How one thinks of discipleship within evangelicalism depends
upon how one draws the line around that movement. If one draws the line, as is
now common, to include only the "evangelicalism" that emerged from the
conservative-to-fundamentalist churches of North America after World War II,
then there is very little to say about discipleship there except what is
anecdotal—and there is not a lot of that. There has simply been no consistent
general teaching or practice under the heading of discipleship among
evangelicals of this period: none that would be recognizable as
discipleship in terms of biblical teaching or of the Christian past.
In the post WW II period the strongest association of
evangelicalism was with evangelism, and for many citizens of North
America the only thing they knew of evangelicals was that they are evangelistic.
And indeed they were. They were intent upon proclaiming a gospel of
"salvation" and upon winning converts to Christ. The most visible
evangelical of the period was the world-renowned evangelist, Billy Graham. And
the sub-group of evangelicals most associated with programs of discipleship, the
Navigators, was focused upon winning converts—converts who were explicitly
recognized by them as not being disciples until an optional further stage
in commitment. Being a disciple was, for them, to be in training to become a
soul winner, and discipleship was the process of training you underwent (under
the direction of "workers," people of a third stage of
commitment and development) to enable you to win converts.1
The slogan of the Navigators was "To know Christ and to
make Him known." Their aim, as they said, was "to produce
reproducers."
This vision was firmly tied to the version of the Gospel and of
salvation that dominated evangelicalism during the period. It was strictly a
gospel of forgiveness of sins and assurance of heaven after death upon
profession of faith in Jesus Christ—or, minimally, profession of faith in his
having suffered the penalty for our sins upon the cross. If you believed in his
death as your substitute, you were a Christian, even though you never became a
disciple. Many of the Navigators were certainly among the finest followers of
Christ from any period of Christian history. Their founder, Dawson Trotman, was
an ardent disciple of Jesus by any sane standard and one of the greatest of 20th-century
Christ followers.2 But as
disciples, Navigators were far better than their theology and their program.
They have blessed and continue to bless the earth with their lives and
testimonies. Nevertheless, in them the essential disconnection between
post WW II evangelicalism and discipleship prevailed and still prevails today.
Relying On Correct Beliefs Alone
During the mid- to late 20th Century, evangelicalism came to
define itself in terms of the profession of correct belief alone. Holding
correct doctrine was standardly presented as the condition of forgiveness of
sins. Obsessed with threats from modernism and liberal theology, on the one
hand, and from the looming presence of an allegedly "scientific" world
view on the other, evangelicalism undertook to "contend earnestly for the
faith which was once for all delivered to the saints." (Jude verse 3) This
meant to defend the truth of doctrines taken to be essential to a
"saving" faith in Christ. Ironically, this phase of evangelicalism
developed—as a social form—into a particular version of "nominal
Christianity." It had traditionally defined itself in opposition to
nominal Christianity, emphasizing as it did an individualized "birth from
above" and an ongoing personal experience of God. But its actual
"nominal" status is the reality back of the statistics often quoted at
the beginning of the 21st Century, that show little or no behavioral
difference between the lives of contemporary evangelicals on the whole and the
lives of those outside its circles. Being a Christian in evangelical terms came
to be a matter of professing belief in time-honored tenets of traditional
Christianity, with a few additional points about the nature and authority of the
Bible and about eschatology.3
Called To a Closer Walk
But that left a deficiency which came to be deeply felt—especially
among evangelicals most seriously devoted to Christ. This felt need for experience
of God, for a life in God, expressed itself in various ways—ways always
in some tension with the prevailing theology and with the most prominent
evangelical leaders and teachers of the time. This tension has been an enduring
problem within modern evangelicalism. It has expressed itself in various ways:
for example, through interest in what was viewed as "higher life" or
"deeper life" teachings. The "Keswick Movement" (associated
with the Keswick Convention, running from 1875 to the present4)
was centered on these teachings, and interest in them was
cultivated by such authors as Andrew Murray (1828-1917) and F. B. Meyer
(1847-1929). A slightly older work by Hannah Whitall Smith, The Christian’s
Secret of a Happy Life (1875), was very influential in this vein,
along with numerous similar writings, and more contemporary works such as
Rosalind Rinker’s book, Prayer: Conversing with God (1959), which
presented prayer as a lively conversation with God. These and similar works
revitalized the "devotional life" of many evangelicals, often taken by
them to be "discipleship" itself. Still older Catholic writers
such as Thomas á Kempis (The Imitation of Christ) and Brother Lawrence (The
Practice of the Presence of God) stoked the hidden fires of evangelical
devotion—simultaneously confirming the grim suspicions of many leaders and
teachers that the "deeper life" seekers and teachers were not properly
evangelical. They were not satisfied with just believing the essentials or with
"the pure milk of the word."
