The Myth of the Non-Disciple
Just about every church claims discipleship as its main “business”. Good.

All activities—sermons and seminars, events and emphases, camps and cell groups, plans and preparations—aim at one outcome: producing a disciple (also called a “mature Christian” or “fruitful harvester”).
But what do we call those who never get there? Someone who never quite reaches the finishing line—even after years?
(Aside: how long does it take to “graduate” as a disciple?)
Perhaps none at all. There is no category for a non-disciple.
No pastor reports “x” disciples and “y” non-disciples. Instead, such individuals are called Visitors, Attenders, “Interested Parties,” or Newcomers—even after months. At best, they are “Members in Good Standing” who simply need to move about a little more (for stagnant water attracts mosquitoes).
Francis Chan would call this person a “lukewarm Christian”—neither hot nor cold. Such a life, he argues, reflects a failure to grasp God’s character. Anyone truly overwhelmed by God’s “crazy, relentless love” will live differently—disruptively, generously, counter-culturally.
Comfortable Christians tend to become consumers rather than servants. They seek benefits, not obligations. WIIFM—what’s in it for me?
So perhaps there is a name after all: comfortable.
They choose convenience over challenge, ease over effort. Like preferring “open-book” exams, they may collaborate for the “right” answers without understanding how they got there.
What lies ahead? A middle-class Christianity that lives as if this world is all there is. A costly mistake. Their gaze settles on immediate pleasures, not the coming Messiah. Yet Christ has gone to prepare a place for us; we ought to prepare ourselves for it. A disciple lives with that horizon in view.
John Piper calls the comfortable life not just dangerous but tragic—a waste of a brief existence. It buys into the wrong question of “successful living,” ignoring Christ’s words: “What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world but lose his own soul?" (Mk 8:36).
God did not create us for safety or comfort as ultimate goals. Piper urges believers to risk reputation, comfort, even safety for eternal value. A life spent avoiding discomfort ultimately misses its purpose: glorifying God.
David Platt captures it in one word: “radical.” Like Paul, he calls believers not to conform to this world but to be transformed by renewed minds shaped by God’s Word.
Both Platt and Chan press for action, not theory. Change is not merely internal; it touches bank accounts, calendars, and lifestyles.
This is the call of discipleship—whole, not partial. Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow Me (Mt 16:24).
The shift away from comfort is rarely gradual. It requires a deliberate “no” to cultural ease, to say “yes” to spiritual demand.
There is a quiet danger that comes not in crisis, but in comfort. Comfort is a gift—but when it becomes our standard for peace, it reshapes our faith. We begin to choose the familiar over the faith-filled, safety over surrender. The walls that shelter us can also confine us. We stop risking for God because we have too much to lose.
“Has my comfort cost me obedience?”
Beware of becoming too comfortable on this earth. The better question is not, “Am I comfortable?” but, “Has my comfort cost me obedience?” If so, it is time to find the door—and walk free.
What's inside this latest issue?
VOL. 50 NO. 5 of IMPACT Magazine
WHEN COMFORT BECOMES AN IDOL

By Darius Lee
THE CROSS VERSUS THE CUSHION
By Lorinne Kon
CHOOSING THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED
... Corné J Bekker
RELIGION AND HAPPINESS
By Lim K Tham
THE BAD BARGAIN... Why your religion can't buy off God
By John Carpenter
FAITH UNCOMFORTABLE
~ Impact Panel Discussion ~
HOW SHOULD WE UNDERSTAND SELF-LOVE?
By A A Kostas
SPEAKING A NEW LANGUAGE
By Nicholas Ho Wei Jie




Comments