Robert E. Coleman
Jesus built a movement by investing deeply in a few — a discipleship strategy that multiplies across generations.
Jesus had three years to change the world — and He spent most of them with just twelve people. Coleman exposes the strategy behind that choice: discipleship that multiplies beats broadcasting every time, because each generation reproduces.
Everything Coleman wants you to walk away with
Instead of addressing massive crowds exclusively, Jesus invested deeply in a small group who would multiply. This was not a failure of strategy — it was the strategy. He chose depth over reach, and it changed history.
The math is stunning. If one person makes one disciple per year and each disciple does the same, the entire world is reached in a generation. Broadcasting reaches millions but reproduces nothing. Multiplication requires investment.
Proximity and shared life transmit what lectures never can. Discipleship happens in the dailiness of ordinary existence — walking, eating, resting, responding to interruptions. Jesus didn't just tell them how to live; he showed them.
Movements are built person by person, not announcement by announcement. Jesus invested his best hours in the people who would carry the mission after he left. He was strategic about who received his deepest investment.
Reproduction is the goal. The mission multiplies only when every follower becomes a leader who makes more followers. A disciple who doesn't reproduce has received but not completed the process.
He didn't just teach and release. He taught, demonstrated, supervised practice, gave feedback, and then entrusted the mission. Each stage built confidence and competence for the next level of responsibility.
He was patient with their failures but never lowered the standard. He expected them to do what he said, not just admire what he did. Obedience was the proof of genuine discipleship, not an optional add-on.
You don't need a seminary degree, a platform, or a budget. You need willingness to invest deeply in a few people, share your life with them, and help them do the same for others. This slim book has influenced more missionaries than almost any other.
Coleman's critique is gentle but devastating. The church pours energy into Sunday services while neglecting the relational depth that actually produces mature believers. Programs don't make disciples; people do.
Addition is the strategy of broadcasting. Multiplication is the strategy of Jesus. Every Christian who takes this seriously becomes a movement. Every one who doesn't becomes a dead end.
These notes are inspired by direct excerpts and woven together into a readable guide you can follow from start to finish.
By Robert E. Coleman
How do you go forward with an evangelism that is continuous, contagious, and compelling—a widening of the circle of faith so that it includes more and more people who have transformingly trusted Christ as Savior? The church proclaims the changed world as the consequence of changed men. Yet if you do not make the journey from theories and ideals to concrete situations, then the concrete situations will be lost under a smog of words.
This book concentrates on the pattern seen in our Lord and his disciples, saturated with Scripture. Its style is unembellished, plain, and direct—echoing a mind that has thought long on the theme with which it is at grips.
I am the way. — John 14:6
Merely because you are busy, or even skilled, at doing something does not necessarily mean you are getting anything accomplished. The question must always be asked: Is it worth doing? And does it get the job done? That the church is busy trying to work one program of evangelism after another cannot be denied. But is it accomplishing its objective?
You must know how a course of action fits into the overall plan God has for your life if it is to thrill your soul with a sense of destiny. Just as a building is constructed according to a plan for its use, so everything you do must have a purpose. Otherwise your activity can be lost in aimlessness and confusion.
The Gospels were written primarily to show us Christ, the Son of God, and that by faith we can have life in his name (John 20:31). But what we sometimes fail to realize is that the revelation of that life in Christ includes the way he lived and taught others to live. The witnesses who wrote the books not only saw the truth; they were changed by it. The plan of this study, then, is to trace the steps of Christ as portrayed in the Gospels.
There was nothing haphazard about Jesus’ life—no wasted energy, not an idle word. He had his sights on the day his Kingdom would come in glory and in power. Yet when his plan is reflected on, the basic philosophy is so different from that of the modern church.
He chose from them twelve. — Luke 6:13
It all started by Jesus calling a few men to follow him. Remarkably, Jesus started to gather these men before he ever organized an evangelistic campaign or even preached a sermon in public. John and Andrew were the first to be invited as Jesus left the scene of the great revival of the Baptist at Bethany beyond the Jordan (John 1:35–40). Andrew in turn brought his brother Peter (John 1:41–42). The next day Jesus found Philip on his way to Galilee, and Philip found Nathanael (John 1:43–51). There is no evidence of haste in the selection of these disciples, just determination. James, the brother of John, is not mentioned as one of the group until the four fishermen are recalled several months later by the Sea of Galilee (Mark 1:19). Shortly afterward Matthew is called to follow the Master as Jesus passed through Capernaum (Mark 2:13–14). The particulars surrounding the call of the other disciples are not recorded in the Gospels, but it is believed that they all occurred in the first year of the Lord’s ministry.
