The race was on. My two brothers, Tom and Mike, plummeted down the river ahead of me, splashing and yelling their way to the best fishing spot. I was last out of the car. By the time I got to the river, after tripping over my sneakers several times, they were long gone.

After several vain attempts to bushwhack some unsuspecting brook trout, I threw down my fishing rod on the bank and stormed off. As I stumbled through the brush back to where Dad was, I was sure there wasn't one friendly trout in that whole stream.

Pop had moved about one hundred feet from the point at which he had entered the river. He was peacefully standing shin-deep in the stream with a half-lit cigarette smoking out the side of his mouth, his rod and line working the swirling fishing pools in a lazy, unhurried manner. I wandered up behind him, complaining under my breath.

"There's no fish in there," I muttered, looking down.

"Oh, really?" He smiled as he lifted the top of his fishing creel. One look in the basket brought a squeal out of me. It was almost full of brookies.

"Where did you get those?" I asked with wide eyes.

"Shhhh!" he said. "Look down at your feet. Now tell me, where would you live if you were a hungry fish?"

"Where the food is, of course."

"Look at that rock right there. See the way the water curls around it? If I were a fish, I would wait just on the other side of that rock for a fat worm to float by. Why don't you try it?"

"Okay, but I already tried there, and there's no fish!"

You know the end of the story. The worm didn't have a chance. The hungry trout gulped him down and I pulled in my first fish of the trip, along with a lesson I'll never forget.

This was also my first lesson in discipling, angler style. Times like this fishing trip taught me that discipleship means relationship. There's no better way to learn to catch crafty brookies than by standing next to someone who has already outsmarted them. Of course, discipling isn't a process of outsmarting and catching people. But it is the process of getting close enough to people to share your life by example. Sharing by example became part of me early in life, and this life-to-life discipling process carried into my days as a student-discipler at college.

Life-to-Life Discipling

What started out in November 1980 as a dinner conversation about the dangers of hell, slowly and sometimes painfully matured into a committed lifetime friendship between Don and me—with Jesus in the middle.

We began to meet formally as well as informally. We spent a great deal of time together, winning a dorm basketball championship, talking late at night, complaining about the cafeteria food, and just clowning around. We tried to lead people to Jesus, we talked about our mutual struggles with sexual purity, and we often expressed our brotherly affection for one another. We eventually moved to another city together to start a new ministry. I have few friends who know me the way Don does.

Since those school days, Don moved to another city, met and married Abagail, and pursued a career in teaching. I don't see them as often as I'd like, but our lives are inextricably woven together with transparency, commitment, and honesty.

Over the last fifteen years of discipling others, certain things have become very apparent to me: People change because they want to change; they don't usually need more knowledge; and the barrier to someone becoming more like Christ is much more emotional and spiritual than it is intellectual. Therefore, discipleship is a process that needs to be deeply contextualized by relationship rather than by the passing on of facts. Discipleship is not something we can do to someone as much as it is something we can be with that person. This distinction affects how I view my role as a discipler.

The old cliché that something is "caught rather than taught" is still true. People are encouraged to grow by both the context of what is said as well as the content of what we teach. It's hard to find the balance, but it is wonderfully illustrated by the Apostle Paul's life.

Paul, the Missionary Mentor

Paul's balanced approach to discipling is clearly illustrated in 1 Thessalonians 2. Paul showed his love for the Thessalonians not only by the truth he taught them, but by the depth and purity of his friendship.

In verses 3-5, Paul affirms his motives for befriending the Thessalonians. He wanted to please God, not people. He was being who God wanted him to be, and doing what God wanted him to do.

Within that context, Paul could give not only the truth of the gospel but his whole life because of his love for them (vv. 7-8). He fathered and mothered them—caring, exhorting, encouraging, and imploring each one. From a biblical perspective, truth delivered within a loving relationship is always the best balance.

A Matter of Trust

Why is it so important for discipleship to be more than imparting knowledge or defining principles? Here are two answers I've discovered as I've worked with people.

People Need Congruence. In Nonverbal Communication 101, I learned that when a person gives two messages, a verbal and a nonverbal, the nonverbal is usually the true one. For instance, if I grimace when I say "I love you," you would probably question the sincerity of my words. When this double message happens in the discipling process, the disciple doesn't trust the process or the discipler.

This doesn't mean that the discipler has to be perfect or hide any struggles he or she may be going through. In fact, the more we reveal of ourselves, the more we demonstrate integrity and have a greater impact in the lives of others.

That's why it's essential that people see our failures. If they don't, they'll suspect something is wrong, either with us or with them. They know how full of failure their own lives are, so if they don't see all sides of us, they either believe we have a magic formula that they need to find, or they intuitively know we aren't as perfect as we appear.

When people see us fail and still grow, they are freed to do the same. It unlocks their emotional chains of fear and pride and propels them forward to new arenas of life.

When I met Paul Drake, he was an ex-Marine who was as hard driving as his alma mater. He seemed to communicate by his words and life that success as a Christian meant being just as disciplined and hard hitting as the Marines. This was a no-holds-barred type of faith without a lot of compassion. Frankly, it wasn't very appealing to me, but God was about to intervene.