The "Charismatic Movement"—breaking out in the early
20th Century in its "Holiness" form, and reviving in the
post WW II period without the emphasis on holiness—was yet another
challenge to the adequacy of this most recent "official" form of
evangelical Christianity. Many evangelical leaders simply rejected the
charismatic experience, and taught (some still teach) that charismatics are
misled and dangerous to the faith. This was largely for fear that their
"experiences" were not biblical and would undermine the authority of
the Bible. But the hunger for and reality of an interactive life with God (the
Holy Spirit) was not to be denied to people generally, and today the most
effectual carriers of "evangelical truths" to the world are in fact
charismatics. However, the focus upon spiritual gifts that characterizes the
charismatic groups and teachers still does not include a realistic and
theologically coherent teaching and practice of discipleship. It is still true
of them that to be a Christian—even a "Spirit-filled" Christian—does
not require that you be a disciple of Jesus Christ, or that you, through
the course of discipleship, take on the character of Jesus Christ in your life
as a whole.
The widely felt inadequacy of the official 20th-century
evangelical teachings to life (however effectual for death and judgment) also
expressed itself by the emergence of "Christian Psychology" among
evangelicals in the 1960s. This movement was a tacit acknowledgement that
teaching the truth, and eliciting profession of the central doctrines, did not
solve the problems of Christian living. As a result it was strongly resisted
across a broad range of evangelical life. By the 21st century,
however, it had burgeoned into a vast profession, with extensive training and
higher academic degrees available from the most prominent of evangelical
educational institutions. It clearly intersects in aims and some of its methods
with what would have counted as discipleship or training in following Christ at
other times and places. Many of the larger evangelical churches and groups now
provide psychological counseling as a major part of their ministry.
Currently, Christian psychology is interacting with yet another
significant tendency in evangelical life. The emergence of "spiritual
formation" among evangelicals toward the end of the 20th century was also a
response to the felt need of many for a spiritual life, in addition to
correct beliefs and outward practices. This need was associated with the
increasing failure of "denominational distinctives" to constitute a
spiritual existence or a life for the individual. It is rare to find
evangelicals within these churches who could make a life of being a
Presbyterian, Baptist, Catholic, Lutheran, Pentecostal, etc. By contrast,
"spiritual formation," like discipleship itself during some periods of
the past, was associated with learning to live a remarkably different kind of
life: one of pervading spiritual reality and transformed character. In its
quest, spiritual formation among evangelicals reached out to learn from the
Church and from Christians across the ages, on the one hand, and it also turned
the individual’s focus toward redemption of their life as a whole.5
"Spiritual formation" edged—however obscurely or
unintentionally—toward thinking of salvation, the essence of Christian
deliverance, in more comprehensive terms than the after-life alone. Once again,
prominent evangelical spokespersons, were uneasy. But how one understands
salvation turns out to be the key to what one makes of discipleship, as well as
to any possible renewal of evangelicalism as a redemptive force for the future.
Post WW II evangelicalism simply had no essential place for discipleship in its
view of salvation.