What is more revealing about these men is that at first they do not impress us as being key men. None of them occupied prominent places in the synagogue, nor did any of them belong to the Levitical priesthood. For the most part they were common laboring men, probably having no professional training beyond the rudiments of knowledge necessary for their vocation. Perhaps a few came from families of some considerable means, such as the sons of Zebedee, but none could have been considered wealthy. They had no academic degrees in the arts and philosophies of their day. Most were raised in the poor section of the country around Galilee. Apparently the only one of the Twelve who came from the more refined region of Judea was Judas Iscariot. By any standard of sophisticated culture then and now they would surely be considered a rather ragged collection of souls. They were impulsive, temperamental, easily offended, and had all the prejudices of their environment. In short, these men selected by the Lord represented an average cross section of society in their day—not the kind of group one would expect to win the world for Christ.
They were indeed “unlearned and ignorant” according to the world’s standard (Acts 4:13), but they were teachable. Though often mistaken in their judgments and slow to comprehend spiritual things, they were honest men, willing to confess their need. Such men, pliable in the hands of the Master, could be molded into a new image—Jesus can use anyone who wants to be used.
As the company of followers around Jesus increased, it became necessary by the middle of his second year of ministry to narrow the select company to a more manageable number. Accordingly Jesus “called his disciples, and he chose from them twelve, whom also he named apostles” (Luke 6:13–17; see Mark 3:13–19). This does not mean that his decision excluded others from following him. Many more were numbered among his associates, and some became very effective workers in the church—the seventy (Luke 10:1), Mark the Gospel writer, and James his own brother (1 Corinthians 15:7), among others. Nevertheless, there was a rapidly diminishing priority given to those outside the Twelve.
Within the select apostolic group, Peter, James, and John seemed to enjoy a more special relationship to the Master than did the other nine. Only these privileged few were invited into the sick room of Jairus’s daughter (Mark 5:37; Luke 8:51); they alone went up with the Master and beheld his glory on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mark 9:2; Matthew 17:1; Luke 9:28). Other things being equal, the more concentrated the size of the group being taught, the greater the opportunity for effective instruction.
None of this meant Jesus shirked mass evangelism. Sometimes the whole day would be spent ministering to the needs of the multitudes, even to the extent that he had “no leisure so much as to eat” (Mark 6:31). He loved the masses, wept over them, and finally died to save them from their sin. But he repeatedly took special pains to allay the superficial popular support of the multitudes occasioned by his extraordinary power (e.g., John 2:23–3:3; 6:26–27). Frequently he would ask those who received his healing to say nothing about it. Likewise, after the transfiguration, “He charged them that they should tell no man what things they had seen” until after his resurrection (Mark 9:9).
Perhaps his total number of devoted followers at the end of his earthly ministry numbered little more than the five hundred brethren to whom Jesus appeared after the resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:6), and only about 120 tarried in Jerusalem to receive the baptism of the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:15). If at this point one were to measure the effectiveness of his evangelism by the number of his converts, Jesus doubtless would not be considered among the most productive mass evangelists of the church.
The spiritually blind leaders of Israel, though comparatively few in number, completely dominated the affairs of the people. Unless Jesus’ converts were given competent people of God to lead them and protect them in the truth, they would soon fall into confusion and despair, and the last state would be worse than the first. Before the world could ever be permanently helped, people would have to be raised up who could lead the multitudes in the things of God.
Most evangelistic efforts of the church begin with the multitudes under the assumption that the church is qualified to preserve what good is done. The result is a spectacular emphasis on numbers of converts, candidates for baptism, and more members, with little genuine concern for the establishment of these souls in the love and power of God, let alone the preservation and continuation of the work. If the pattern of Jesus means anything at all, it teaches that the first duty of church leadership is to see to it that a foundation is laid in the beginning on which can be built an effective and continuing evangelistic ministry to the multitudes.
In an age when facilities for rapid communication of the gospel are available to the church as never before, there are actually more unevangelized people on the earth today than before the invention of the horseless carriage. It will be slow, tedious, painful, and probably unnoticed by people at first, but the end result will be glorious, even if we don’t live to see it.
