Discipline is a hot topic today… in Christian and non-Christian circles. Many authors write about the importance of discipline, and with great success. Jordan Peterson’s number 1 book, “12 Rules for Life” specifically addresses the importance of a disciplined life. For example, Peterson suggests making your bed first thing in the morning. Get your own basic life details in order before you begin to tackle the geo-economic-political problems of the world.
Such advice seems like common sense (rare these days), and it even has some biblical basis: If you’re faithful with little, you’ll be entrusted with much. If you can’t manage your own household, you aren’t fit to lead others. But, at best this is just self-reliant discipline, not discipline of the Spirit working in us; at worst it's just more out of the self-help category. We need a biblical framework for discipline.
We’re continuing to walk through Psalm 23 today, learning to Lead Like Jesus. When Jesus said, “I am the Good Shepherd” (John 10:11a CSB), everyone who heard his voice immediately began humming the tune and recalling lyrics of Psalm 23 from worship: “The Lord is my shepherd” (Psalm 23:1a CSB). This wasn’t a coincidence, and his audience wouldn’t have missed it. Jesus was making quite the declaration: “I am the Good Shepherd who provides, guides, comforts, & protects.”
Jon has taken us through the Psalm verse-by-verse… To review: To Lead Like Jesus is to “be led,” to “be satisfied,” to “have integrity,” to “stay the course”… and concluding in the next 2 weeks, to “be courageous” and to “be hopeful.” Today, we’re looking at Psalm 23 v. 4, “Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.” (NLT)… To Lead Like Jesus is to “Accept Discipline.” Jesus says, “I am the Good Shepherd who disciplines.”
I recognize that not everyone’s frame of reference for discipline is pleasant… Perhaps you associate discipline with physical abuse, emotional manipulation, or both… Past experiences can distort something good and true to blur our vision and prevent us from seeing the beauty of authentic discipline. So please hear me… (and this advice applies to every context of discipline: parents, teachers, pastors, or employers):
• Discipline is not about retribution, getting even, or payback.
• Discipline is not about shame.
• Discipline is not about inflicting pain.
• Discipline is not about breaking the will.
• Discipline is not about one person controlling another for gain or pleasure.
• Discipline is not about anger in the moment.
Those are distorted views of discipline that we see measured out in the world. I’m sorry if that’s been your experience. But that’s not the biblical discipline that brings about spiritual transformation, which I am talking about today. I’m going to share 3 symbols that represent this type of spiritually transformative discipline. As I cover this material, I encourage you to take notes either on paper or on your device. This will be helpful and highly practical.
The first is The Staff. [staff icon].
The shepherd’s staff prods, steers, pokes, corrects… It functions as an instrument of discipline by guiding the sheep through dark valleys when they need that guidance most. It’s in those dark valleys that sheep can easily stray, lose their way and get off the path, or even begin to doubt the shepherd’s loving presence.
You know what the dark valleys are:
• A major car accident
• The doctor says the word—that word—“cancer”
• "I don’t want to be married to you any more."
• "You’re fired!"
• The betrayal of a close friend
• The rent or mortgage is past due... again
• Total loss in a housefire… or flood
• An investment gone terribly wrong
• A miscarriage
• A friend takes his own life
These are the dark valleys… the valleys of shadow and death… I’m convinced we’re all either coming out of a valley, in the darkness now, or about to pass through one. And if you think you’ll somehow slide by, I say this to you with all the tenderness I can muster: Brace yourself. It’s a feature, not a bug of the fallen human experience. You could say, it’s a fact of life.
The good news is the Good Shepherd is at work in our dark valleys:
1. for our general good. The dark valleys of our lives are not caused by a capricious God. We know that God is in his very nature love. Indeed, Romans 8:28 assures us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him” (Romans 8:28 NIV).
2. for his glory. The dark valleys are not karma—a quid pro quo for our sin. Of course, our sin does have real-world consequences, direct and indirect, and even generational. In John 9 Jesus and his disciples come upon a man born blind, and his disciples ask him: “Who sinned, this man or his parents?” (John 9:2a CSB). Jesus tells them that neither was the case, but so that God would be glorified in the man’s life.
