Ch 3 Called to Be Whole

During the first year or so after I became a Christian, the thought of being a disciple of Jesus never entered my mind. Then I started thinking about what I could do for him as both my Savior and Lord. Little did I realize at that stage how problematic this focus would be in my journey of faith.

The most misleading perception about discipleship prevailing among Christians is that it is primarily about serving (hence Lord as well as Savior). Jesus’ disciples serve, and this lens reinforces many Christians to be satisfied (or complacent) with merely attending church and doing the minimum in their faith practice (hence only Savior). On the other hand, some Christians serve in sanctioned capacities (even as lead disciples), which ironically allows them to do perhaps not the minimum but the less demanding in their faith practice (hence a Lord in name). In either practice, the primary discipleship lens of serving is a critical issue that usually is unaddressed, because its underlying dynamic is propelled by a reduced theological anthropology defining our persons by the quantity of what we do.

The subtle dynamic of our theological anthropology is an ongoing issue defining his disciples that Jesus had to pursue, intrude, correct (or clarify or convict) and transform (his relational involvement of PICT-ing). Such disciples were exposed in asking Jesus, “What must we do to perform the works [pl.] of God?” Jesus corrected this fragmentary lens defining persons with a prominently misinterpreted declaration: “This is the work [sing.] of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent” (Jn 6:28-29). Sola fide, right?—which reinforces the majority of church goers’ practice above. But, this latter group would contend “that faith apart from works is barren…is also dead” (Jas 2:20,26). Such thinking persists today as our underlying theological anthropology goes unchecked.

In the PICT-ing of his relational involvement, Jesus integrates the relational significance of faith that defines his disciples and composes their discipleship—the only sola gratia that embodies sola fide.

In his declaration to the above diverse disciples, Jesus’ manifesto for discipleship appears to indicate that disciples are first chosen by God in order to come to Jesus (Jn 6:37,44,65). Jesus makes this definitive to the twelve disciples with “Did I not choose you?” (6:70, cf.15:16). The idea of ‘chosen’ in referential language/terms would be similar to the doctrine of election; besides raising questions about reduced human ontology and function, a related issue is the use of narrowed-down terms that reflects the influence of reductionism. The transmission of this kind of information by its reduced terms has been influential in shaping diverse disciples and discipleship. We need to recognize that referential language in theology and practice has reduced God’s communication to narrowed-down terms that fragment God’s relational message from the relational process of choosing us, whereby what remains is merely information. How so? For example, referential language is the prevailing dominant language of the Information Age, which technology has used as the primary substitute for communication in order to be both efficient and convenient—thus counter to the relational involvement that is inefficient as well as inconvenient.

Jesus communicates, however, in relational language with whole relational terms, and his relational message is vital for us to understand, receive and respond accordingly—no matter how inefficient and inconvenient it is for us to process. His relational message here is composed by two integral components to the relational work of discipleship:

1. To “come to me” (erchomai, 6:65) means to come together, which is only possible on God’s relational terms; contrary to common belief about believing him, coming together with Jesus is not possible by human terms, which are incongruous, incompatible and irreconcilable for relationship together; this relational connection, then, can be neither initiated by human persons nor brought into reality (not an alternative reality) by the work of persons, but only becomes an experiential reality by God’s relational response of grace; yet the relational reality that God initiates is not a unilateral relationship, in which disciples merely conform to set parameters (e.g. a code of conduct or Rule of Faith); God initiates the relational response necessary to be bonded together in only reciprocal relationship, the responsibility of which requires the mutual relational work of both subjects in the relationship (composing the Relationship of Faith)—not a so-called subject merely conforming or Subject-God just as an Object of faith.

2. Since human persons are shaped by terms incongruous, incompatible and irreconcilable to engage reciprocal relationship with God, to follow Jesus’ whole person is only possible on the relational basis of God’s whole relational terms; these are the nonnegotiable terms that definitively compose the primary relational work of believing demanded (not just requested) and thus imperative in order for our person to be in function congruent, compatible and reconciled in reciprocal relationship with the vulnerable presence and relational involvement of God embodied in Jesus.

This integral relational work for discipleship emerges and unfolds only from the relational outcome of the intrusive gospel of God’s face.

As the diverse disciples in this defining interaction learned decisively, they cannot respond to the call of “Follow me” except on the chosen basis of God’s whole relational terms. This also means for all his disciples:

The primary relational work of believing—that is, the relational involvement of the vulnerable trust of my whole person—the whole of Jesus’ person cannot be composed, shaped or influenced by any other terms, which would determine reciprocal relationship together on our terms and therefore continue to be incongruous, incompatible and irreconcilable.

By necessity then, Jesus’ disciples are both chosen and called, and this integral relational process is irreplaceable to receive and indispensable to embrace in order to unmistakably “Follow me, my whole ontology and function.”

The definitive call from Jesus is composed from the composite declaration that integrates key communications from him in relational language, communications expressed both verbally and nonverbally. His call emerges, unfolds, converges, with this relational outcome as follows.

Embodying the face of God, Jesus initiated his call with his distinct relational language that illuminates the depth of his relational message in “Follow me” (Mt 4:19; 8:22; Lk 5:27; 18:22). These defining relational terms are primary and, therefore, imperative even for those serving him (Jn 12:26). In Jesus’ call, serving is never first, primary or foremost for defining his disciples and determining their discipleship, thereby clarifying and correcting the misleading perception of discipleship noted above. Rather “whoever serves me must, by the nature of reciprocal relationship, first be relationally involved with my whole person, and where I am, there will my servant be also involved first and foremost.” Unmistakably then, what emerges from Jesus’ call is nothing less and no substitutes for the primacy of reciprocal relationship together—the nonnegotiable terms for defining his disciples and determining their discipleship, which are not subject to any shaping by our terms.

If Jesus’ call emerges only on the relational basis of his relational terms, what does this say for the diverse disciples and discipleship existing today? Many Christians may claim to follow Jesus, yet on the basis of what they have assumed or interpreted as “the works of God.” These are common alternative facts that Christians use to compose their practice of faith, so-called legitimated facts (or interpretations) that get conflated with the relational terms of Jesus’ call, which then transpose the depth of his relational message to “Follow me” into a behavioral code, program or system of discipleship. The subtle dynamic operating in lieu of Jesus’ relational process is the workings of human effort to determine the achievement of one’s faith—as in one’s righteousness, which, as Jesus made unequivocal, needed to be beyond reductionist practice (Mt 5:20). This is the self-determination valued by the rich ruler pursuing Jesus (Lk 18:20-23), and on which religious leaders depended to define their stature (Mt 6:1, cf. 23:5)—the comparative status measured by the achievement of what persons do and have. In his manifesto on discipleship, Jesus exposes the subtle dynamics of human effort engaged in self-autonomy (Mt 5:21-48), self-determination (Mt 6), and self-justification (Mt 7); these human efforts, even with good intentions of serving, all center on establishing our righteousness to define our person (i.e. our self-worth).

Jesus’ call precludes such human effort and negates such human engagement, in order to penetrate to the depth of persons and relationships where they truly are. And this intrusive relational path and process is how his call unfolds—perhaps even as a wake-up call for us today (cf. Rev 3:2).

In his manifesto Jesus makes unequivocal that the righteousness (the who, what and how) of his disciples must exceed the existing religious norms of reductionist leaders (Mt 5:20). On the other hand, Jesus clarified that his call unfolds on this unmistakable basis: “I have come to call not the righteous but sinners” (Mt 9:13)—that is, those who engage in sin as reductionism and thus live in reduced ontology and function. Given Jesus’ definitive manifesto, how does his call unfold from how his call emerged in the primacy of “Follow me?”