Lo, I am with you always. — Matthew 28:20
Having called his men, Jesus made a practice of being with them. This was the essence of his training program—just letting his disciples follow him. Jesus had no formal school, no seminaries, no outlined course of study, no periodic membership classes. None of these highly organized procedures considered so necessary today entered into his ministry.
This simple methodology was revealed from the beginning by the invitations Jesus gave. John and Andrew were invited to “come and see” the place where Jesus stayed (John 1:39). Nothing more was said. Yet what more needed to be said? At home with Jesus they could talk things over and there in private see intimately into his nature and work. Philip was addressed in the same essential manner: “Follow me” (John 1:43). Evidently impressed, Philip invited Nathanael also to “come and see” the Master (John 1:46). Later when James, John, Peter, and Andrew were found mending their nets, Jesus used the same familiar words, “Come ye after me,” only this time adding the reason: “and I will make you fishers of men” (Mark 1:17). Likewise, Matthew was called from the tax collector’s booth with the same invitation: “Follow me” (Mark 2:14).
One living sermon is worth a hundred explanations.
They walked together along the lonely roads; they visited together in the crowded cities; they sailed and fished together on the Sea of Galilee; they prayed together in the deserts and in the mountains; and they worshiped together in the synagogues and in the Temple. Every one of the ten post-resurrection appearances of Christ was to his followers, particularly the chosen apostles. So far as the Bible shows, not one unbelieving person was permitted to see the glorified Lord. There was no need to excite the multitudes with this spectacular revelation.
If Jesus, the Son of God, found it necessary to stay almost constantly with his few disciples for three years, and even one of them was lost, how can a church expect to do this job on an assembly-line basis a few days out of the year?
Take my yoke upon you. — Matthew 11:29
Jesus expected the men he was with to obey him. They were not required to be smart, but they had to be loyal. This became the distinguishing mark by which they were known.
It soon became apparent that being a disciple of Christ involved far more than a joyful acceptance of the Messianic promise: it meant the surrender of one’s whole life to the Master in absolute submission to his sovereignty. There could be no compromise. “No servant can serve two masters” (Luke 16:13). There had to be a complete forsaking of sin. The old thought patterns, habits, and pleasures of the world had to be conformed to the new disciplines of the kingdom of God (Matthew 5:1–7:29). Perfection of love was now the only standard of conduct (Matthew 5:48), and this love was to manifest itself in obedience to Christ (John 14:21, 23) expressed in devotion to those whom he died to save (Matthew 25:31–36). There was a cross in it—the willing denial of self for others.
Many liked to be numbered among his followers when he filled their stomachs with bread and fish, but when Jesus started talking about the true spiritual quality of the Kingdom and the sacrifice necessary in achieving it (John 6:25–29), many of his disciples “went back, and walked no more with him” (John 6:66). As they put it, “This is a hard saying: who can hear it?” (John 6:60). The surprising thing is that Jesus did not go running after them to try to get them to stay on his membership roll. “No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). Jesus did not have the time nor the desire to scatter himself on those who wanted to make their own terms of discipleship. “Therefore whosoever he be of you that renounceth not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:33).
From the time that he appeared at their business and asked them to follow him, “they left all, and followed him” (Luke 5:11; see Matthew 4:22; Mark 1:20).
Jesus did not urge his disciples to commit their lives to a doctrine, but to a person who was the doctrine. “If a man love me, he will keep my word; and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make our abode with him” (John 14:23). “If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love… This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I have told you” (John 15:10, 12).
You are engaged in warfare, the issues of which are life and death, and every day that you are indifferent to your responsibilities is a day lost to the cause of Christ. If you have learned even the most elemental truth of discipleship, you must know that you are called to be a servant of your Lord and to obey his Word. It is not your duty to reason why he speaks as he does, but only to carry out his orders.
Receive ye the Holy Spirit. — John 20:22
Jesus gave his disciples everything he had. He gave them his joy in which he labored amid sufferings and sorrows (John 15:11; 17:13). He gave them the keys to his Kingdom against which the powers of hell could never prevail (Matthew 16:19). He gave them his own glory, which was his before the worlds were made, that they all might be one even as he was one in the Father (John 17:22, 24). He gave all he had—nothing was withheld, not even his own life. Love is like that. It is always giving itself away. When it is self-contained, it is not love.