3. for our spiritual transformation. The Shepherd teaches us to trust him in the dark valleys with the use of the staff. Isn’t it interesting that the Shepherd doesn’t whip out a flashlight, shout “let’s get out of here quick,” as a flight response. No, the shepherd’s staff guides and protects the sheep through the dark valley. The shepherd is disciplining the sheep, re-conditioning their response from fear into that of trust.
David, the shepherd-king, author of Psalm 23, had some first-hand experience. Recall his sinful sexual encounter with Bathsheba, his plot to murder her husband Uriah in the hopes of covering up the scandal, and eventually the death of the baby. You can read that story in 1 Samuel 11-12, and I recommend you do. It’s just two chapters, and it’s a salty tale. Spoiler: David is just terrible. But when confronted about his sin by the Prophet Nathan, David came clean and sang the song we know as Psalm 51. Listen to his cry for help in these excerpts:
(Psalm 51 NLT)
Have mercy on me, O God, because of your unfailing love.
Because of your great compassion, blot out the stain of my sins.
Wash me clean from my guilt. Purify me from my sin.
For I recognize my rebellion; it haunts me day and night.
Against you, and you alone, have I sinned;
I have done what is evil in your sight.
Purify me from my sins, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
Oh, give me back my joy again; you have broken me—now let me rejoice.
Don’t keep looking at my sins. Remove the stain of my guilt.
Create in me a clean heart, O God. Renew a loyal spirit within me.
Do not banish me from your presence,
and don’t take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.
Unseal my lips, O Lord, that my mouth may praise you.
That can be your prayer when you pass through the dark valley. It should be all of ours. David experienced one of the darkest moments in his life—and that’s saying something—and it was the shepherd’s staff of discipline that guided him through the valley, that led to the spiritual transformation he needed.
I hesitate to share this next story, and I do so only with the greatest care and caution that we dare not attempt to over-interpret every situation, reading into things more into it than we ought. I refer back to the 3 points I made earlier: that God is working in our dark valleys for our general good, to bring himself glory, and for our spiritual transformation.
All that said… I knew an elder in a previous church we served that was just a jerk; he was a hard-hearted, immature, uncompassionate man. He and his wife were pregnant with their 2nd child when we met, and a short time later she delivered their baby boy. He was born with severe medical issues that threatened his life. The elder and his wife were brought low, as you can imagine, walking through a valley of the darkest kind. I’m glad to say the boy survived as a result of the medical treatment and care he received and the divine answer to many prayers, and he’s a healthy young man today. To God be the glory! What was interesting over the course of that whole episode was the drastic change in that elder’s demeanor; he was an observably much kinder, more compassionate human being. Another pastor on our staff commented that the Lord had used the incident of their sick child to soften his heart. He had come under the discipline of the Good Shepherd going through the dark valley.
Friends, sometimes it takes something like that to open our eyes. We all visit the dark valleys of life. The question is, will we accept the discipline of the staff to guide us through?
Jesus also disciplines with The Yoke. [egg yolk icon]. No, not that kind of yolk… this kind: [oxen yoke icon]. Sorry, I can’t resist a good dad yoke. Ok, I’ll stop.
The image of the oxen yoke serves as a metaphor throughout all of Scripture. A yoke is an agricultural implement placed on two beasts of burden, around their necks, intended to keep them working at the same pace and in the same direction, sharing the burden of the weight while also harnessing their combined strength and power for the work.