First of all, when Jesus was challenged by those espousing the religious norms of not comingling with sinners (notably Levi and his so-called gang, Mt 9:9-11), Jesus prefaced the above call by quoting Hosea 6:6: “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice’.” By this rebuttal, Jesus illuminated two further vital matters for discipleship:

1. He corrects another misconception that discipleship is about sacrifice and his disciples live a life of sacrifice.

2. His relational response of love is directed to persons in the condition of need because their person and relationships are reduced or fragmented—that is, those occupying the human condition, the human relational condition “to be apart” from God’s whole.

Certainly, this would include all sinners of reductionism—and does this exclude anyone?—but how does his call also encompass the righteousness of his disciples made unequivocal in his manifesto?

Those who participate in the human condition belong to an inclusive society that excludes no human person. Those who are righteous belong to an exclusive community that does not include just anyone; who is included depends on how righteousness is defined. Jesus came as the Great Physician and Savior, whose relational response of love was directed to the first group. Since this group includes all persons, Jesus doesn’t exclude anyone from his call. Yet, that may or may not include all persons. On the one hand, there is a definite distinction between the two groups. On the other hand, there is no distinction if persons recognize who, what and how they truly are. Most persons would acknowledge not being perfect; many persons have difficulty recognizing their sin, much less admitting it—that is, sin as reductionism that defines who, what and how all persons are, which means no one is righteous (as Paul made definitive, Rom 3:10,20). Recognizing and admitting our reductionism involves a vulnerability that is not inherent in the human condition; and this reality points to the heart of Jesus’ relational response of love that transforms persons to the whole who, what and how (righteousness) distinguishing his disciples as simply persons called to “Follow me.”

Jesus’ call, therefore, unfolds in the basic identity formation of his disciples, which Jesus makes definitive at the beginning of his manifesto for all his disciples and their discipleship to be in righteousness beyond reductionism. This relational process is outlined in the Beatitudes (Mt 5:3-11), which I introduce here and expand on in chapter five.

Depending on our theological anthropology, it can be more than difficult to get to the depth of who, what and how we are. Jesus penetrates our person immediately in order to compose the heart of our identity.

First Beatitude: “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (5:3). In order for this identity to emerge, it must begin with the full acknowledgement of our human condition. When we honestly look inside at our person, Jesus said the natural effect would be realization of the condition signified by “poor in spirit” (v.3). This condition is deeper than an identity deficit from a comparative process—for example, feeling bad or less about our self. “Poor” (ptochos) denotes abject poverty and utter helplessness; therefore this person’s only recourse is to beg. Just to be poor (penes) is a different condition from ptochos because this person can still, for example, go out to work for food. Penes may have little but ptochos has nothing at all. Ptochos, Jesus immediately identifies, is the true condition of our humanity, which precludes self-determination and justification generated from a false optimism about our self (Gen 3:4-6). This is human ontology after the primordial garden, yet not the full ontology of the whole person that still includes the viable image of God. Without the latter, ptochos would be a worthless person, and this is not Jesus’ focus on the ontology of the person. Nevertheless, ptochos does prevail in human ontology, and this condition is inescapable with false optimism and clearly makes evident the need for God’s relational work of grace. This juxtaposition is what we need to accept both about our person and from God—not only theologically but functionally because anything less than ptochos counters God’s grace, for example, by efforts to measure up, succeed or advance on the basis of self-determination shaped by what we do and/or have. By necessity, however, the ptochos person vulnerably appropriates God’s relational work of grace to relationally belong to the whole of God’s family, as Jesus said, “theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Yet, ptochos only begins the process of forming this new identity.

This irreplaceable Beatitude forms the basis for answering God’s question “Where are you as a person?”—with a response from our innermost, without deflection to or enhancement by secondary identity markers (notably idealized as Christians). Those markers keep our innermost unexposed in relational distance, just as the persons in the primordial garden—“I hid and kept relational distance from you; the situation and she made me do it” (Gen 3:10,12). Most of us are resistant to operate with the self-definition of ptochos, especially if we define ourselves by what we do or have and depend on these secondary markers for our primary identity. We may be able to accept this “spiritually” in an isolated identity but for practical everyday function in the real world, to live with this self-definition is problematic. While any alternatives and substitutes masking our true condition may make us feel less vulnerable, we will never be able to dance completely around the truth of our condition and this reality of human ontology—despite any facts we can present to reinforce these illusions and simulations.

In this first critical step in the formation of the new identity distinguishing his followers, Jesus provided no place or option for self-determination. Who and what we are as his followers is determined only by the function of reciprocal relationship with him as whose we are; and how we are in relationship together is only on his whole relational terms, which constitute the relationship and thus our identity in God’s grace. By this, Jesus discloses unmistakably that God’s grace demands the vulnerability of ptochos existing in our person (the honesty of heart) for ongoing relationship together to be whole—the same honesty of heart he strategically disclosed to the Samaritan woman (Jn 4:23-24). Without this innermost vulnerability our person does not open and extend our heart to make intimate relational connection with the heart of God to belong to God’s family (“kingdom of God is theirs”). This vulnerable connection goes deeper than a person with epistemic humility merely seeking more information, but it involves the depth of a person’s ontological humility needing to be whole from inner out. The former posture of humility just reflects the self-definition and relational error that is often practiced inconspicuously, as demonstrated by the rich young ruler (Mk 10:17-22).

In this provocative first step for composing our identity, the vulnerable honesty of our heart only begins the integral process to distinguish the identity as his disciples. The next interrelated step naturally flows from the first.

Second Beatitude: “Blessed are those who mourn” (5:4). Since the ontology of the person (from inner out) is never static, Jesus extends its dynamic function in this next irreplaceable step. When we are indeed ptochos, our honest response to our true condition is to “mourn” (pentheo, lament, grieve, deep sadness, v.4). If we accept our condition as ptochos—and not merely perceive it as penes, that is, a deficit needing to be overcome—then mourning would be the natural response of our heart. This, of course, depends on not narrowing down ptochos to referential information to use or store in our Christian handbooks. Yet, too often we insulate ourselves from such experience, though unknowingly we may get depressed. The tension involves issues of self-worth, which revolve around ptochos in terms of how we see and feel about ourselves. We tend not to recognize this matter because our heart is unaware of experiencing pentheo, likely only feeling insecure of how others perceive us—perhaps preoccupied in self-consciousness. Of course, we can ignore or reject others’ perceptions by our overestimated self-assessment, which renders these Beatitudes inapplicable to our identity.

In this second critical step in the process of identity formation, the person is taken further and deeper toward being redefined, transformed and made whole. This necessitates the functional ontology of the whole person, contrary to a reductionist practice that insulates the heart or keeps it at a distance of diminished involvement. The dynamic necessary is to open our heart and expose the pentheo by fully acknowledging, admitting and confessing our ptochos—which may not only be about one’s own condition but also the condition of humanity in general. The extent of this vulnerability can not only depress but also create despair, that is, if left in this condition.

The ironic influence of reductionism on human ontology is the simulation and illusion to be strong, self-determined, self-sufficient, and accordingly not in need of redefinition and transformation. In contrast and conflict, persons who pentheo address reality without reducing the person, yet not in self-pity but by vulnerably opening their whole person to God and not just a fragmented spirit of feeling bad. In this vulnerable relational process, their whole person is presented to God for comfort, healing, cleansing, forgiveness, and deeper involvement, so they can experience God’s intimate response—as Jesus assured “they will be comforted” (parakaleo, term used for every kind of call to a person that is intended to produce a particular effect). As Jesus further relationally disclosed ongoingly in his sanctified identity, the whole-ly God is relationally vulnerable to our humanity, and we must (dei) relationally reciprocate in likeness with what and who we are in our innermost. Functional intimacy in relationship involves hearts open to each other and coming together. Intimacy with God, therefore, necessitates by nature that our heart functions in its true humanity (as “in spirit and truth”)—nothing less and no substitutes. The process from the first Beatitude to the second engages this qualitative relational involvement that Jesus calls us to experience parakaleo in intimate relationship together. And these two irreplaceable steps involve the relational moments we extend our person to God the most openly and hereby give him the best opportunity to be with us—parakaleo not from outer in but for our ontology inner out.