Though the demonstrations were often painfully hard to accept, as when he washed their feet (John 13:1–20), they could not miss what he meant. They saw how their Master denied himself many of the comforts and pleasures of the world and became a servant among them. They saw how the things they cherished—physical satisfaction, popular acclaim, prestige—he refused; while the things they sought to escape—poverty, humiliation, sorrow, and even death—he accepted willingly for their sake. As they watched him minister to the sick, comfort the sorrowing, and preach the gospel to the poor, it was clear that the Master considered no service too small nor any sacrifice too great when it was rendered for the glory of God.
His sanctification was not for the purpose of benefiting himself, but for his disciples, that they might “be sanctified in truth.” In giving himself to God, Jesus gave himself to those about him so that they might come to know through his life a similar commitment to the mission for which he had come into the world. His whole evangelistic plan hinged on this dedication, and in turn, the faithfulness with which his disciples gave themselves in love to the world about them.
This was to be the measure by which they were to regard their own service. They were to give as freely as they had received (Matthew 10:8). They were to love one another as he loved them (John 13:34–35). By this token they were to be his disciples (John 15:9–10). Love—Calvary love—was the standard. Just as they had seen for three years, the disciples were to give themselves in selfless devotion to those whom the Father loved and for whom their Master died (John 17:23). Such a demonstration of love through them was to be the way that the world would know that the gospel was true. How else would the multitudes ever be convinced? Love is the only way to win the free response of men, and this is possible only by the presence of Christ within the heart.
Jesus told his disciples about the Spirit as “another Comforter,” an Advocate, one who would stand by their side—a person who would take exactly the same place with them in the unseen realm of reality that Jesus had filled in the visible experience of the flesh (John 14:16). Just as he had ministered to them for three years, the Spirit would guide them into all truth (John 16:13), show them things to come (John 16:13), teach them what they needed to know (John 14:26), and help them pray (John 14:12–13; 16:23–24). In short, the Spirit would glorify the Son by taking the things of Christ and making them real to his followers (John 16:14–15).
“It is the Spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing” (John 6:63). That is why even to begin to live in Christ one has to be born again (John 3:3–9). The corrupted human nature must be regenerated by the Spirit of God before it could be conformed to its true created purpose in the divine image. Thus Jesus explained that the Spirit would prepare the way for their ministry: he would give them utterance to speak (Matthew 10:19–20), convict the world “in respect of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment” (John 16:8), and give illumination of truth (John 16:14). By his power the disciples were promised the very ability to do the works of their Lord (John 14:12). Evangelism was not a human undertaking, but a divine project that had been going on from the beginning. It was altogether the Spirit’s work. All the disciples were asked to do was to let the Spirit have complete charge of their lives.
The privileges that the disciples were to enjoy in this deeper relationship to the Spirit were greater than they had known as Jesus walked with them along the roads of Galilee. In his flesh, Jesus was confined to one body and one place, but in the Spirit these limitations were all removed. Now he could be with them always, and literally never leave them nor forsake them (Matthew 28:20; see John 14:16). It was better for Jesus, having finished his work, to return to the Father and send the blessed Comforter to come and take his place (John 16:7).
Evangelism had to become a burning compulsion within them, purifying their desires and guiding their thoughts. Nothing less than a personal baptism of the Holy Spirit would suffice. The superhuman work to which they were called demanded supernatural help—an enduement of power from on high. Through confession of their deep-seated pride and enmity, in utter surrender of themselves to Christ, they had to come by faith into a new and refining experience of the Spirit’s infilling. The fact that these men were of the common lot of mankind was no hindrance at all.
It is not who we are, but who he is that makes the difference. The Spirit of God always insists on making Christ known. Here is the great paradox of life—you must die to yourself to live in Christ, and in that renunciation of yourself, you must give yourself away in service and devotion to your Lord. This was Jesus’ method of evangelism, seen at first only by his few followers, but through them it was to become the power of God in overcoming the world.
I have given you an example. — John 13:15
Take, for example, Jesus’ prayer life. It was no accident that he often let his disciples see him conversing with the Father. They could see the strength that it gave to his life, and though they could not fully understand what it was all about, they must have realized this was part of his secret of life. Jesus did not force the lesson on them. He just kept praying until at last the disciples got so hungry that they asked him to teach them what he was doing.