During the next year, God used some wrenching medical problems in his dear wife, Georgia, to soften his tempered-steel heart. Georgia's pain was the hammer God used in Paul's life. Today, he is one of the most compassionate, godly men I know. By watching this process of failure and change in his life, I was convinced that I could change, too.

As disciplers, we need to consciously give those we disciple an inside look, both at our successes and our failures. This integrity and congruence provide a tremendous platform for change in their lives.

Giving and Receiving. Another aspect of discipling that goes hand in hand with an inside look is allowing the disciple to give. This means that the discipler is willing to be taught by the disciple.

As "receptive disciplers," we are called to be vulnerable and needy, while remaining, in some ways, authority figures. Unlike the traditional instructor, who tends to be aloof and uninvolved, we let the disciples know we're "in process" just like them. We must swallow a "humility pill" when we admit we don't know it all and can learn great spiritual and practical lessons from our students. But both student and teacher grow when the student is allowed to give.

Helping Brian in his spiritual life encouraged me just because of who he was. But the day I decided to let him teach me about his passion, falconry, was a turning point in our relationship. Brian is a master falconer, and the process of becoming a falconer myself gave us a lot of time together. We spent hours out in the fields working with birds and learning the nuances of leather harnesses. This was time that Brian gave to me, and it allowed him to feel greater freedom and depth to share other areas of his life as well as offer input in the weak areas of my life.

Creating a Context for Change

In addition to transparency and teachability, a discipler has to create a context in which people want to change. This context is love. Sometimes people simply need help in figuring things out. Or they need encouragement to take risks.

When I first met Greg, he was a tall, rather clumsy new believer whom I had begun to encourage in his faith. He was also vulnerable to being embarrassed. One day the inevitable happened during a soccer game with some other Christians. Greg was humiliated and hurt because of his clumsiness in the midst of some robust action.

As Greg and I peeled rubber away from the soccer field in his red Camaro, Greg cursing like the proverbial sailor, all the Christian soccer players stared after us in disbelief. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to be sitting in this car either. Thankfully, we came to a dusty stop at an A & W root beer stand. We started yelling at each other, and eventually we cried. I had no idea how to help this guy, but I knew that I loved him. So that's what I told him. This was a turning point in our relationship. By knowing he was loved when he felt least lovable, Greg was freed to be more honest with me and to make additional changes in his life.

The Cost of Discipling

Life-to-life discipling is expensive. It means that the discipler has to be more committed to the painful process of change in his or her own life than to seeing change take place in others. It won't work to say "do as I say, not as I do." It means that we are involved with other people not to avoid our own need for change or to gain self-esteem, but because we love God.

It also means investing time and adjusting our lifestyles. That includes making time when they are available, especially if they have a demanding job. Three days a week I meet with businessmen as early as 6 a.m. The people at the Coco's restaurant down the street reserve a particular booth every Thursday morning. It's not my favorite time of the day to challenge traffic (California is notorious for its 6:30 a.m. urban rush), but it's the time that busy people are free. So that's the time we meet.

Finally, discipling life to life brings with it the possibility of disappointment.

My college roommate, whom I had led to the Lord, moved out of our room six weeks into the semester. He was fed up with the pressure of living with a 'Jesus freak' like me. His quick exit made it hard for me to live with myself for quite a while. There were nights of self-doubt and guilt, wondering if I had damaged him and contributed to his hard heart. His new friends openly disliked me and drew pagan symbols on the door of my dorm room.

My ex-roommate's rebellion eventually led him to return to drugs and leave school. Late one night, however, I was awakened by garbled yelling and pounding on my door, and we rushed him, in his drugged stupor, to an emergency room to get his stomach pumped.

It was encouraging to know that he trusted me enough to come for help. But I often grieved that he never followed the Lord after that.

Getting involved in people's lives rather than simply imparting information opens us up to real pain. When we love much and we grow with the people we are helping, it's even more painful if they choose to stop growing and changing.

Life-to-life discipling has given me great rewards over the years, and I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything. But it does involve a sacrifice of everything we are. Like the Apostle Paul, we need to be willing to give "not only the gospel of God but also our own lives."

We can give our lives to others only in the context of being in relationship with them. That's what I caught, along with brook trout, on my fishing trips with Pop—a concept of delivering truth in the context of relationships. If you can do that while getting some good fishing time on a cold stream, more power to you!

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth."
—The Apostle John

"You are our glory and joy."
—The Apostle Paul

A search for the word joy in the epistles of John and Paul reveals a surprising pattern. In nearly every reference, the apostles' joy _________________________ though Paul suffered greatly on these young believers' behalf, he counted the joy of seeing them grow well worth the cost (Phil. 2:17, Col. 1:24).

1. What aspect of these relationships brought joy?

2 Cor. 7:7, Phm. 1:7

2 Tim. 1:4, 2 Jn. 1:12

Ro. 16:19, 2 Jn. 1:4

1 Thess. 2:19-20

2. What rewards have you received from helping others grow? (If you haven't yet helped someone else grow, interview an older Christian and ask him or her how discipling has led to joy.)

3. Does anything else in your life match the joy of seeing someone you are helping learn more about Jesus and become more like Him?

© Copyright 2005 Smalley Relationship Center. Used by permission.

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