Evangelicalism from Wesley to Finney
We must draw the line around evangelicalism beyond post WWII America if
we are to see any close connection between its vital core and discipleship to
Jesus Christ. It is sometimes said that evangelical Christianity began in
the 18th Century, with people who were willing to preach out of doors
at a time when that was a very radical step. The reference to "preaching
out of doors" picks out the ministries of George Whitefield (1714-1770) and
John Wesley (1703-1791), but also of many preachers who followed after them in
the settlements and frontiers of America. Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758), though
he did not regularly "preach out of doors," is often regarded as
historic evangelicalism’s most competent theologian (we must not forget his
overlap with Puritanism). Some have even thought of evangelicals as an American
brand of Protestant Christianity. This unfortunately results in seeing
contemporary evangelicalism as having a greater continuity with the evangelical
past than it actually has. The "revivalism" of George Whitefield, John
Wesley, Jonathan Edwards, and even up to Charles Finney (in the first half of
the 19th Century), was a very different kind of thing from the
"revivals" of the 20th Century, which were almost entirely
focused upon converting the lost. The revivals of the 1800s gradually transmuted
into evangelistic campaigns or "outreach." The earlier evangelical
"revivalists," by contrast, focused upon "stirring up"
Christians or church members, and urging them on to overall holiness of life and
devotion to God.6 That is why the
word "revival" was used by them. What they did naturally led into a
process of learning and growing in holiness and power, as the New Testament
clearly presupposes. Evangelizing was a natural side effect of the revival of
slumbering Christians, and the evangelizing of this earlier period easily saw
discipleship to Jesus as a natural development from conversion and confidence in
Jesus Christ as Lord, and therefore Master and Teacher.
New Testament language fits well with this earlier phase of
evangelicalism, as compared to today’s: "Work out your salvation with
fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to
work for His good pleasure. Do all things without grumbling or disputing; that
you may turn out to be blameless and innocent, children of God above reproach in
the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you appear as lights
in the world." (Phil. 2:12-15) This calling and reality was not
thought by earlier evangelicals to be for a special group of Christians—perhaps
"full-time Christian workers"—but as the opportunity and obligation
of everyone who placed their hope in Christ. It was a shift away from this
viewpoint that opened the way for 20th Century evangelicalism,
dominated by a particular version of "Calvinist" theology and its
peculiar soteriology. Eighteenth- and nineteenth-century evangelicalism made an
essential place for holiness and wholeness, for transformation of character and
for ordinary occupations as divine calling. An excellent place to see this at
its best is in the sermons and writings of Phillips Brooks (1835-1893). It was
entirely natural to the underlying theology of the earlier period that Wesley
and Finney, both "revivalist" in the earlier sense, developed
and applied elaborate, scripturally based accounts of Christian perfection
as something continuous in its nature with Christian salvation. Their
theology was essentially Armenian and thus their understanding of grace and
salvation was quite different from that of their 20th-century
counterparts. While discipleship could be seen as a natural part of salvation as
they understood it, the later evangelicals have been more careful to avoid
"perfectionism" than to avoid sin. They favor bumper stickers that
say, "Christians are not perfect, just forgiven." Just
forgiven. There lies the problem for contemporary evangelicalism with respect to
discipleship. What does discipleship have to do with forgiveness? With saving
faith?
The Sources of Evangelicalism in Luther
To respond to these questions adequately we must push the time line
further back, to the point in Western history where the terminology
"evangelical" enters the stream of Christianity. The language
originates in 16th-century Germany, amidst the turmoil and violence
of the Protestant Reformation. People became known as "evangelicals"
because of their appeal to the Gospels, the "Evangels," of the New
Testament, against the authority and power of traditional institutions and
sources. It was at Martin Luther’s (1483-1546) suggestion that the new
churches emerging out of the turmoil called themselves "evangelical"
("evangelische"). Philip Melanchthon (1497-1560) drew up a
standard form of "evangelical" worship service, with Luther’s
approval; and Luther himself wrote out his "Shorter Catechism" in
1529. Preaching became the centerpiece of the public meeting, and church
architecture changed to accommodate that and make it easier for the attendees to
hear the sermon. Congregational singing was introduced and Luther became a
writer of great hymns. For many people throughout Europe still today,
"evangelical" simply means "Protestant."