The Law of Moses was a Yoke for the newly formed nation of Israel that tied them together in covenant-relationship with God. Over time, the Pharisees piled additional burdens upon the Jewish people that made following the Law needlessly oppressive—made the yoke heavier. The Pharisees themselves did nothing to alleviate the added burdens—heavy-plus. And they didn’t submit themselves to those same burdens—max-heavy. Enter Jesus…
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened (the yoke of the Pharisees), and I will give you rest. Take up my yoke and learn from me, because I am lowly and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke (the yoke of Jesus) is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30 CSB)
Following Jesus is light because it’s freedom from oppression. But Easy? Tell that to John the Baptist who literally lost his head for following Jesus. Tell that to the Christians that Matthew wrote his gospel to living under the harsh rule of Roman persecution. Or tell that to the Apostles, all but one of whom were martyred because they pledged allegiance to Jesus.
This is one of those texts where the word just loses something in translation. There is no great translation of the word, and nearly every translation goes with “easy.” It’s all a bit relative: “Easy” as compared to what? “Easier” makes better sense. Easier than the yoke of the Pharisees.
Yet the yoke of Jesus is an invitation to obedience, commitment, hardship, high cost… there is no "Easy Button" to following Jesus. Discipline is indeed hard. So I think an even better translation is “possible.” We are yoked together with Jesus; what was impossible before—bearing an oppressive weight all alone—is now possible because Jesus carries the weight yoked alongside with us. He is our yokemate.
This is what the discipline of the yoke of Jesus looked like for Paul:
• I discipline my body and bring it under strict control, so that after preaching to others, I myself will not be disqualified. (1 Corinthians 9:27 CSB). Paul submitted himself to physical discipline in order to remain above criticism.
• A thorn in the flesh was given to me… I pleaded with the Lord three times that it would leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may reside in me. So I take pleasure in weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and in difficulties, for the sake of Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7b-10 CSB). Paul submitted to suffering in order to learn reliance upon Christ.
• I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20 CSB). Paul submitted to discipline in order to identify with Christ in his suffering.
• My goal is to know [Christ] and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death. (Philippians 3:10 CSB). Paul submitted to discipline even to the point of dying.
… and we could go on…
Jesus invites us to come under his yoke. The Message dynamic translation of the Matthew 11 passage conveys the personal nature of his invitation: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.” (11:28–30 MSG).
These rhythms are usually referred to as Spiritual Disciplines… You’ve no doubt heard of spiritual disciplines... praying, fasting, memorizing Scripture, worship, and others. We practice these disciplines as Christians because we strive to learn from Jesus by doing what Jesus did.
We sometimes approach discipleship as a matter of stuffing more and more information into our brains. Faith is certainly about learning information, the right information, absolutely. And there’s lots of good information. But faith—allegiance to Jesus—is not only or even primarily about storing up information.
It’s been said that Jesus didn’t say, “Here is the truth, believe it.” He said, “I am the truth, follow me.” The invitation is participation. Let me say that again: Jesus didn’t say, “Here is the truth, believe me.” He said, “I am the truth, follow me.” The invitation of Jesus is participation in Jesus. We aren’t just brains on a stick. We are whole beings and training our minds, as Scripture tells us, is not just the intellect. It’s the will, our hearts, our actions, and our virtues. And that requires practice.
Doing anything of value requires practice. A football team trains to prepare for the big game. An orchestra rehearses to prepare for the concert. Anything you want to do, if it’s worth doing at all, takes practice. Your spiritual life and faith is no different.
Why? Because the time will come when you find yourself in a dark valley. In that moment you will undoubtedly do your best impression of David’s Psalm 51 or maybe, if you’re a country music fan, Carrie Underwood’s “Jesus take the wheel.” You can also rest in, and rely upon, the disciplines you’ve practiced all the while... Like the football player, you’re ready for the big game. Your disciplined life of prayer, fasting, memorizing Scripture, and worship will guide and comfort you in those times as you allow Jesus to help carry the burden. Some of you know this very well.
A preacher and dear friend of mine developed a very rare and deadly form of throat cancer a few years ago. It was devastating news for my friend, and for his family and church. They began a long process of treatment and surgeries and prayer. At the earliest opportunity he had to speak to his church, he told them he was choosing worship over worry, and invited them to do the same. Soon the church had tee-shirts, and people began to share their own stories online, and the message spread: worship over worry. He knew that worrying wasn’t going to change a thing, but resting in the discipline of worship would make all the difference in the world for him and those closest to him. Thankfully, he’s preaching and going as strong as ever, he’s recovered from the cancer and surgeries, and is all clear today, praise God! But even if the outcome had been different, he had accepted the discipline of the yoke, and when the dark valley came, he knew that Jesus was there to carry the weight with him.