Since identity is rooted in whose we are (e.g. culturally or socially), its formation is contingent on the ongoing function of this relationship. Belonging to God involves an irreducible and nonnegotiable relationship for our identity’s further and deeper growth. While pentheo defines only a degree of experience relative to each person—no set quantity of sackcloth and ashes—God does not let us remain in a state of gloom and perhaps fall into depression or despair. God’s thematic relational action never unilaterally allows for human ontology to remain in reductionism but only functions to make us whole. As Jesus did with tax collectors, a prostitute and others lacking wholeness, he extends God’s relational work of grace to us in our helplessness, pursues us vulnerably in the poverty of our humanity, redeems us (the parakaleo mainly from the common’s enslavement of reductionism) back to his family (on the relational terms of the Uncommon), therefore transforms our whole person for intimate relationship with the Father, and formally by covenant (through adoption) constitutes us as his very own children permanently belonging to the whole-ly God’s family (“theirs is the kingdom of heaven”). This relational process defines God’s thematic relational response only as family love—the vulnerable process of involvement based on the whole-ly Trinity’s relational work of grace, which continues as the basis for God’s new creation family to experience now even further and deeper in whole relationship together as the church until eschatological completion of God’s whole. This operationalizes the relational progression constituted by Jesus in his tactical shift (discussed further in the next chap.), the ongoing function of which he summarized in this major discourse to compose the new identity of the persons in his call. The relational dynamics converging here are essential to define the whole gospel and to determine its whole relational outcome.

If we indeed are involved in the depth of these first two steps, then the natural flow of this integral process will continue to lead inevitably to the ambivalent reality of the next step.

Third Beatitude: “Blessed are the meek” (5:5). The experiential truth of this relational reality is not usually functional in a linear process as it is reflexive (back and forth). God’s thematic relational response and ongoing vulnerable involvement with our humanity, most vulnerably disclosed in the incarnation, demonstrate the faithfulness and righteousness of the whole-ly God whom we can count on to trust intimately in reciprocal relational process. This reciprocal response composes the primary relational work (sing.) of trusting him whom God has sent (Jn 6:29). As we go up and down, in and out in our ptochos and pentheo, the initial relational experiences of God’s family love rightfully conclude with only one understanding of our person. This understanding forms the core function of the redefined self, the new identity of those transformed in Christ.

In the interrelated vital steps involved in this process of self-understanding, Jesus defined the core function forming the identity of his followers: “the meek” (praus, v.5). While the sense of meekness should not be separated from ptochos, praus (prautes, noun) denotes to be gentle—that is, not hard or resistant to live as one truly is. Praus involves heart function conjoined with overt behavior to demonstrate what and who one is from inner out. Contrary to most perceptions of “meek,” this function is not timid weakness but humble strength and truth of character based on one’s true condition (cf. David in Ps 51:16-17). How this specifically would be demonstrated or expressed can be defined best by the various behaviors of Jesus with others (see Mt 11:29). Whatever its form in a particular situation, the most significant issue is that there is no lie or illusion about one’s person in being meek (including being humble). In this core function, ontological humility becomes experiential truth and relational reality.

Yet, meekness is not a mere characteristic of the Christian person by which to be defined and thus to behave, for example, as an identity marker. Though commonly seen and practiced in this way, this only simulates humility from outer in. Rather, most importantly for the whole person, it is a function of relationship both with God and with others. Being meek is a core function in relationship with God for two reasons, which are requisite for discipleship:

1. With no illusions about self-determination and self-justification (ptochos) and with response to one’s pentheo, the only basis and ongoing functional base for the person’s life and practice is the whole of God’s relational work of grace—the depth of relational significance composing sola gratia.

2. On this basis, relationship together is only on God’s terms, hence irreducible and nonnegotiable by human persons.

God does not work by any human agenda, notably for self-determination and self-justification. Being meek is this core function involving the relational process of turning away from the falsehood in self-autonomy and entrusting one’s whole person to the grace of God—the depth of relational significance composing sola fide. This relational response is basic not only for conversion but for ongoing sanctification, yet not on the basis of unilateral relationship controlled by God but only for reciprocal relationship (discussed further in Chap. 5).

Furthermore, who and what this meek-humble person is and how this person functions also must by nature be involved in relationship with others in two qualitatively distinguished ways:

1. With God’s grace as the basis for the person, there is no basis for comparison with others, for climbing any human ladder or one-upmanship, and accordingly no basis for stratified relationships that reduce the whole person to fragmentary distinctions, but rather a qualitative loving involvement with others (without employing reductionist distinctions) in the relationships necessary for wholeness.

2. Accordingly, this relational involvement allows no basis for the function of individualism, which gives priority to the individual agenda and reduces the primacy of the intimate relationships together necessary to be God’s whole family.

Praus, therefore, is the clear function only of ontological humility, relational humility as well as epistemic humility (cf. Paul’s critique of the church, 1 Cor 4:7; 8:1-2).

Meekness is a direct relational outcome of the first two irreplaceable steps (Beatitudes) that define the ontology of our persons and determine the above functions of relationships. There is no theological or functional basis for any other self-assessment, regardless of how much one does, has or accomplishes. Yet, we encounter difficulty when lies (e.g. alternative facts) or illusions (e.g. alternative or virtual realities) keep us from facing our ptochos or experiencing our pentheo. In strong contrast, being meek also signifies a functional admission of one’s enslavement—that is, not being free from some form of self-sufficiency (even in a collective context), self-determination (even with a theology of grace), or self-centeredness (even in acts of service)—and one’s need for the gospel’s redemptive change of the old dying and the new rising. Obviously, if anyone cannot admit their limits and constraints, they would not acknowledge their need to change. The status quo in theology and practice reflects this bias and thus denial.

Jesus said the meek “will inherit the earth.” This is not a result of what they do but only a relational outcome constituted in relationship with Jesus and by his relational work of grace with the relational outcome of belonging to God’s family. These Beatitudes have roots in the promise from the OT covenant, yet Jesus was not taking us back into that context but extending and fulfilling God’s relational response to our human relational condition. The meek's inheritance is not the earth per se (or land, cf. Ps 37:11), with a sense of redistribution for the poor and dispossessed. This inheritance is not about a place, situations or circumstances. This is about the distinguished context of God’s whole and dwelling, the relational context in which their inheritance is the whole-ly God for relationship—just as it was for the OT priests and Levites (Nu 18:20, Dt 10:9). The meek (as the poor in spirit, and so forth) are “blessed” (makarioi), that is, fully satisfied, because God is vulnerably present and intimately involved in their life—the relational outcome of God’s definitive blessing (Num 6:24-26). Therefore, this is about well-being and wholeness experienced as the relational outcome of God’s covenant love and faithfulness, of Jesus’ vulnerable grace and truth (Jn 1:14), that is, as with the Trinity who is intimately involved together in their “spirit and truth”—nothing less and no substitutes. This blessed relational condition cannot be reduced merely to happiness about one’s situation and circumstances; everyday life is not reduced to our situations and circumstances. In this redefinition of self, the irreducible importance of our whole person (from inner out) and the nonnegotiable priority of intimate relationship together become the perceptual-interpretive framework for what we pay attention to. And the full relational significance of being makarioi is the ongoing relational outcome of these and the rest of the Beatitudes in the integral process of the new creation’s identity formation.