What lay at the heart of evangelical religion at its origin? Two
things: (1) devotion to the Bible as the ultimate source of authority and divine
life, and (2) personal experience of conversion to and of practical communion
with God. These, with the fundamental tensions built into them and with all of
the blessings and problems they present, are the bedrock of evangelical
religion, today as in the past. They in fact are what have sustained and driven
evangelical religion, for individuals and for groups, up to its latest surges of
charismata and "spiritual formation." The followers of Luther soon
drifted from these two basic elements in various ways, into splintering
"orthodoxies," institutional deadness, and social conformity. The
landscape of history is littered with the skeletons of these
"orthodoxies," and even with the skeletons of further movements that
arose to revive those skeletons. Pietism (17th Century) soon
arose, to counteract or revive the Lutheran orthodoxy that settled over much of
Europe within a century or so after Luther. Then there is a current of
continuity running from the radical faith of Luther himself, though the great
Pietist teachers, Philipp Spener (1635-1705) and August Hermann Francke
(1663-1727), to the Moravians, on to Wesley, and to the holiness, "Deeper
Life," and Charismatic streams running through or alongside the later
evangelical churches, right up to the "spiritual formation" impulses
of the present times. Basic evangelicalism is a theologia cordi, "a
religion of the heart," joined in an unstable relationship to the exclusive
authority of Scripture. The influence of this basic evangelicalism on other
social formations and denominations of the Christian Church remains constant and
irrepressible. Its ever-present insistence that being a Christian is a matter of
a life one lives founded in biblical teachings and consisting in personal
interaction with God and the various facets of his kingdom, connects with deep
hungers of the human soul. The effort to force the basic genius of
evangelicalism into the armor of a more particular orthodoxy—a recurring
tendency running rampant on the heels of Luther and painfully oppressive at
later times including post WW II America—is perpetually resisted by the stream
of spiritual life flowing from scripture and from the intermingling of human
life with the Trinitarian presence.
The New Testament Picture of Discipleship
Evangelicalism always looks to the Bible as the point of reference from
which concepts are defined, practices legitimated, and principles adopted. So we
must ask what can be made of discipleship and of the disciple of Jesus as seen
in the life of the New Testament. Indeed, as it turns out, the New Testament
"disciple" is by no means a peculiarly "Christian"
innovation.7 The disciple is one
aspect of the progressive and massive decentralization of Judaism that began
with the destruction of the first Temple (588 BC) and the Babylonian exile, and
proceeds through the dispersal of the Jewish people among the nations that
followed the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD. During this period the synagogue
emerges as the center of the local Jewish communities, devotion to the Torah
becomes the focus of the synagogue, and the rabbi or "great one" stood
forth in the role of interpreter of Torah: "By degrees, attachment to the
law sank deeper and deeper into the national character…. Hence the law became
a deep and intricate study. Certain men rose to acknowledged eminence for their
ingenuity in explaining, their readiness in applying, their facility in quoting,
and their clearness in offering solutions of, the difficult passages of the
written statutes."8 The rabbi
with his coterie of special students was a familiar feature of Jewish religious
practice by the time of Jesus.
There was no one way in which to become a rabbi in the Jewish
society of Jesus’ day. It is true that most of those who became rabbis did so
by studying under a rabbi, and having a "formal" training had some
obvious advantages. But there was no "licensing" process, and an
element of the Old Testament prophet carried over to the role of rabbi. A rabbi
could, like the prophet, be "from nowhere." His was a
performance-based status, and public recognition as a rabbi was a
response to the power of the individual’s words and deeds, not to their
"credentials." The usual path of advancement seems to have been
through the schools for young people around the synagogue. Some students did
very well, memorizing huge portions of scripture and listening to
interpretations by teachers. Then, if they wished, they might approach a rabbi
requesting him to take them as their disciple. If accepted, there would follow a
lengthy period of close association with their rabbi—hearing, observing and
imitating. They were simply with their rabbi, serving him and becoming
like him in thought, character, and abilities. Jesus’ observation that "a
disciple does not rise above his teacher; but everyone after he has been fully
trained will reach his teacher’s level" (Luke 6:40), was both a
commonplace observation about the nature of the rabbi/disciple relation and—as
the context makes clear—a warning about the limitations and dangers of that
arrangement. ("Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall
into a pit?" (Luke 6: 39)
Jesus and His Disciples
However, Jesus did not simply fit himself into the more or less standard
model of the rabbi. He had no "formal" education beyond the synagogue
schools and did not become a disciple of a rabbi. He did receive a (very
unorthodox) stamp of approval from John the Baptizer, but not as his disciple.
He was known to the people around him as uneducated. Amazed at the depth and
power of his words they exclaimed: "How does this man have such learning,
when he has never been taught?" (John 7:15) Also, Jesus did not accept
disciples upon application, testing them to see if they were "worthy."
