“Preaching” doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Pastor” doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Church” doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Household” doesn’t mean what you think it means. “Ministry” doesn’t mean what you think it means.
All of those are perfectly fine biblical words, but in modern English, these words and many others have been radically redefined away from their biblical meaning (“preaching,” “pastor,” and “church”), narrowed to a much smaller scope than their biblical meaning (“ministry”), or very nearly emptied of all meaning whatever (“household”).
So when you say “I’m just reading the verse, man!” — No, you’re not. At least not usually. Usually, you’re imposing the accrued ecclesiastical traditions of the West and the definitions of our post-industrial consumer society on a text that knows absolutely nothing of those things. You’re reading a first-century text with a twenty-first century dictionary, and then pretending that what you hear is what the original authors meant. That’s just not so.
What to do about it? Bridge the contextual gap. Learn what the biblical authors meant by the words that they use, and remember that when you read them. Ask yourself, “What did obedience actually look like for them?” and be sure to flesh that answer out before you start thinking about how to apply the same truths to yourself today.
Much has been said in certain quarters about the sin of empathy. How ought we to think about this?
Back in the seventies and eighties, Francis Schaeffer used to get criticized for oversimplifying the philosophers he spoke about — Hegel, for example. Professional philosophers would complain that Hegel was actually quite a bit more nuanced than Schaeffer was letting on, and not necessarily vulnerable to the criticisms Schaeffer would level against him. I can’t really discuss the validity of the criticism; I’m no expert on Hegel either. But for the sake of discussion, let’s grant that the professionals are right, and Schaeffer really was oversimplifying Hegel.
Where did that oversimplification come from? Was Schaeffer just straw-manning Hegel? No indeed, and here we need to remember Schaeffer’s actual ministry context. He wasn’t ministering to Hegel himself, nor to professional philosophers. Overwhelmingly, he was serving college students. When you’re working with a college sophomore who has misread (and oversimplified) Hegel and thinks he has hold of a profound truth, what’s the task at hand? Do we try to make him a better Hegelian? Or do we just start from where he actually is and minister the gospel to him?
Obviously the latter, which is what Schaeffer did. It might be fair to say that Schaeffer’s treatment isn’t up to dealing with all the nuances of Hegel’s actual views, but it his work deals admirably with Hegel as portrayed in popular culture of the time. He dealt with the actual beliefs of the people in front of him, as well he should.
So when my brothers to the northwest wax eloquent on the sin of empathy, I can see their point. They are not (as we will see) addressing what empathy actually means, but the sin they are expertly skewering is a real sin, it is rampant in our culture, and the people who are committing it often call that sin “empathy.”
Why is it that the popular definition so diverges from the real one? For the same reason that we misuse “depressed,” “triggered,” or “autistic.” Psychotherapy is our culture’s unofficial religion. Religious terms with specific meanings always get debased, usually in a quest to apply a virtuous gloss to whatever the adherent wanted to do anyway. (Hence, for example, one of the most intemperate displays of modern times calling itself the “temperance movement” in the early 20th century. In contemporary usage, someone who’s triggered (the real definition) should be treated with compassion, so people describe themselves as “triggered” when they’re just mad, so as to garner more sympathy than they deserve.) The clergy and theologians — psychotherapists and counselors, in the case before us today — always object: “That’s not what the word means!” But people go on abusing the terms anyway. It’s an unfortunate trend, and clearly psychotherapy is not immune to the term-debasing trend that has long afflicted other religions.
Whether our brothers ought to cede the term “empathy” is a separate question. As it is not a biblical word, they are under no obligation to fight for it if they don’t want to. On the other hand, there’s no sin in fighting for the proper definition, either. Since the actual meaning of empathy is both a biblical concept and a necessary spiritual discipline, that’s what I’m going to do below.
Properly defined, empathy is not a virtue and it is not a vice. It is a tool, like a claw hammer, a chef’s knife, or a handgun. That tool can be used to build or destroy, to nourish or injure, to save life or to kill. So what does the word “empathy” actually mean?
Empathy: n. understanding a person from their frame of reference rather than one’s own, or vicariously experiencing that person’s feelings, perceptions, and thoughts. Empathy does not, of itself, entail motivation to be of assistance, although it may turn into sympathy or personal distress, which may result in action. In psychotherapy, therapist empathy for the client can be a path to comprehension of the client’s cognitions, affects, motivations, or behaviors.
APA Dictionary of Psychology
A seasoned psychotherapist I know put it this way: empathy and compassion are two fundamentally different things. The best con artists have perfect empathy, but zero compassion. They can see the world through your eyes so well that they can manipulate you into giving them everything you have. (See also Chris Voss on “Tactical Empathy.” Click over and just listen to the first minute of the video; he gives a good definition.) So it’s fair to say that seeing things from another person’s point of view is not inevitably a virtue.
