reading, discussion, prayer, and Q&A.
While the book does well at honoring the tenants of the faith and guides believers in the basics, it, at times, emphasizes community development with subtle unwanted attention concerning social justice. Correctly, the book doesn’t make heretical attempts to attach the meaning of the gospel to assumed activist “obligations” of workmanship as an extension of faith. The book is very good but watch for any subtle emphasis on ideas of corrective and necessary actions to make good on “inequality” as a matter of activism opportunities or requirements within the Christian faith. If during discussions within Rooted sessions, it appears that the social justice worldview is somehow attached to the doctrines of justification and sanctification, the Rooted course you’re in is guided by principles harmful to you while also hostile to the gospel.
It is time well-spent within the book as a companion to fellowship and outreach for the Kingdom. Especially if you’re with like-hearted people, it is an essential reference for newcomers and for people who wish to become more grounded. It goes quite a distance in honoring Christ’s great commission (Matt 28:19-20), and it reaches quite far toward the service of people to originate volunteers for purposes of community development. So there is a noticeable distinction there as compared to more focused discipleship in service of the Kingdom of God. While both are not necessarily mutually exclusive, primary attention appears placed upon secondary people’s interests rather than interests centering on Christ, the gospel, obedience, and His Lordship, among others. Fruitful and deeply cultivated groundwork provides for more rooted discipleship that yields a rightful service to the community as a byproduct of Kingdom service. Most especially within the body of believers. The effort should be, First God, then people, whereas the Rooted book is first people, and “partner with God” for His desired outcomes.
Notice what Jesus Himself said in the book of Matthew. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey (observe or conform; τηρέω) all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” – Matt 28:19-20. While this command can include community service and development, the disciple is to become rooted in obedience and the Lordship of Christ and thereafter multiply or serve from there. Far too many Christ-followers do not know God’s word nor do they adhere to their commitments and precepts of Scripture because they are not well-grounded. With practice and consistency to build strength to have a persistent and powerful impact for God’s glory, His Kingdom, the needs of believers, and finally the community. The end outcome is not the advancement, prosperity, or well-being of the community, but it is to honor God the Most High and His interests. Which happens to include an authentic love for all people.
Various topics are reminiscent of the Navigator’s Wheel Illustration. Concerning the Lordship of Christ and the Christian lifestyle. This conventional and more historical illustration provides a comparative structure to build a balanced and concentrated effort concerning discipleship to accompany specific Scriptural support.
Scripture should be more interspersed throughout the Rooted lessons, especially when it comes to assertions made that are easily countered with other contexts of Scripture. I often found myself wanting to see a verse citation where instead, a reader is presented with meaningful opinions and views of influential church leaders. It’s good to see the comments of well-published leaders in the faith, but Scripture carries far more weight to validate and drive home points of interest in the workbook.
Overall, I recommend the book and the Rooted program for a basic introduction to early discipleship. It is time well invested and I really loved the lessons. However, check ideas, illustrations, and principles discussed in your small group with Scripture and be watchful about social justice advocacy or pressures that do not have a Kingdom-focused bearing on God’s purpose and mission for His glory, His Church, and everyone’s well-being.
In my experience, the Design for Discipleship (DFD) series for the development of Christ-followers is much better comparatively speaking. It is far more engaging, robust, comprehensive, and Scriptural. The DFD series is suitable for all new believers without undue divisiveness. The Rooted book is easy to complete without a lot of thought or effort, so it might be more suitable for groups and leadership that do not want to commit any time in God’s word along their growth trajectory. Moreover, the Rooted book does not require or involve the Bible as a companion. Design for Discipleship is rooted well below the surface with a biblical outcome for growth that lasts a lifetime.
