I like myself. I like myself a lot. And you like yourself too.

Let me illustrate this profound point: Let’s say you meet someone for the first time, and you begin some sort of ice-breaker conversation. In the midst of your friendly banter you discover that this new acquaintance shares similar music tastes. As a result, he climbs a little higher on the likable-continuum. And then you discover his political ideology is in line with yours. Consequently, his worth rises even higher in your humble estimation. This series of events continues on and on; you find yourself affirmed in nearly every aspect of your life. It turns out that this chance meeting may have resulted in you finding your new best friend.

When we find ourselves reflected in other people, we get filled with warm and fuzzy feelings. Yes, when others share in the glory of our perspectives and positions, we feel that much more solidified in the right-ness of our convictions. This is because we really, truly, whole-heartedly like ourselves and think we hold the best perspectives. Yes, despite all of our social-dysfunctions, and our overly-critical self-analysis–we still really like ourselves and the opinions we possess.

Now the only thing in the world that we enjoy more than possessing our opinions, is the act of professing them. I mean, how many times have you told someone about a movie you love, that they HAVE to go see? When they come back and have loved it as well, the sense of satisfaction is absolutely palpable. But when they come back at odds with your opinion, it feels like a personal affront.

This is called influence. Influence can be used to expose people to our perspectives and positions. Influence can also be used as an agent of change.

Jesus asks us to employ this influence, this agent of change. In fact, He demands it when He says that we are to “Go and make disciples.” There’s no doubt that plenty of individuals and churches today are influencing culture–just look at church attendance, and book sales–but to what end? For all of that influence, are churches and individuals employing it for the task Jesus called us to? Are we doing a good job “making disciples?”

Well it depends on how you define a disciple.

Today, the word disciple seems synonymous with regular-attender; convert is another word for baptized; mature believer is just another way of saying that you frequent a small-groups ministry. Are these conditions unrelated? Well, maybe not outright. But one’s attendance to an event does not necessitate an assumption about matters of the heart.

However, that does seem to be the practical rule by which we judge if people are disciples or not. And it makes the process of being a disciple much more accessible, albeit much less life-changing. See, if we link participation in programs to spiritual depth then we dumb down the process of being a disciple to a series of habits we invented. All you need is a few hours open during the week, and you have become just as saturated in spirituality as the next guy. You are a disciple because you do what other church-goers do.

Evangelism is also affected by this perspective. It becomes an exercise in trying to get other people to do what church-goers do. The first goal is, clearly, to get people through the doors of your local church building. Then it is to get them in the spa your church installed within the sanctuary. Then it is to get them in someone’s living room once a week. Mission accomplished–another clone cut from the melting ice-block that is contemporary Christianity. You have effectively exercised your influence to create another disciple. But a disciple of whom?

Now there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that most leaders and pastors do not set out from the beginning to perpetuate this system of discipleship. Certainly, they do not. Church services and small groups are all built to fuel a spiritual fervor found in the authentic hearts of believers. They are meant to be springboards for a lifestyle lived 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But do they accomplish that?

I find the answer to be a resounding “no.” The systems that were built to serve Jesus instead become places where Jesus serves only as content. Instead of seeing these structures as ways to accomplish Jesus’ mission for the church, they are seen as the mission-already-accomplished. And inevitably, as things grow, the results pastors look for move away from the results Jesus looks for–successful programs, and excited people, instead of people conformed to His example, and changed communities.

We use our influence to create disciples that do the things we do. And when we see people do the things we do, we feel good; we feel accomplished. Remember why? Yes, of course you do–it’s because we really, truly, whole-heartedly like ourselves.

What is it worth though, if we simply convert people to our culture, and never to our savior? What kind of reward is that worth in heaven if we baptize 100,000 people into our church? I promise you–we all high-five each other, and sing ’til we’re blue in the face the day 100,000 people get wet in our baptistry. But if it accompanies no change of heart, doesn’t it end right there in that backwards dip and self-satisfied celebration?

Let me be clear–if our discipleship produces anything outside of believers who resemble Jesus and are changing our communities, then we have not participated in successful discipleship.

So I ask–what is our church baptizing people into? What is our church membership class indoctrinating people with? What are our programs perpetuating? Are Christians today looking like disciples of Jesus or disciples of our programmed communities? Are we loud and proud about our theology, our strategy, and our effectiveness? Or are we boasting in Jesus and relinquishing our powers of influence to Him?

Sure, we can gather in meetings both large and small, and create mirrors of who are. We can surround ourselves with others that affirm a similar lifestyle, and a similar interpretation/doctrine/perspective, and feel good about it. We can change what we believe about success. And then accomplish it with ease. We can create a system of spirituality, and exercise our influence to hold others to standards we author.

But that would not be making disciples of Jesus. Our benchmark ought not be us, it ought to be Jesus. And our influence ought not be used to create people who look like us, doing similar things we do, but it ought to be used to perpetuate the work of Christ, and lead people to do the things that He did.

I know you like yourself. I like myself too. I know you like your church structure. Yeah, me too. But it’s time we all took an ideological bullet to the head, die to ourselves, and live for Jesus. It’s time we become disciples of Him.