On the other hand, some virtues are impossible without it. In Chris Voss’ case, he’s using his ability to see from another’s point of view to rescue hostages from criminals. In a more everyday setting, husbands are commanded to exercise this ability where their wives are concerned: “Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers may not be hindered.” (1 Pet. 3:7)
The Golden Rule requires similar insight. The proverbial young husband who buys his wife a drill for her birthday because that’s what he would want is obviously not applying the Golden Rule correctly. He would like a birthday present that he wants; therefore he should buy her a birthday present that she wants. But he can’t really do that without seeing the world from her point of view, can he?
Empathy is a component of wise love, a necessary but not a sufficient condition. You can’t love another person well if you refuse to see things from their perspective; that way lies well-intentioned cluelessness. Neither can you love love another person well if you get so pulled into their perspective that you fail to exercise sound moral judgment and good sense. You should not believe everything you think or feel; you should not allow empathy to suck you into believing everything someone else thinks or feels either. Discernment and emotionally sober judgment is required: love well, and love wisely.
So what are we to say about the “sin of empathy?” Well, our brothers would defend their position by pointing out that the behavior they are criticizing really is a sinful use of empathy. Yes and amen!!! These same brothers would likewise criticize the sinful use of handguns in murders and robberies, but something tells me we won’t be seeing a book titled The Sin of Handguns from them anytime soon. Why not?
This to say, the phrase “sin of empathy” is clickbait, ragebait, copping a rhetorical pose. I don’t really mean that as a criticism. They’re copping that pose in service of taking down a real sin and making the takedown memorable—excellent work to be doing, and I’m glad they’re doing it. But we shouldn’t pretend that rhetorical pose is anything more than it is. Equal weights and measures, if they mean anything, mean that we can’t pretend anybody who approvingly mentions “empathy” has necessarily endorsed a subchristian morality, any more than we would pretend that somebody who approvingly mentions handguns has necessarily endorsed murder.
Maybe the guy’s just not ignorant of the word’s actual meaning.
One of the basics of good shepherding is to remember what you don’t know. When they say “We had a fight last night,” you don’t know if it was a minor argument, a shouting match, or a physical brawl. You have to ask more questions if you need to find out. But there’s also another key mistake you can make: missing what they are telling you.
Jack and Jill have been dating for a while, and things are starting to turn a bit more serious. Then one day, Jill breaks it off. “I just don’t think we can have a good relationship if we’re not honest with each other,” she says.
Jack is baffled. Over a beer with his buddy Eli, he vents: “I don’t know what she’s talking about! I’ve worked so hard to communicate clearly and listen well! I’ve been as honest as I know how to be! I just don’t get it!”
Eli nods. “She thinks you’re dishonest with each other, but you’ve been honest with her.”
“Yes!” says Jack.
Eli sips his beer and steeples his fingers. “So what does she know that you don’t?”
Obviously, when Jill tells Jack that they’re not being honest with each other, she’s confessing that she hasn’t been honest with him. She thinks it’s mutual; she may be right or she may be projecting. But she’s wildly unlikely to be wrong about herself.
When people say things like this, don’t get so caught up in defending yourself from the embedded accusation that you miss what they’re telling you about themselves.
Framing eschatology as ‘optimistic’ or ‘pessimistic’ is deliberately tactical; it’s a postmil recruiting tool, and a really useful one, too! (At least for Americans; we are an optimistic people.) As an accurate descriptor of anybody’s Christian eschatology, ‘optimistic’ and ‘pessimistic’ are lazy oversimplifications. We are surrounded by pagan eschatologies from Ragnarok to heat death; all Christian eschatologies are wildly optimistic.
When we’re talking about prophecy, I often recommend that we go back and look at prophecy that’s already been fulfilled in order to get our bearings. As a test case for the labels ‘optimistic’ and ‘pessimistic’ within the biblical milieu, let’s consider the first advent. There’s a raft of prophecies that the coming Messiah would conquer and reign; this is what Peter, et al., expected Jesus was going to be about — an optimistic eschatology if ever there was one! There’s also prophecies that the coming Messiah would suffer and die. How pessimistic! But it turns out that both of those things are true, and it didn’t look how anybody expected.
Anyone who thinks that we win in the end, and knowledge of the glory of Yahweh covers the earth like water covers the sea — all those people are expecting victory, and have reason to live like it.
Of course, if you think that victory to be inaccessible now…I wonder. But that’s not a premil/postmil thing; it’s a “Is the Kingdom of God a present reality?” thing.
But that isn’t a package deal with your eschatology. I’m a convinced premil, because as far as I can tell that’s what the Bible says, and I know that the Kingdom is a present reality, because — wait for it — that’s what the Bible says. Jesus wasn’t embarrassed to talk about the Kingdom coming in the present; can’t think why I would be. If the Kingdom came when He cast out a demon, then it’s coming when we cast out a demon. It’s coming when an addiction gets broken. It’s coming every time we face a temptation and say no, and it’s coming every time God gives us an opportunity to serve and we say yes. We pray for it — “Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” — and God is pleased to answer our prayers.