As Jesus’ call unfolds ongoingly in the integral relational process of his disciples’ identity formation, his call also converges deeper into the relational context and process that unexpectedly, yet not unhoped for, distinguishes his intimate reciprocal relationship with his followers.

There is an irreversible relational progression that distinguishes the unique discipleship composed by Jesus’ call (to be discussed further in the next chap.), which goes beyond and is set apart from the diverse discipleship existing today. Contrary to prevailing perceptions on serving (and/or sacrifice), Jesus declares resoundingly: “I do not call you servants any longer…but I have called you friends, because I have intimately shared with you everything that I have intimately received from my Father” (Jn 15:15). Is this just information that Jesus points to and highlights here, composing merely good news for our consumption, such as referential language transmits? Or does this relational disclosure involve us in the depth of reciprocal relationship with Jesus that is distinguished clearly by intimacy? Or perhaps Jesus’ words are interpreted as the former in order to avoid the latter.

As Jesus disclosed earlier about the strategic shift of God’s relational response and the intimate connection the Father seeks with us (“in spirit and truth,” Jn 4:23-24), intimacy is defined by God’s relational terms as hearts vulnerably open to one another and coming together in reciprocal relationship. This is the depth of involvement that Jesus enacted with his friends, which is likely distinctly different than the common practice among friends today (e.g. prominently as seen in the Western world and as prevails on social media).

Friendship in the ancient world was not loosely defined, as we experience it in the modern West and globally on the Internet. Though there were different kinds of friends, the four main characteristics of friendship involved: (1) loyalty (commitment), (2) equality, (3) mutual sharing of all possessions, and (4) an intimacy together in which a friend could share anything or everything in confidence.^{^[1]} A good servant (or slave) would experience (1). Good friends in the Western world today would certainly experience (2), hopefully (1), and less and less likely (4), but rarely (3). Modern perspectives tend to devalue (4) and magnify (1) and (2). Though his disciples never had (2) with Jesus, they experienced the others with him; Jesus demonstrated the first (Jn 15:13), the third (Jn 15:9,11; 16:14-15) and the fourth (Jn 15:15; 16:12-13), with (4) notably signifying the nature of their relationship as Jesus shared above. As noted earlier, the disciples were inconsistent with (4) in their response, with Peter apparently the most open to share.

The movement from disciple and servant to friend in the relational progression, however, is only a function of relationship together in its primacy. It is not an outcome from sharing time and space, activity or work together, though it certainly involves these as secondary to the primacy of relationship. Table fellowship between Jesus and his disciples signified the function of intimate relationship together in which everything could be shared—notably demonstrated in their last table fellowship together. This was not about sharing merely personal information but sharing one’s whole person. This relational involvement cannot be reduced to an activity, or shared time and space, notably at the Communion table. Without the vulnerable presence of the whole person and the intimate relational involvement, there was no relational significance to whatever they did—including worship and proclaiming the gospel. Jesus did not want mere loyal disciples and servants but friends to share intimate relationship together; he was vulnerably present and intimately involved “to seek and to save” persons for this relational progression to the whole-ly Trinity. This relational process necessitates the intimate relational function of friends, nothing less and no substitutes.

As relationally significant as the intimate bond between friends is, the convergence of Jesus’ call does not conclude in friendship—with “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” not without merit. If reciprocal relationship together as his disciples ends here, we are no longer following Jesus on his relational path because friends together is not what he saves us to.

The experiential truth that Jesus saves us from sin only becomes a relational reality when it includes a two-fold relational outcome: (1) That we are saved from sin as reductionism (as emerged from the primordial garden) and its counter-relational workings, which has reduced our ontology and function; and (2) when we are saved from reductionism and reduced ontology and function, the only outcome that can unfold is then to be integrally saved to wholeness in our ontology and function. Without being saved to wholeness, we have not been saved from our sin of reductionism. The experiential truth of this theology (soteriology) only becomes an experiential reality when the significance of its relational outcome distinguishes the whole of who, what and how we are in reciprocal relationship with Jesus.

Therefore, though the function of friends is necessary in the relational progression, it is insufficient for the relationship necessary together to make us whole—that is, relational together in likeness of the integral relationship constituting the Trinity, the only outcome of what Jesus saves us to. The relational progression does not conclude in friendship with Jesus, which has become another contemporary misperception of Jesus shaped by the prevailing influence of reductionism to define our life and practice. In Jesus’ tactical shift demonstrated with Zacchaeus for his involvement in the relational progression (Lk 19:1-10), Jesus alluded to both what we are saved to, and thus the relationship necessary to be whole.

Their relationship together went further than the friendship of table fellowship, and their relational involvement went deeper into the relational progression. Though Zacchaeus’ salvation was not “because” of ancestry with Abraham, there was essentially relational connection as “a son of Abraham,” as Jesus declared (Lk 19:9)—pointing to vital connection with Abraham’s wholeness in faith (as Paul’s would later emerge). That is, “to the degree that” (kathoti) Zacchaeus’ whole person from inner out—the shift Zacchaeus also made to be compatible with Jesus—was intimately involved with Jesus on the basis of God’s relational response of grace, Jesus redeemed him from the outer in of the old (of the common’s function) and transformed him in the innermost to the new as a son belonging in the family of God represented by Abraham. Therefore in their intimate involvement together Face to face, Zacchaeus was constituted in Jesus’ very own relational context, the whole of God’s trinitarian relational context of family by the trinitarian relational process of family love. In other words, the Son’s Father would also become Zacchaeus’ Father and they would effectively be brothers, the relational outcome Jesus indicated after the resurrection (Jn 20:17, cf. Mt 12:50). This was what Zacchaeus was saved to, and this was the relationship necessary by nature to make him whole in the innermost together in God’s whole—the relational progression to the whole of God, the Trinity irreducibly as family.

Belonging to God’s family is both a position and a function. As a position, belonging cannot be experienced by a servant (or a slave, cf. rich young ruler’s error)—nor even by a disciple without full involvement in the relational progression—but only by a son or daughter as God’s very own. As a function, belonging cannot be fulfilled by a disciple (even as friend), no matter how dedicated to serving or devoted to Jesus. Disciple and servant in effect become roles to occupy that are fulfilled by role players, that is, when involvement in the relational progression is not fully engaged. Belonging is only a relational function of those in reciprocal relationship together with the Trinity in the position as God’s very own family. This is the relational outcome that intruded on the persons of Zacchaeus and Levi.

The call of Jesus emerges, unfolds, converges and has the relational outcome of only one, sole, irreducible and nonnegotiable purpose: to be whole. His chosen disciples and their discipleship are distinguished in the relational significance of nothing less and no substitutes.

The ongoing involvement in the primacy of reciprocal relationship together is a continuous challenge for Jesus’ followers. If you are as I am, I have to consciously work on not being distracted from this relational involvement. Whether in theology or practice, it is common for Christians to become preoccupied with secondary matters (not necessarily unimportant) at the expense of this primacy. The experiential truth and relational reality we have consistently failed to grasp are that we cannot conflate the secondary in our life with the primary in God’s life and still experience the significance of relationship together. Perhaps this is most evident today in the context of modern worship, notably with the augmented reality used to enhance our worship experience.

What we need to learn and mature in is following Jesus with this relational imperative: To always integrate the secondary into the primary—not the converse, and also not to equate them—in order for our everyday, ongoing involvement to be in the primacy of reciprocal relationship together on God’s whole relational terms. “Where are you?” and “What are you doing here?” continuously face us with this challenge, so that in our discipleship we will not be faced with “Don’t you know my whole person yet, after all this time as my disciples?”