Rooted Book Authors: Kenton Beshore (Sr Pastor Mariners, MA at Talbot School of Theology), Muriithi Wanjau (Sr. Pastor Mavuno Church Nairobi Kenya, M.Div Fuller Seminary), Peter Kasirivu (Founding Pastor, Gaba Community Church in Uganda), Samuel Metelus (Pastor, Church of God in Haiti), Camile and Esther Ntoto (Africa New Day Ministries in Democratic Republic of Congo, B.A. Intercultural Studies), Daniel Nunez (Sr. Pastor Ministerios Transformation El Nino, church planter), Adrian DeVisser (Sr. Pastor Kithu Sevana Ministries in Sri Lanka, M.A. in Missions from Columbia).
What would it look like if every command that Jesus spoke was isolated and identified in Scripture among their separate and individual verses? To get at Jesus’s words cherished and spoken in this way for a narrower and more specific view of what He requires. That is, mostly to understand with clarity what He has said and to desire Him in a better way. Yet also to set a center point in which biblical context is read and understood. That is what this table of verses below does.
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. ” – Jesus
Here are the words as spoken during His time here with us. With correlated verse references for ease and convenience of lookup and comparison. The table gives you the ability to sort and filter for search and retrieval.
When we are able to recognize what He has said, we begin to see a pattern. A pattern of love and obedience that brings us closer to Him. Wherefrom the beginning of our eternity in the Kingdom of God, it will become proclaimed for His glory. He was and is worthy of all honor and blessings.
Once we read and understand what He has said in these New Testament passages, we can further recognize meaningful implications and how they relate to what it is we are doing to fill them. As an effort to demonstrate that we are interested in serving Christ while honoring His word. To satisfy what He wants of us. With specificity, we are then, in turn, able to identify and track what it is we have done to demonstrate our love for Him. Again, with joy, to honor what He wants of us.
Number
Command of Christ
Verse (ESV)
Reference
1
Repent
"From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."
Matthew 4:17
2
Let not your heart be troubled
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
John 14:27,
John 16:33, Matthew 6:25-26, Philippians 4:6-7
3
Follow Me
"And he said to them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
Matthew 4:19
4
Rejoice
“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. "
Matthew 5:11–12
5
Let Your Light Shine
"In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. "
Matthew 5:16
6
Honor God’s Law
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. "
Matthew 5:17
7
Be Reconciled
"So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. "
Matthew 5:23–25
8
Do Not Lust
"But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell. "
Matthew 5:28–30
9
Keep Your Word
"Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil."
Matthew 5:37
10
Go the Second Mile
"You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you. "
Matthew 5:38–42
11
Love Your Enemies
"But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? "
Matthew 5:44–46
12
Be Perfect
"For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect."
Matthew 5:46–48
13
Practice Secret Disciplines
“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven."
Matthew 6:1
14
Lay up treasures in heaven
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. "
Matthew 6:19–20
15
Seek first the kingdom of God
"But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."
Matthew 6:33
16
Judge not
“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. "
Matthew 7:1-2
17
Do not throw your pearls to pigs
“Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you. "
Matthew 7:6
18
Ask, seek, and knock
“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. "
Matthew 7:7-8
19
Do unto others
“So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets."
Matthew 7:12
20
Choose the narrow way
“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. "
Matthew 7:13-14
21
Beware of false prophets
"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. "
Matthew 7:15
22
Pray for those who spread the word
"Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
Matthew 9:37-38
23
Be as shrewd as serpents
“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. "
Matthew 10:16, Romans 16:19
24
Fear God. Do not fear man
"And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell."
Matthew 10:28, Luke 12:4-5
25
Listen to God’s voice
"He who has ears to hear, let him hear."
Matthew 11:15, 13:9,
13:43, Mark 4:23, Luke 14:35, 1 Kings 19:11-13
26
Take my yoke
"Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:29-30
27
Honor your parents
"For God commanded, ‘Honor your father and your mother,’ and, ‘Whoever reviles father or mother must surely die.’ "
Matthew 15:4
28
Beware of false teaching
"How is it that you fail to understand that I did not speak about bread? Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” Then they understood that he did not tell them to beware of the leaven of bread, but of the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees. "
Matthew 16:6, Matthew 16:11-12
29
Deny yourself
"And calling the crowd to him with his disciples, he said to them, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. "
Luke 9:23, Matthew 10:38, Mark 8:34
30
Do not despise little ones
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven. "
Matthew 18:10
31
Go to Christians who offend you
“If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. "
Matthew 18:15, Galatians 6:1
32
Forgive offenders
"Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times."