He would take special pains to impress on his followers the meaning of Scripture, and he never ceased to use the Scriptures in his conversations with them. Altogether there are at least sixty-six references to the Old Testament in his dialogues with the disciples in the four Gospels, to say nothing of more than ninety allusions in his speaking with others. All this served to show the disciples how they too should know and use the Scriptures. The principles of Bible exhortation were practiced before them so repeatedly that they could not help but catch on to at least some of the rules for basic scriptural interpretation and application. Moreover, the ability of Jesus to recall so freely Old Testament passages must have impressed the disciples with the necessity of learning the Scriptures by heart, and letting them become the authority for their pronouncements.
Through this manner of personal demonstration, every aspect of Jesus’ personal discipline of life was bequeathed to his disciples—but what perhaps was most important was that all the while he was teaching them how to win souls. Practically everything that Jesus said and did had some relevance to their work of evangelism, either by explaining a spiritual truth or revealing how they should deal with people. He did not have to work up teaching situations, but merely took advantage of those about him, and thus his teaching seemed perfectly realistic. For the most part, the disciples were absorbing it without even knowing they were being trained to win people.
His method was to conceal the fact that he even had a method. He was his method. This may be hard to imagine in this day of professional techniques and sure-fire gimmicks. Yet the disciples never had any handbook or flip chart or soul-winning seminar. All they had was a teacher who practiced with them what he expected them to learn. Evangelism was lived before them in spirit and in technique. Watching him, they learned what it was all about. He led them to recognize the need in all classes of people and the best methods of approaching them. They observed how he drew people to himself, won their confidence, inspired their faith, opened to them the way of salvation, and called them to a decision. His method was so real and practical that it just came naturally.
People are looking for a demonstration, not an explanation. Those seeking to train people must be prepared to have them follow us, even as we follow Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1). We are the exhibit (Philippians 3:17). They will do those things that they hear and see in us (Philippians 4:9). Let them hear us apologize to those we have wronged. Our weaknesses need not impair discipleship when shining through them is a transparent sincerity to follow Christ.
Knowledge unapplied to living can become a stumbling stone to further truth. No one better understood this than the Master. He was training men to do a job, and when they knew enough to get started, he saw to it that they did something about it.
I will make you fishers of men. — Matthew 4:19
Jesus used his disciples in other ways to help along his work, such as caring for the manual burdens of getting food and arranging accommodations. He also let them baptize some people who were aroused by his message (John 4:2). Outside of this, however, it is rather startling to observe in the Gospels that these early disciples really did not do much more than watch Jesus work for a year or more. He kept the vision before them by his activity, and in his call to the four fishermen he reminded them they were to be fishers of men (Mark 1:17), but it does not seem that they did much about it. Even after they were formally ordained to the ministry a few months later (Mark 3:14–19; Luke 6:13–16), they still showed no evidence of doing any evangelistic work on their own. This observation should cause you to be more patient with new converts who follow you.
Before letting them go, Jesus gave them briefing instructions regarding their mission. He first reaffirmed his purpose for their lives: they were to go and “preach the kingdom of God, and to heal the sick” (Luke 9:1–2). Nothing was new in this commission, but it served to further clarify their task. Their new instructions did emphasize the immediacy of the task with the announcement that the “kingdom was at hand” (Matthew 10:7). It also spelled out more completely the scope of their authority by telling them not only to heal, but to “cleanse the lepers, cast out devils, and raise the dead” (Matthew 10:8). He began by giving them his own authority and power to do his work (Mark 6:7; Matthew 10:1; Luke 9:1), and he closed by assuring them that what they were doing was as though he were doing it himself: “He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me” (Matthew 10:40).
Jesus instructed his disciples to find some friendly person in each town they visited, and live there as long as they continued their evangelistic work in the area: “Into whatsoever city or village ye shall enter, search out who in it is worthy; and there abide till ye go forth” (Matthew 10:11). In effect, the disciples were told to concentrate their time on the most promising individuals in each town who could follow up their work after they had gone. Jesus had lived by this principle with his own disciples, and he expected them to do the same. His whole plan of evangelism depended on it, and those places that refused the disciples opportunity to practice this principle actually brought the judgment of utter darkness on themselves.