The NT provides narratives of various disciples who struggle with this challenge (as noted above for Peter). There is one disciple in particular whose discipleship provides a defining narrative of the relational significance of being involved in face-to-face reciprocal relationship together with Jesus—whom Jesus magnifies to distinguish the good news for all his disciples.

This defining narrative begins with a pivotal interaction Jesus had with some of his devoted followers. This interaction demonstrates how imperative it is for disciples to integrate their secondary involvements into the primary of their reciprocal involvement with Jesus, and thus not to allow their discipleship to be distracted, occupied, defined, shaped, preoccupied and determined by anything less or any substitutes. Since this diversion is a common practice among Christians, it is indispensable for all Christians to integrate the secondary into the primary by ongoingly engaging the process of integrating priorities (PIP).

In human life and practice, including for most Christians, the surrounding context (namely culture) commonly establishes the priorities of what is important, thus what should receive our primary attention. To the extent that our identity (even as disciples) is shaped and our function (even in discipleship) is determined subtly by these priorities, we have to recognize that we are products of our context and times—and are not engaging in PIP. This subtle defining dynamic became a source of contention between two of Jesus’ close followers (sisters Martha and Mary, Lk 10:38-42), whom he loved along with their brother Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:5).

When defined by what they do, these sisters are commonly characterized as different types: Martha oriented to a life of activity and service, while Mary by a life of contemplation and worship. We get a deeper and different understanding of their persons as Jesus interacts with them face to face in relationship. How they functioned in relationship together reveals where they truly are, and also deepens our understanding of the relational significance of Jesus’ whole ontology and function.

Their first interaction takes place because “Martha welcomed Jesus into her home” with his disciples during his later Judean ministry (Lk 10:38-42). The term for “welcomed him” (hypodechomai) denotes a distinct act of caring for them by Martha, which she apparently initiated; also, identifying it as “her home” is unusual when there is a male in the family. Her hospitable and kind action was no doubt well received by this likely tired and hungry group, and could easily have been the basis for significant fellowship. But fellowship is a context in which the function of relationship is critical. Martha certainly cannot be faulted for what she did (practicing hospitality and serving Jesus), yet she needs to be critiqued for how she did those deeds, and thus the nature of her discipleship. The crucial implication of the definitive context to which Jesus connected this family involves not just any kind of relationship.

For persons like Martha, thinking relationally is always more difficult when the surrounding context defines persons in fixed roles and confines them to the performance of those roles. The non-fluid nature of their sociocultural context made individuality outside those roles an aberration; consequently the norm not only constrained the person but also limited (intentionally or inadvertently) the level of involvement in relationships. These barriers made the function of relationship critical for Martha since she was a product of her times—something we all can identify with in one way or another.

The person Martha presented to Jesus was based on her role and what she did, which she seemed to perform well. By defining herself in this way, she focused quite naturally on her main priority of all the hospitable work (diakonia) to be done, that is, her service or ministry (diakoneo, Lk 10:40). This work, on the one hand, was culturally hers to do while, on the other hand, it was an opportunity for her to serve Jesus. Yet, defining her person by what she did and the role she had also determined what she paid attention to and ignored (using the lens from her perceptual-interpretive framework) in others, and thus how she did relationships with them—the prevailing bias that predisposes all of us. More specifically, Martha stayed within the limits of her role in relationship with Jesus, whom she related to based on his role, all as determined by her local context. In other words, Martha did not engage Jesus and connect with him in the quality of relationship made accessible to her from his larger and thus primary context. Given her terms for discipleship, a controversy emerged as Martha enacted her discipleship of serving. She created the controversy with her terms, which she imposed on Jesus to center on for what’s primary: “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving by myself? Call her then to help me” (10:40).

In a totally unexpected way, not only to Martha but also to the other twelve disciples with Jesus, Mary chose to follow Jesus on his intrusive relational path for the primacy of relationship together: “Mary has chosen the primary” (10:42) and she “sat vulnerably involved at the Lord’s feet and listened carefully to what he was saying” (10:39). Perhaps for us today this seems reasonably the right thing to do, but it was shocking in her time. Her dynamics even for today are extraordinary; that is, Mary engaged in uncommon function that went beyond both what was common in her surrounding context and what was common in the other disciples’ function. Past or present, Jesus’ disciples are not distinguished until their function is uncommon from the common in their everyday life (discussed further in Chap. 5).

Mary’s choice was not a simple one to make. She cannot be characterized merely as a different personality type from Martha, which predisposed her to extend herself to make better connection with Jesus. In these two interactions Martha actually demonstrates more initiative than Mary. They also were both constrained by their sociocultural context to the same fixed role. Mary had neither the privilege of an optional role nor could she be an exception. This is the reason Martha legitimately expected Mary to be like her, and why she tried to manipulate Jesus (“Lord, don’t you care…”) to make Mary fulfill her role (Lk 10:40). What was culturally hers to do was culturally also Mary’s.

Moreover, household roles and expectations were only part of the pressure Mary faced in her surrounding context. Mary seemed to ignore the work (diakoneo) that was culturally hers to do and chose instead to engage Jesus in a manner not customarily available to women. That is, she also goes against the religious culture by sitting at Jesus’ feet in order to be taught by the Rabbi (Lk 10:39); this is a privileged place forbidden for women and reserved only for men, particularly disciples (note also, that serious disciples usually were training for leadership). This takes place during an important period in Jesus’ ministry when he has intensified his private teaching of his disciples in preparation of their forthcoming leadership. Imagine then what his disciples thought (or even said in protest) when Mary sat next to them. Surely, at least, some must have said to themselves: “What is this woman doing? Who does she think she is?” On the other hand, if they accepted her actions, her person would have been defined at the bottom of their comparative scale—as the least among them since these disciples were concerned about “who was the greatest” (Mk 9:34; Lk 22:24).

Yet, Mary is willing to risk ridicule and rejection (even by Jesus) by going beyond any religio-cultural constraints in order to pursue the person Jesus. She effectively doesn’t allow reductionism to control her life and merely do what is expected and comfortable—that is, to diminish her person and limit her relational involvement. By her uncommon choice, she clearly acts only on what is important and necessary: the whole person in the function of intimate relationship together. Jesus fully receives her person for this relationship and, in openly doing so, teaches his disciples not only a lesson on the relationship-specific priority of discipleship but also on the relationship-specific function of leadership—lessons noticeably absent in theological education today.

At this pivotal point in the tension and controversy, Jesus both clarifies the issue and corrects the practice of discipleship: “You are concerned and preoccupied by many secondary things, but only the primary is needed for whole disciples and discipleship”—the primacy of relationship together in face-to-face intimate involvement—and “Mary has chosen what is primary over the secondary, and it will not be taken away from her” (10:41-42, NIV). Not only will the primacy of intimate relationship together be neither taken away nor reduced, but with face-to-face involvement the relationship will grow more deeply together. This experiential truth and relational reality will unfold as the narrative continues.

As we follow the narrative of these disciples, it would be helpful to pause and consider which of them has received and is responding to the gospel. The most intrusive outcome of the gospel is the change it brings to persons and relationships. How much change it brings is directly correlated to how deep the gospel penetrates our persons and relationships. We commonly make assumptions about the gospel in our theology and practice, which bias how we see others theology and practice; and such assumptions with their biases are active in the diverse discipleship enacted in this total narrative. The gospel of God’s whole face is vulnerably present and relationally involved; and the specific Jesus that disciples use will be whom they follow in their discipleship.