He personally selected—though not from "the best and the brightest"
in his community—those he would especially train. There was a larger outer
circle of people who seem to have just showed up in his presence and received
training of various degrees (the "other seventy" of Luke 10:1, for
example, and the group in the "upper room" of Acts 1:13) Often
would-be disciples were subjected to severe discouragement by him (Matt.
8:18-22, Luke 9:57-62 and 14:26-33). He also leveled scalding criticisms at the
proud practitioners of the law in his day (Matt. 23:13-33, Luke 11:39-52) and
prohibited his followers from being called "rabbi" and using other
"respectful greetings" exchanged among those who took themselves to be
highly qualified as teachers (Matt. 23:1-12). He was not "one of the
boys," nor were his disciples to be.
Nevertheless, the basic nature of the rabbi/disciple
relationship of his day was retained by Jesus and his disciples and, arguably,
remains normative to this day. That relationship is very simple in description.
His disciples were with him, learning to be like him. "With
him" meant in that day that they were literally where he was and were
progressively engaged in doing what he was doing. Jesus moved about the Jewish
villages and towns, primarily around the Sea of Galilee, with occasional forays
beyond that and especially to Jerusalem. His main disciples
("apostles") were with him in all of this, and no doubt at
considerable hardship to themselves and their families. Peter on one occasion
plaintively remarks: "We have left everything to follow you" (Matt.
19:27). It was no doubt a thought that often occurred to his disciples.
As they traveled about he did three things in the synagogues,
homes and public areas: He announced the availability of life in the
kingdom of God, he taught about how things were done in the kingdom of
God, and he manifested the present power of the kingdom by amazing deeds
(Matt. 4:23, 9:35, Luke 4:18-44). Then, after a period of training, he set his
disciples to doing the things they had heard and seen in him—continuing all
the while to evaluate their work and to teach them as they progressed. This
continued through his trial and death, and during his post-resurrection presence
with them when he trained them in how he would be with them after his
ascension, without visible presence. His instruction as he left was for his
disciples to make disciples of all "nations"—of all types of
people—and his promise was that he would be with them always until the
end of the age. (Matt. 28:19-20)
The Method of ‘Being With’ Passed on Through Disciples
While the charge was to make disciples of Jesus and not of the
disciples, the basic method—teaching, example, and imitation—remained the
same as his immediate followers proceeded to do what he had told them to do. The
method was: to gather a group of people by telling the story of Jesus, featuring
his resurrection and pending return, to show by example what it meant to live with
him now, already beyond death, and to lead others into such a life of being
"with Jesus, learning to be like him." No New Testament text better
fills out what this life of learning was than Colossians 3:1-17.
The role of example and imitation in the learning community of
disciples is often stressed in the New Testament. Numerous statements from the
Apostle Paul concisely state the strategy of being and making disciples. In one
of his earliest letters to groups of disciples he reminds the readers of how
"Our gospel [proclamation] did not come to you in word only, but also in
power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction; just as you know what
kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake. You also became imitators
of us and of the Lord, having received the word in much tribulation with the Joy
of the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all believers in Macedonia
and in Achaia." (1 Thess. 1:5-7)
Paul proceeds in this letter to spell out how he and his fellow
workers lived "pure, upright, and blameless" in their conduct toward
the believers, and to encourage them to "lead a life worthy of God, who
calls you into his own kingdom and glory." (2:10-12) In 1 Corinthians he
exhorts the believers to imitate him, to be "reminded of my ways which are
in Christ" (4:16-17), and to "be imitators of me, just as I also am of
Christ." (11:1) In 2 Thessalonians he indicates that the readers "know
how you ought to imitate us." He reminds them of how he led a disciplined
life and worked hard to support himself, "not because we do not have that
right [to support from them], but in order to offer ourselves as a model for you
that you might imitate us." (3:7-9) To the Philippians he said: "Keep
on doing the things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and
the God of peace will be with you." (4:9) He elsewhere reminds Timothy that
he had "observed my teaching, my conduct, my aim in life, my faith, my
patience, my love, my steadfastness, my persecutions and suffering the things
that happened to me in Antioch, Iconium, and Lystra." (2 Tim. 3:10-11) And
in an earlier letter he directed him to "show himself an example to those
who believe." (1 Tim. 4:12) The writer of the letter to the Hebrews
counsels his readers not to be sluggish, "but imitators of those who
through faith and patience inherit the promises." (6:17) They should
"[r]emember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider
the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith." (13:7) As it
was for "your leaders," the writer assures them, it will also be for
you, and that is because "Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday and today and
forever." (vss. 8-9) The point of this much misapplied verse is, as the
context makes clear, that the nature of discipleship to Jesus and its outcomes
does not change.