Jesus assured them that everyone who confessed him before men would be remembered before his Father in heaven (Matthew 10:32). His admonition to be “as wise as serpents, and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16) underscored the need for propriety and tactfulness. He also made clear the cost: “He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that doth not take his cross and follow after me, is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10:34–38).
Not many months after this, “seventy others” were sent out again two by two to witness for their Lord (Luke 10:1). Again the instructions were essentially the same as those delivered earlier to the Twelve (Luke 10:2–16). One addition in this new commission was the reminder that they were going “into every city and place, whither he himself was about to come” (Luke 10:1).
Later, as Jesus had breakfast with his disciples by the Sea of Tiberias, he told Peter three times to feed his sheep (John 21:15–17). This admonition was interpreted as the proof of Peter’s love to the Master. On a mountain in Galilee he gave his Great Commission to not only the eleven disciples (Matt. 28:16) but also to the whole church, numbering then about five hundred brethren (1 Corinthians 15:6). It was a clear proclamation of his strategy of world conquest: “All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I commanded you: and lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world” (Matthew 28:18–20). Jesus went on to show that “repentance and remission of sin should be preached in his name unto all nations, beginning from Jerusalem” (Luke 24:47).
Jesus did not leave the work of evangelism subject to human impression or convenience. To his disciples it was a definite command, perceived by impulse at the beginning of their discipleship, but progressively clarified in their thinking as they followed him. Christian disciples are sent men and women—sent out in the same work of world evangelism to which the Lord was sent, and for which he gave his life. Evangelism is not an optional accessory to your life. It is the heartbeat of all that you are called to be and do. With this purpose clearly in focus, everything done and said has glorious fulfillment—educational institutions, social programs, hospitals, church meetings of any kind—everything done in the name of Christ has its justification in fulfilling this mission.
Do ye not yet perceive? — Mark 8:17
Jesus’ plan of teaching—by example, assignment, and constant checkup—was calculated to bring out the best that was in his disciples. Consider the incident while Jesus was on the Mount of Transfiguration with Peter, James, and John. In his absence, the other disciples had tried to heal a demon-possessed boy brought to them by the father. The case was too much for their faith, and when Jesus returned he found the distraught father with the sick child having a fit before the helpless disciples. Jesus took care of the boy, but he did not let the occasion pass without giving the frustrated disciples a much-needed lesson on how they, through more prayer and fasting, should have laid hold upon God’s faithfulness (Mark 9:17–29; Matthew 17:14–20; Luke 9:37–43).
Much of our effort for the Kingdom is dissipated because we fail, not because we do not try to do something, but because we let our little efforts become an excuse for not doing more. The result is that we lose by default the advantage of years of hard work and sacrifice. When will we learn the lesson of Christ not to be satisfied merely with the firstfruits of those who are sent out to witness?
It is thus crucial that those engaging in the work of evangelism have personal supervision and guidance until such time as they are mature enough to carry on alone.
Go and bring forth fruit. — John 15:16
You must not fail to see the direct relation between bearing witness of Christ and the ultimate victory over the world. One cannot come without the other. Bringing these two dynamic facts together by the power of the Holy Spirit is the climactic genius of Jesus’ strategy of evangelism.
In one of his most simple yet profound analogies, Christ explained that the purpose of both the vine (himself) and the branches (believers in him) was to bear fruit. Any branch that did not yield produce was cut off by the husbandman—it was worthless. Those branches which did produce were pruned that they might yield more fruit (John 15:2). The life-sustaining power of the vine was not to be bestowed endlessly on lifeless branches. Any branch that lived on the vine had to produce to survive, for that was its intended nature. As surely as the disciples were participants in his life, even so they would bear his fruit (John 15:5, 8), and their fruit would remain (John 15:16). A barren Christian is a contradiction. A tree is known by its fruit.
This principle was emphasized time and again throughout his ministry. It was seen as the inevitable reward of his own sacrifice for the world (John 12:24). It was made the distinguishing work of those who did the will of his Father in heaven (Matthew 7:16–23; Luke 6:43–45). It was interpreted as the wages given to his disciples for their work in the harvest (John 4:36–38). It was recognized as that which was denied those who “let the cares of the world, the deceitfulness of riches, and the lusts of other things” choke out the Word of God (Mark 4:18–20). It was observed as the thing lacking in the lives of the Sadducees and Pharisees that made them so wretched in his sight (Matthew 3:7–8; 12:33–34; Luke 13:6–9). In various ways and among all kinds of people, Jesus called men to evaluate the product of their lives.
