Knowing – Not Just Knowing About

I have been studying what it meant to be a disciple in Jesus’ time. A disciple was essentially an apprentice. He “moved in” with the Rabbi or teacher. His goal was to, one day, be as nearly like the rabbi as possible. He would seek to imitate the rabbi, not just to learn all that his master knew, but to be all that his master was.

We talk about knowing Christ and making Him known. I think too often we mean knowing “about” Him and not knowing Him. We can gain knowledge “about” a person by reading what they have done and said, and what others have said about them. We can amass facts and opinions. Our knowledge can become encyclopedic. We might still not know Him.

To “know” a person is to know what they are thinking, how they are feeling, what they need, what they want. It means having a high degree of comfort in their presence when they are at peace and when they are not. It means feeling their absence acutely, their hurts personally, their desires passionately. It means having their heart and mind. It means doing what they need done without being told. There seems only one way I can think of to really “know” a person and that is to spend time with him, a lot of time. You can’t do that devoting an hour a week.

You won’t do it with a minimal motivation. You have to want their presence with an ever-present passion.

I’m not sure I know of anyone who knows Christ like that. Our talk of being and making disciples seems fanciful in the absence of the kind of passion such discipleship entails. The disciples spent three years with Him and yet seemed clueless about his reason for being with them, his mission and most significantly, the sacrificial nature of his life. How can we expect to approach discipleship without His constant physical presence and a spiritual awareness surpassing that of Peter or James or even John?

The answer must be in the Comforter He promised. He brings spiritual presence, passion and power to physically bound men. He is able to move and guide and empower those whose knowledge of the savior will always be dim, miniscule and incomplete in this life and but a glorious promise in the next.

The discipleship He calls us to is impossible without the Comforter He promised. That should keep us dependent, reliant, hopeful, and maybe just a bit useful.