Transformation Through This Kind of Discipleship
Now this practice of discipleship in the communities of Christ followers—being
with Christ learning to be like him, in part by being with those who are further
along on that same path—is what lends realism and hope to the glowing pictures
of his people that stand out from the pages of the New Testament. Such passages
as Matthew chapters 5-7, John chapters 14-17, Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 13,
Ephesians chapters 4-5, and Colossians 3 readily come to mind. These are not
just passages stating required behaviors, as laws might do—"Turn
the other cheek" and so forth—not a new and sterner legalism. Rather, as
expressing what lies "beyond the righteousness of the scribes and
Pharisees" (Matt. 5:20), they are indications of what life becomes
for those who are devoted disciples of Jesus Christ within the fellowship of
disciples and under the administration of the Word and of the Holy Spirit. A
life of this quality is the "output" of disciples of Jesus who make
disciples wherever they go, gather them in Trinitarian reality, and teach them
in such a way that they come to do all that Jesus told us to do out of
transformed personalities. What is now generally regarded as "normal
Christianity" drops away with the "cleaning of the inside of the
cup" (Matt. 23:25-26). Discipleship is the status or position within which
spiritual (trans)formation occurs.
As we have noted, Post-WW II evangelicalism does not naturally
conduct its converts and adherents into a life of discipleship, nor into
pervasive Christlikeness of character—with the routine, easy obedience that it
entails. What this most recent version of evangelicalism lacks is a theology
of discipleship. Specifically, it lacks a clear teaching on how what happens
at conversion continues on without break into an ever fuller life in the Kingdom
of God. How, to cite Paul’s language, does "the grace of God that
brings salvation" discipline us, train us, in such a way that we turn from
"ungodliness and worldly lust" to live lives that are "sensible,
righteous, and godly in the present world"? (Titus 2:11-14; cp. Phil.
2:12-15) How is it, exactly, that he who gave himself for us also "redeems
us from all iniquity and purifies for himself a people of his own who are
zealous for good deeds"? (vs. 14; cp. Eph. 2:10) To such questions
contemporary evangelicalism has no answer. Its doctrine of grace and salvation
prevents it from developing an understanding of discipleship that makes
discipleship ("being with Jesus learning to be like him") a natural
part of salvation. The basic genius of evangelicalism as such, however, is never
content to leave the matter there.
FOOTNOTES
1. This three-fold scheme is laid out in LeRoy
Eims, The Lost Art of Disciple-making (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan,
1978), which long served as an unofficial guide for the work of Navigators. Return
to text
2. See Daws: A Man Who Trusted God,
Colorado Springs: Navpress, 1974. Return
to text
3. There are, of course, many individuals among
evangelicals today who would not accept this. Charismatics and heirs of the
various "holiness" traditions would find it hard to swallow. But then
what is emphasized by them is still not discipleship. Return
to text
4. Keswick is a town in the district of
Allerdale, Cumbria-- in the "Lake District" of England, a center of
tourism for centuries. Keswick became the venue for an annual Christian
Convention beginning in 1875 and continuing today. It was a well-known source of
"higher life" teachings for more than a century, and has been
influential around the world. Return
to text
5. The work of Richard Foster and his Renovaré
ministry was highly influential in this direction. Return
to text
6. On this consult Charles Finney’s lectures
on Revivals of Religion, (Old Tappan NJ: Fleming H. Revell, n.d.; many
editions) along with the works of Jonathan Edwards. Return
to text
7. See the careful study of the history of the
"disciple" in the world of the New Testament provided by Michael J.
Wilkins, The Concept of Disciple in Matthew’s
Gospel, as Reflected in the Use of the Term
Μαθητής, Leiden: E. J. Brill,
1988. Return
to text
8. John M’Clintock and James Strong, edd., Cyclopaedia
of Biblical, Theological, and Ecclesiastical Literature, Vol. VIII, New
York: Harper and Brothers, 1894, p. 870. Return
to text
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Henderson, D. Michael, A Model for Making Disciples: John
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