Since the person Martha presented to Jesus was based on her role and what she did in performing it, Martha didn’t connect with Jesus in the depth of relationship made accessible to her from the primary relational context of Jesus’ vulnerable presence and involvement with her—that is, in his intrusive relational path of the gospel. Since the gospel didn’t change her limits and constraints, this person and her relationship with Jesus can be seen clearly in their second interaction when Lazarus died (Jn 11:1-40).

In this second interaction Martha quickly extends herself again to Jesus when her brother died (Jn 11:21); she appears not to lack in initiative. Her opening words to Jesus are exactly the same words (see Greek text) Mary would share with him in their encounter moments later: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (v.21, Mary in v.32). Yet, while expressing her discouragement and seemingly holding Jesus accountable, in the same breath she qualifies her words with an indirect statement based on her assumption: “But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him” (v.22). Whether she was suggesting or requesting that Jesus do something, her indirectness was probably true to cultural form by not asking Jesus (Master, Teacher) for a favor directly. Furthermore, Martha stayed within the limits (functional barriers) of relationship between men/rabbi and women. Her indirectness evokes from Jesus a simple yet personal response of what will happen: “Your brother will rise again” (v.23), implying his relational involvement with them. Since Jesus had already taught about the future resurrection from the dead (Jn 5:28-29; 6:39-40), Martha must have learned that lesson as referential information earlier for her theology, making reference to it here (v.24)—another assumption shaping her person and relationship These words by Martha are what a good student would be expected to say. On the surface of Jesus’ response, he then seems to take her on a short theological exercise, yet he is really trying to make deeper relational connection with her at the vulnerable level of her heart—“believes in me,” the intimate relational work of trust (vv.25-26). Martha responds with a clear confession of faith (v.27) but without the intimate relational connection with the whole person of her faith, who is kept at a relational distance as she goes back to call Mary. Later, even her confession is called into question, as she is tested relationally by reductionism: the fact of the situation vs. the person of her faith (vv.39-40).

Consciously or not, Martha struggles with the shaping influence of her surrounding context, and this indicates the extent to which the gospel has penetrated her life. The priorities of Martha’s local context limited her identity to provincial terms from outer in and consequently constrained her person from being able to function from inner out and to engage Jesus accordingly—that is, both compatible and vulnerable to his person. How Martha was defined by her sociocultural context also determined the function of her person, which predisposed her to Jesus and biased how she did relationship with him. As a product of human contextualization, she shaped the relationship together with Jesus. With this cultural-perceptual framework, she paid attention to Jesus primarily in his role as Lord and Teacher but overlooked his whole person in this interaction; she concentrated on serving Jesus but ignored being relationally involved with him, as evidenced in the first interaction. Consequently, she neither exercises her whole person from inner out nor experiences her whole person with Jesus in the primary function of relationship imperative for his followers, which Jesus later made paradigmatic (Jn 12:26). As a substitute for what is primary, Martha occupies herself in what is secondary—not necessarily unimportant (as hospitality and serving Jesus evidence) yet clearly secondary to what is primary.

The primacy of relationship is inseparable from discipleship as defined and determined by Jesus, especially for those who are committed to serve him (Jn 12:26). This necessarily involves the call to be redefined from outer in to inner out, transformed from reductionism and made whole in relationship together—in other words, the gospel of transformation to wholeness.[2] For Martha, who shaped relationship together as a hospitable servant of Jesus, this implied her need for redemptive change. Though she took a small step to connect initially with Jesus in their second interaction, she needed to be redeemed (set free) to be involved in the primacy of whole relationship together with Jesus as Mary was.

With all her dedication and good intentions, Martha essentially related to and served Jesus with reductionist substitutes and practices. In terms of how she related to Jesus under the influence of reductionism, what she paid attention to and ignored about both her person as well as Jesus’ person, including about their relationship, Martha inadvertently functioned to reinforce counter-relational work. Such practice takes place all too commonly among God’s people, even while serving Jesus. This raises the concern about what it means to serve him and a pervasive issue we readily practice when serving Jesus: defining ourselves by serving, and thus being focused primarily on the work to be done while guided by a servant model. Jesus says “whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be” (Jn 12:26). In these unalterable relational words he communicates a necessary condition to serve him is to follow him and be where he is; that is, as discussed earlier, this is the function of relationship in ongoing intimate involvement with his whole person. Serving does not come first to define what it means to follow Jesus. The word “to serve” (diakoneo) comes from the word for minister, servant, deacon (diakonos) and has the emphasis on the work to be done, not on the relationship between Lord and servant. This transposes the primacy of relationship to a secondary priority based on defining human persons by reduced ontology and function.

This is a vital distinction for all his followers. Because in defining what is necessary to serve him, Jesus is also clearly definitive about what is insufficient to serve him: to focus primarily on the work to be done, or on related situations and circumstances, no matter how dedicated we are or how good our intentions. Jesus did not discount the particular service Martha was doing but how she engaged it. How we serve is just as important as whether we serve or not. Therefore, any reductionist substitutes and practices for serving him are not an option. For all his followers, Jesus makes paradigmatic for serving and imperative for discipleship: the function of intimate relationship together as the primary priority—which is not understood in John 12:26 by referential language but only in the relational language of Jesus’ relational messages about (1) his person, (2) our person, and (3) our relationship.

Mary’s discipleship emerged in this primacy and continues to grow in the depth of her involvement with Jesus. Her whole person functioning in intimate relationship with Jesus is even more evident as we see them in further interactions. Returning to Lazarus’ death and their second interaction, Mary quickly goes out to meet “the Teacher” who has asked for her (Jn 11:28-29). When she sees him she says the same opening words as Martha earlier (vv.32,21). These are her only spoken words, but not all she communicates to Jesus. When she sees him, “she fell at his feet” (v.32) and says the above while “weeping” (v.33a). Mary makes her whole person vulnerable and fully shares her heart (likely including some anger) with Jesus, which Martha doesn’t seem to do even with the same words. This points to the non-verbal relational messages qualifying their words that Mary communicates profoundly with Jesus, thus deeply moving his heart to make intimate connection with Mary (vv.33b,35,38). In those relational messages about her person, Jesus’ person and their relationship, Mary vulnerably opened her person from inner out, withholding nothing (even the negative) from Jesus, and simply laid her person bare before his person whether it was appropriate or not. This was not a time to be restrained or to be measured in her relational involvement in any way, but for their persons to make deep intimate connection. In these moments, she experiences her Teacher (didaskolos) more deeply and came to know him as never before—the relational outcome of intimate friends. Their intimate connection is qualitatively distinct from the connection between Martha and Jesus moments earlier. This is the relational outcome in redeemed relationship of the whole person functioning in intimate involvement together. This relational outcome is what Jesus saves and calls his disciples to.

The difference between Mary and Martha that unfolds in this defining narrative cannot be explained as the natural diversity among Jesus’ disciples. That would assume a God-given diversity, which would be contrary to the disciples chosen by God and counter the relational significance of Jesus’ call. Such so-called natural diversity, therefore, has opened the hermeneutic door to the diverse condition of existing disciples and their discipleship, the diversity of which reflects fragmentary persons and relationships in reduced ontology and function rather than signifying the change of the gospel reflecting the wholeness of God. Once again, how much change the gospel brings hinges on how deep the gospel is allowed to penetrate our persons and relationships, and that’s why these interactions are pivotal.

Up to now the twelve disciples appear to be innocent bystanders in this defining narrative. A more accurate description, however, would identify the relational distance that the Twelve maintained during these interactions—in measured involvement characterizing their ongoing discipleship—likely to avoid their own discomfort with the relational issues involved. That is about to change in the next interaction the two sisters had with Jesus.