Matthew 18:21-22, Proverbs 19:11
33
Beware of covetousness
"And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
Luke 12:15
34
Honor marriage
"So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.”
Matthew 19:6, Matthew 19:9
35
Lead by being a servant
"It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
Matthew 20:26-28
36
Make the church a house of prayer for all nations
"And he was teaching them and saying to them, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.”
Mark 11:17
37
Pray in faith
"And Jesus answered them, “Truly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ it will happen. And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.”
Matthew 21:21-22, John 15:7
38
Bring in the poor
"He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”
Luke 14:12-14
39
Render unto Caesar
"Show me the coin for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. And Jesus said to them, “Whose likeness and inscription is this?” They said, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Therefore render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
Matthew 22:19-21
40
Love the Lord
"And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment"
Matthew 22:37-38
41
Love your neighbor
"And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. "
Matthew 22:39
42
Be born again
"Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’"
John 3:7
43
Await my return
"Therefore, stay awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But know this, that if the master of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect. "
Matthew 24:42-44
44
Celebrate the Lord’s supper
"Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, "
Matthew 26:26-27
45
Watch and pray
"Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Matthew 26:41
46
Keep my commandments
"If you love me, you will keep my commandments. "
John 14:15
47
Feed my sheep
"When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.”
John 21:15-16
48
Make and baptize disciples
"Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, "
Matthew 28:19
49
Teach disciples to obey
"teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:20
50
Receive God’s power
"And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.”
Many years ago at night, it was out on an open deck at this Castle Mittersill that I asked God in prayer to serve Him. Whatever I was supposed to do to fulfill a purpose He intends and not of my own wishes. Even while I get in the way at times.
Today, before my work out and cardio, I read through Exodus 28. About how Aaron and his sons were made ready and adorned for the life of service in the holiest of places.
“For Aaron’s sons, you shall make coats and sashes and caps. You shall make them for glory and beauty. And you shall put them on Aaron your brother, and on his sons with him, and shall anoint them and ordain them and consecrate them, that they may serve me as priests. You shall make for them linen undergarments to cover their naked flesh. They shall reach from the hips to the thighs; and they shall be on Aaron and on his sons when they go into the tent of meeting or when they come near the altar to minister in the Holy Place, lest they bear guilt and die. This shall be a statute forever for him and for his offspring after him.“
GREAT prayer time today. About coming back to basics and a softening of the heart. So, I’ve reordered a TMS (Topical Memory System) again to start fresh. You might want to consider the same.
“The steadfast of mind You will keep in perfect peace, because he trusts in You.”
Isaiah 26:3
Having memorized these over and over some while ago, they brought such life and renewal. And clarity and promise. So for today, I’m reciting some of them off from memory and I’m so pleased and grateful they came back to mind.
I very much miss them, so I’m getting back to it just to review and build upon what’s there. This Spirit is going to grow within because something is stirring inside much like my passion for wilderness and music, only much more and this is everlasting. Day by day heaven nears and even if this is just a single day at a time, that is enough because thereispeace.
Topical Memory System
LIVE THE NEW LIFE
PROCLAIM CHRIST
RELY ON GOD’S RESOURCES
BEING CHRIST’S DISCIPLE
GROW IN CHRIST
Christ the Center 2 Cor. 5:17; Gal. 2:20
All Have Sinned Romans 3:23; Isaiah 53:6
His Spirit 1 Cor. 3:16; 1 Cor. 2:12
Put Christ First Matthew 6:33, Luke 9:23
Love John 13:34-35; 1 John 3:18
Obedience to Christ Romans 12:1; John 14:21
Sin’s Penalty Romans 6:23; Hebrews 9:27
His Strength Isaiah 41:10; Phil. 4:13
Separate From the World 1 John 2:15-16; Romans 12:2