What I’m saying is: Discipline now prepares you for the dark valleys yet to come. I’m not a farmer or an animal expert, but in spiritual terms this is true: Accepting the yoke prepares you to accept the staff.
Jesus cried out in his darkest valley on the night of his betrayal in the Garden: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:39b CSB). His disciplined life prepared him for the dark valley of his sufferings.
Lastly, discipline isn’t just for navigating tough times and dark valleys. It’s also about spiritual transformation… Walking in the Spirit. Christlikeness. What this really comes down to is a process of partnering with the Holy Spirit in being transformed into the image of Christ. The third symbol of discipline is The Rabbi.
In the ancient Jewish tradition, disciples of a rabbi literally sat at his feet. And they walked so closely behind him that it’s said that the dust from the rabbi’s robes covered his followers as they walked. You can imagine the dirt that was kicked up walking along the roads in those days. There’s a rabbinic blessing along these lines: “May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.” There is a tour in the Holy Land that takes you along the footsteps of Jesus’s earthly ministry, and as memento of the tour each person is given a small glass jar filled with sand from the shore of the Sea of Galilee, the very sand Jesus walked upon 2,000 years ago… Amazing to think about.
Members of our worship team are handing out little jars of sand this morning. This isn’t sand from Galilee. It’s sand from a holy land much closer, Menards. If you take one, let the sand serve as a reminder, perhaps a challenge, to you each time you see it. May you follow so closely to Jesus that you would be covered in the dust from his robe. Keep it somewhere that you’ll see it frequently: on your dresser, workbench, desk, or dashboard to serve as a reminder to accept the Rabbi’s discipline in your life.
Like lawyers who practice the law and medical doctors who practice medicine, we are practitioners in the Way of Jesus, putting what we learn from him into practice. Why do we do we pray, fast, memorize Scripture and worship? Because Jesus did; and though there may be other reasons as well, if that’s the only reason, it’s enough.
In the words of John the Baptist, “[Christ] must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30 CSB). More and more and more of Jesus is much better for me than more and more of me. Following closely to Jesus means we open ourselves up, we accept the discipline of our Rabbi to be like him, conformed to his image. Are you willing?
And after all, the watching world needs to see Jesus in you. It’s not enough for them to hear you talk about Jesus, they need to see him in you. Your life transformed into Christ’s image is the invitation of Jesus: “Come to me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 CSB).
The Chi Rho Cross is an overlay of the Greek letters chi (χ) and rho (ρ), the first 2 letters of the Greek spelling for the name of Christ. It is also a beautiful symbol of the shepherd’s staff overlaid with the nails of the crucifixion. The Chi Rho Cross points us to Jesus, who is both Shepherd and Savior.
Friends, when we gather at the Table to remember Jesus, we are identifying with him in his suffering, accepting his discipline. As our Lord has told us: “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of me will save it (Luke 9:23b-24 CSB). The cruciform life—a life lived in the shape of the Cross—is a life submitted to the discipline of his Cross.
We celebrate the meal today,
eating the bread, his body given for us…
and drinking the Cup, his blood poured out for our forgiveness.
Let us pray…
Good Shepherd, we thank you for the gift of this meal and the reminder to us of your love, sacrifice, and victory. You have led us through many dark valleys, guiding and protecting us with your shepherd’s staff. You have invited us to accept the discipline of your yoke, to do as you do. May we follow so closely that the dust from your robe covers us, making us indistinguishable from you. May our practices prepare us for the dark valleys through which we will walk, though never alone, guided by your staff. May you increase in our lives, and we decrease, so that your will is done in us and not our own, for the sake of the world. We pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.