Martha continued to be conflicted in her discipleship, still remaining in the limits and constraints defining her person and determining her relationships. In their last time together at another dinner given in Jesus’ honor, Martha continued to stay in her traditional place among the women to serve, even though the dinner was not in her home (Mk 14:3; Jn 12:2). Whether she was still occupied by the secondary is not clear; but she did not complain about Mary not serving, who was now even more uncommonly distinguished face to Face with Jesus in the primacy of relationship (Jn 12:3; Mk 14:6).

As further evidence of Mary’s continued growth in the primary of relational involvement with Jesus, this narrative keeps unfolding in defining relational terms. Mary deepens her intimate connection with Jesus in a third interaction, which illuminates an immeasurable depth of how vulnerable her whole person is made to Jesus’ whole person (Jn 12:1-8, par. Mt 26:6-13; Mk 14:3-9). We need to pay attention to the growth of her involvement as a distinguished disciple sitting at Jesus’ feet with attentive listening of her whole person, to going beyond this level of involvement to the deepest relational connection imaginable with Jesus’ whole person—beyond even the level of intimate friends in their second interaction. To enact this involvement Mary again makes another difficult choice. As she cleaned Jesus’ feet, Mary’s action might be considered customary for guests to have their feet washed at table fellowship; if this all it were, Jesus would not have magnified it (Mk 14:9). With the cost of the perfume (worth “a year’s wages,” v.5, NIV) added to her decision, she again acts contrary to prevailing cultural form and practice to literally let her hair down to intimately connect with Jesus—inappropriate conduct for both of them—and humbly with love attend to his needs. Mary is engaged in the deepest relational work of a disciple, which Jesus defines clearly for his disciples as “a beautiful (kalos, in quality and character) thing (ergon, work of her vocation) to me” (v.6; Mt 26:10, parallel account) because her action unfolds in the primacy of relationship.

Mary’s whole person from inner out, in distinct person-consciousness (not centered in self-consciousness) with its lens of qualitative sensitivity and relational awareness, perceives Jesus’ whole person without distinctions of “Teacher and Lord” (cf. Jn 13:13)—which also demonstrated her syniemi, synesis, and epignosis of God’s whole presence (as Paul clarified for the church, Col 2:2-4). Not restrained by self-consciousness (as many of us are) her whole person thereby responds to his innermost person (cf. Jn 12:27; Mt 26:37-38). In this relational context and process with Jesus, the whole of Mary’s person from inner out, without the human distinction of gender and the secondary distinction of disciple, steps forth. Yet, her whole person could not be celebrated until she broke through the constraints of this dominant distinction and went beyond the limits of this secondary distinction in order to shift from self-consciousness to person-consciousness. Once again, her person further acts contrary to prevailing cultural form and practice to literally let her hair down to intimately connect with Jesus—inappropriate conduct for both of them that necessarily distinguishes the whole gospel’s relational outcome and Jesus’ call to be whole and live whole together.

Mary’s action demonstrated the most relationally significant practice of diakoneo, in which she served Jesus while intimately involved with his person more than ever before. She gave her person to Jesus, and Jesus not only received her person but also received from her person. This continued to contrast with Martha’s diakoneo (Jn 12:2), though not to diminish that kind of service. Yet, we need to understand the ongoing choice of function involved here.

The ongoing uncommon choice of how she was going to function was pivotal for Mary, as it is for all of Jesus’ disciples. Mary grew further in her person and experienced more of this relational outcome, because she would not allow the counter-relational work of reductionism to prevent her—which is the common influence among Christians—from this opportunity to make intimate connection with Jesus face to face. Without the restraints of reductionism on her heart, she seized the opportunity of the vulnerable presence of Jesus’ whole person (as he said, “you will not always have me,” 12:8).

Love functions this way, it always makes the person and the relationship most important—regardless of the need and work to be done. That’s why Jesus made it definitive: “I desire the relational involvement of love, not sacrifice,” which was all need to learn (Mt 9:13). This is how Jesus functions with us and how he wants us to follow him and be with him. Thus, once again, the accessible Jesus not only received Mary’s person for intimate connection in the priority of their relationship, but he also clearly makes this relational process more important than even ministry to the poor—though not reducing this ministry to outer-in serving because this involvement like Mary’s is how poor persons (among others, including Jesus) need to be served. Apart from Judas Iscariot’s motives (Jn 12:4-6), this was important to learn for the disciples who tried to reprioritize Mary’s act (Mt 26:8-9).

It was critical for Mary to embrace person-consciousness of her whole person over a pervasive self-consciousness of merely parts of her, and to engage its lens of inner out instead of a prevailing outer-in lens in order to affirm personness (not self or the individual) and celebrate whole ontology and function. Equally important, this was necessary for her own person to live whole and thus be able to perceive and respond to Jesus’ whole person without distinctions—those barriers preventing intimate relational connection. If Mary doesn’t embrace personness and celebrate her whole person, she doesn’t embrace the innermost of Jesus and celebrate his whole person defined beyond those parts of what he does (even on the cross) and what he has (even as God). In other words, without Mary’s conscious action in personness this interaction cannot unfold with the significance of the whole relational outcome distinguishing the gospel, that is, only the gospel of transformation to wholeness.

The common choice of function the twelve disciples made was not only contrary to but in conflict with Mary’s uncommon choice. The choice of her function signified the change of the gospel that penetrated, encompassed and integrated her whole person and relationships, the change which had yet to become an experiential reality for the other disciples.

In spite of the experiential truth of the gospel unfolding, the other disciples object to such involvement together since they are focused on the outer in of self-consciousness, which gives priority to the secondary of servant discipleship over the primacy of relationship together (Mk 14:4-5). There is no celebration for them, only the obligation of duty (serving the poor, cf. “fast and pray” at the first new wine table fellowship, Lk 5:33-39). Even the taste of new wine is only a memory for them, as Jesus’ whole person is overlooked (notably at this critical point) and rendered secondary to serving (Mk 14:7, cf. Lk 5:34). Jesus’ rebuttal in relational language is revealing and magnifying.

Jesus stops his other disciples from harassing her and defines clearly for them that Mary is engaged in “a beautiful thing to me” (Mk 14:6, NIV). It is misleading, if not inaccurate, to render Jesus’ words “performed a good service for me” (NRSV). Jesus is not speaking in referential language focused on the secondary of servant discipleship. “Beautiful” (kalos, quality) and “thing” (ergon, work of vocation or calling) signify the quality of Mary’s work. Yet, what is this work that Jesus deeply received and the other disciples rejected? First, Mary was not focused on the quantitative from outer in and thus not in self-consciousness about breaking cultural form or the expense of the perfume. Nor was she concerned about performing a good service. Her person-consciousness was focused on the qualitative from inner out, thereby focused on the whole person and the primacy of relationships. Her “beautiful thing” involved the quality of her relational work, which she engaged vulnerably and intimately not for Jesus or even to him but directly with the whole of Jesus in reciprocal relationship Face to face to Face.

As Mary celebrates the whole person (both hers and Jesus’) without outer-in distinctions, she involved her person with Jesus’ in what truly signifies being “naked and without shame” (as originally created, Gen 2:25), that is to say, vulnerable and intimate without the relational distance and barriers signifying the self-consciousness of “naked and covering up” (and related face-masks, as substitutes for being whole, Gen 3:7). Mary celebrates being “naked and without shame” in the relationship together constituted in the beginning, fragmented from the beginning and now being reconstituted to wholeness. This celebration is not just a further taste of the new wine fellowship composed by Jesus but the celebration of its flow shared vulnerably and intimately as family together, the new creation family ‘already’ (Jn 14:18,23; 17:21-23). Therefore, the significance of her involvement and Jesus’ response must be paid attention to because it initiates this relational outcome of new relationship together in wholeness without the veil—the veil (the holy partition) that Jesus is soon to remove to constitute God’s new creation family from inner out without distinctions (2 Cor 3:16-18; Eph 2:14-22; Gal 3:26-28; 6:15; Col 3:10-11). And even though the theology had yet to be formulated for Mary, its functional significance was whole-ly embodied by her.