The Great Commission commanded the church to “make disciples of every creature” (Matthew 28:19). The word indicates that the disciples were to go out and win others who would come to be what they themselves were—disciples of Christ. When the Greek text is studied, the words go, baptize, and teach are all participles that derive their force from the one controlling verb “make disciples.” The Great Commission is not merely to go to the ends of the earth preaching the gospel, nor to baptize converts, nor to teach them the precepts of Christ, but to make disciples—to build people who were so constrained by the commission of Christ that they not only followed his way but led others to as well. Only as disciples were made could the other activities of the commission fulfill their purpose.
The test of any work of evangelism is not what is seen at the moment, or in the conference report, but in the effectiveness with which the work continues in the next generation. Similarly, the criteria on which a church should measure its success is not how many new names are added to the roll nor how much the budget is increased, but rather how many Christians are actively winning souls and training them to win the multitudes. The ultimate extent of our witness is what matters, and for this reason values can be measured only by eternity.
This is our problem of methodology today. Well-intended ceremonies, programs, organizations, commissions, and crusades of human ingenuity are trying valiantly to do a job that can only be done by people in the power of the Holy Spirit. When will we realize that evangelism is not done by something, but by someone? It is an expression of God’s love, and God is a person. His nature, being personal, is only expressed through personality, first revealed fully in Christ, and now expressed through his Spirit in the lives of those yielded to him. Committees may help to organize and direct it, and to that end they certainly are needed, but the work itself is done by people reaching other people for Christ.
It is not better methods, but better men and women who know their Redeemer from personal experience—men and women who see his vision and feel his passion for the world—men and women who are willing to be nothing so that he might be everything—men and women who want only for Christ to produce his life in and through them according to his own good pleasure.
I am the Alpha and the Omega. — Revelation 1:8
What is the plan of your life? Everyone has to live by some plan. The plan is the organizing principle around which the aim of life is carried out. You may not be conscious of the plan in every action, or even know that you have a plan, but your actions invariably unfold some kind of pattern at the center of things. When you actually get right down to it and try to see your objective and how you are going about to achieve it, what you discover may not be very satisfying. But an honest appraisal should cause you to be more concerned for your calling—at least if you believe Jesus’ way is the rule by which every action should be tested.
The Master gives you an outline to follow, but he expects you to work out the details according to local circumstances and traditions. This demands every bit of resourcefulness you have. New and bold approaches will need to be tried as situations change, and not everything tried will work. A person unwilling to fail in the determination to find some way to get the job done will never get started, nor will the one afraid to try and try again make much progress.
If you are to train people, you must work for them. You must seek them. You must win them. Above all, you must pray for them. Nor does it matter how small or inauspicious the beginning may be; what counts is that those to whom you give priority in your life learn to give it away.
It is not necessary to broadcast what is being done, or even at first to tell the group what your ultimate plan is—just let the meetings grow out of the common need for fellowship. In turn the group can work out its own particular discipline within the framework of the church.
When asked what he would do as pastor of a large city church, Billy Graham replied: “I think one of the first things I would do would be to get a small group of eight or ten or twelve people around me that would meet a few hours a week and pay the price! It would cost them something in time and effort. I would share with them everything I have, over a period of years. Then I would actually have twelve ministers among the laypeople who in turn could take eight or ten or twelve more and teach them. I know one or two churches that are doing that, and it is revolutionizing the church. Christ, I think, set the pattern. He spent most of his time with twelve men. He didn’t spend it with a great crowd. In fact, every time he had a great crowd it seems to me that there weren’t too many results. The great results, it seems to me, came in this personal interview and in the time he spent with his twelve.”
But it is not enough just to involve persons in some kind of group association, of which the church is but the larger expression. They must be given some way to express the things they have learned. Unless opportunity is provided for this outreach, the group can stagnate in self-contentment, and eventually fossilize into nothing more than a mutual admiration society. You must keep your purpose clear.
The world is desperately seeking someone to follow. That they will follow someone is certain, but will that person be one who knows the way of Christ, or will he or she be one like themselves, leading them on only into greater darkness?