Mary’s significance unfolds as she (1) celebrated Jesus calling her to personness, and (2) celebrated the relational work of her primary vocation with the qualitative depth of her whole person without distinctions, in reciprocal response to Jesus’ whole person for the primacy of relationship together in wholeness without the veil, in order to (3) be vulnerable and intimately involved with the whole and uncommon God to celebrate life together in God’s whole family—and therefore fulfilling the challenge of the whole profile of God’s Face and for the face of our compatible response and congruent involvement in nothing less and no substitutes of Face-to-face-to-Face relationship together.

Mary’s whole theology and practice illuminate the keys for celebrating God’s whole. Her qualitative hermeneutic lens, her heart in the innermost of ontology, and her function from inner out were the keys both to engage God’s relationship-specific context and to be involved in God’s relationship-specific process necessary to celebrate the whole person without distinctions, new relationship without the veil to be whole together, and the whole and uncommon God in vulnerable and intimate reciprocal relationship Face to face to Face—all with nothing less and no substitutes. Her person-consciousness with qualitative sensitivity and relational awareness in the primacy of relationship together was distinguished from the other disciples’ self-consciousness engaged in secondary matter over the primary.

The contrast of the disciples in this narrative is, on the one hand, revealing of fragmentary (as in diverse) disciples and discipleship, and, on the other hand, defining for whole disciples and discipleship—both of which are directly correlated to how deep the gospel has penetrated our persons and relationships.

The dynamics of the quality of Mary’s relational work converge to compose the above three-fold celebration. Her relational work provides the hermeneutical, ontological and functional keys to celebrating the whole that emerges solely from the relational outcome of the whole gospel. At this stage, the other disciples are still on a different relational path from Jesus, engaged in a fragmentary gospel while (pre)occupied in a renegotiated calling of self-conscious secondary work. Their lack of qualitative sensitivity and relational awareness, with related relational distance, has an unmistakable relational consequence (Jn 14:9), contrary to the whole-ly God’s vulnerable presence and intimate involvement embodied by Jesus (Jn 17:2-3) and what Jesus prayed to compose his whole family (Jn 17:20-26). Mary’s relational work is integral to constitute persons in reciprocal relationship together as composed by the experiential truth of the whole gospel. On this qualitative relational basis, Jesus magnifies Mary’s person as a key to the significance of the gospel’s relational outcome of new relationship together in wholeness, necessarily in the qualitative image and relational likeness of the Trinity (as Jesus embodied and prayed): “Wherever the whole gospel is proclaimed, claimed and celebrated in the whole world, her whole person’s vulnerable and intimate relational work will be told as a reminder to illuminate the whole ontology and function that necessarily unfolds from the relational outcome of the gospel of transformation to wholeness” (Mk14:9).

This defining narrative provides the whole understanding—the interpretation of syniemi for the full picture—for the integral truth and reality essential to compose our theology and practice in everyday life, with this ongoing understanding: (1) We don’t choose to be Jesus’ disciples but disciples emerge from the gospel’s chosen relational outcome, whether we want it to be or not; (2) however, the disciples we are and the discipleship we engage are contingent on our choice of the gospel we claim and its outcome we embrace, whether we are aware of it or not. These direct, unalterable and thus unavoidable connections define the truth and determine the reality of our persons and relationships. In the competing influence of our surrounding context today, we are faced with if not shaped by post-truth and alternative facts, as well as alternative, augmented and virtual realities. The extent of this influence on our truth and reality will depend on the gospel we use.

Based on the whole relational terms that Jesus embodied in his ontology and function to compose the gospel, and that he made imperative in his call to “Follow me in my whole ontology and function,” Mary is integrally distinguished beyond any other disciples hereby:

1. The experiential reality of Mary’s person is that she embodied the whole ontology and function of the gospel’s full outcome of inner-out change to wholeness.

2. The relational reality of Mary’s everyday life is that she enacted the wholeness of the disciples and discipleship necessary, by the nature of Jesus’ relational terms of “Follow me,” to be intimately involved in reciprocal relationship together face to face—neither indirect nor veiled.

Both her experiential and relational reality integrally distinguished her person and relationships, which are indispensable for all disciples and discipleship to be whole as Jesus called.

Therefore, Mary is defining for all of us who claim the gospel. For this relational outcome to emerge, much less unfold, requires penetrating to the depth of our theological anthropology (the underlying basis defining our persons and determining our relationships) and encompassing the breadth of sin as reductionism (namely its limits and constraints on our persons and relationships). Penetrating and encompassing are required not as a duty or obligation but by the nature of who, what and how we are in truth and the whole of who, what and how we can become in reality—the intrusive relational path of the gospel and its provoking relational outcome.

Mary’s significance is distinguished only in her whole theology and practice, which was constituted only by her whole ontology and function. It is not the name of Mary that Jesus magnifies but her person-consciousness integrally vulnerable and intimate in whole theology and practice, and thus her whole ontology and function integral to her personness transformed by the gospel. Mary is not mentioned in Paul’s letters, but the significance of her whole person—engaged in whole theology and practice as the relational outcome of the gospel that composes the church in new relationship together in wholeness—this whole significance of her person is indeed magnified in functional clarity and theological clarity by Paul. With her whole person assuming the lead, she initiated the relational outcome of the gospel that became the experiential truth of the whole of Paul and the whole in his theology and practice. Jesus into Paul is inseparable from Jesus into Mary.

What unfolded in this defining narrative continues to unfold in the global church today. The contrast between Mary and the others illuminates the conflict between the whole gospel and its reduction, which is the significance of Mary that Jesus magnifies and that Paul fights both for and against. Yet, this significance has not been sufficiently embraced and this fight has not been adequately engaged by the church to celebrate God’s whole. The church’s theological anthropology and view of sin as reductionism are the central issues involved, for which we continue to remain accountable in our theology and practice and must give account in our ontology and function.

Since the incarnation there have been various forms and shapes that discipleship has assumed—as evident even in Jesus’ interactions, notably with Martha and Mary. In “Follow me,” however, following is nonnegotiable to our terms and his person is irreducible in ontology and function. On this integral relational basis, Jesus’ relational imperative for discipleship to be involved ongoingly with his whole person becomes intrusive, penetrating, provoking for our person—and perhaps no longer good news associated with the gospel—because it requires the unmistakable relational connection face to face to distinguish discipleship, as the relational outcome of the whole gospel and thus integral to salvation. On this relational basis, therefore, the face of Mary’s discipleship is illuminated in relationship by Jesus and then magnified by him to distinguish the gospel of transformation to wholeness—also necessarily for defining disciples of whole theology and practice today.

In Jesus’ call for us to be whole, is it not compelling that Mary is the disciple he magnifies to embody this wholeness wherever the gospel is claimed? Moreover, in the diversity of our discipleship, is it not also significant that Mary’s wholeness has not received due attention and been given the defining influence beyond what commonly defines disciples and determines their discipleship, and therefore to have the lead over all other disciples and their discipleship?

The face of God urgently wants to know where we are in our ontology as persons and what we are doing here in our function of “Follow me”: following the diversity of reformation (and its counterparts) or the wholeness of transformation!

[1] Craig S. Keener reports this information on friendship in The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1993), 302.

[2] An expanded discussion of this whole gospel is found in my study The Gospel of Transformation: Distinguishing the Discipleship and Ecclesiology Integral to Salvation (Transformation Study, 2015). Online at http://www.4X12.org.