Premillennialism’s critics frequently characterize us as thinking that “we lose now, but we win in the end.” Unfortunately, there are actual premillennialists who really think that. But none of them — neither the shallow premil guys nor our critics — have thought about it deeply enough. If Jesus dying on the cross was losing, if Stephen being stoned was losing, then sure, premil means “we lose now.” What nonsense. God never wastes anything; every good deed done here lives forever, one way or another, and God is brilliant at victories that don’t seem like victories as the world reckons things. The final destruction of the world is one more such death, and it will be followed by one more such resurrection! It may be the case that every paper copy and recording of Handel’s Messiah is going to melt with a fervent heat, but do we seriously think we won’t have Handel’s Messiah — with a rousing polyrhythmic djembe section that’s not been written yet — in the Kingdom? And knowing that, is there any reason why we shouldn’t go ahead and write that bit today?
People who think the bright lines in eschatology are between amil, postmil, and premil are fundamentally mistaken about the discipline. It’s a common misconception bred by the fact that far too many of our theologians never get out of the classroom. Here’s what matters far more: When we wake up in the morning to a headline that tells us the kings of the earth have taken counsel against the Lord and His Anointed, what do we do? We know what God is doing — He’s laughing. Psalm 2 says so! He thinks it’s hilarious, mock-worthy. The question is whether we laugh with Him, or whether we go out in the yard and do our best Chicken Little imitation. THAT is the bright line in eschatology, and people who think it tracks with a-, post-, or pre-mil need to get out more. I’ve known postmil folk to fall apart at a headline, and my people here are overwhelmingly premil folk who join in the mockery.
Overrealized eschatology is poison. I recently found myself in a couple of conversations about the way in which “pessimistic” premillennial eschatology is said to create people who don’t care about the material conditions in which their neighbors live, because fixing this world is “polishing the brass on a sinking ship.” That kind of premillennialism is trash, and I say that as a premil guy.
I’d love to say that description is a caricature, a straw man. It’s not, quite. Evangelists for other eschatological positions certainly overplay it (and they’ll answer to their Maker for slandering their brethren when the time comes), but these people really do exist. The antidote to that sort of nonsense is simple and biblical. Here are four key pieces:
1) The Dominion Mandate was given to Adam and Eve, repeated to Noah and his descendants, and is still in force for Noah’s descendants today. So live fruitfully in every direction; fill the earth and subdue it. Exercise godly dominion over whatever God has placed within your reach. This is God’s will for your life, and no eschatological position relieves you of your duty.
2) Seek first the kingdom of God, *and His righteousness.* The consummated kingdom may be future, but God’s righteousness is revealed in the gospel in this age, and realized every time we obey Him. Premillennialism does not give anyone in government an excuse for promoting policies that Jesus doesn’t like. If you’re a voter, that applies to you. Dealing in reality means making trade-offs, and that’s fine, but you should be aiming for God’s righteousness.
3) Psalm 2. When the headlines tell us that the kings of the earth are taking counsel against the Lord and His Anointed, God thinks it’s hilarious. We can do our best Chicken Little imitation, or we can join Him in laughter. We should, and the psalms give us the vocabulary for that. Sing them, pray them, read them, get them deep into you.
4) Love your neighbor. If you love your neighbor, then you can’t be indifferent about a war that kills a bunch of your neighbors. If you love your neighbor, then you want his sewers to keep working. And so on — yes, the elements will melt with a fervent heat, but until they do, love your neighbor already!
It’s not really that hard. However you think this all ends, you don’t get to ignore how God told you to live today. That’s true for the impatient postmillennials who are smuggling crates of AKs for the theocracy they’re hoping to usher in next Tuesday, and it’s true for impatient premillennials who want to ignore the Dominion Mandate and the Greatest Commandment because God chose to make the world out of flammable ingredients. People like that are idiots, and we shouldn’t pick either our ethics or our eschatology based on idiots.
In Part 1 of this series, we considered finding a mentor. Now, let’s talk about the other half of the equation: finding an apprentice.
Lack of mentorship is of the biggest problems the West faces today, in and out of the Church. The Boomers as a generation shrugged off mentoring. When they were young, they were famous for saying “Never trust anybody over 30.” (I think it was Joe Queenan who observed that as they aged, they have done their part to ensure that it remains good advice!) As a result most of them were never mentored themselves, and then didn’t know how to mentor when it was their turn to give back. Mostly, they assumed every generation behind them would want to be neglected, which explains most of what you need to know about how Gen X was parented. This assumption was highly convenient for the Boomers, who as a generation were focused on enjoying life and couldn’t be bothered with the inconveniences of legacy. (Yeah, I know, not all of them. But a critical mass, easily enough to create a crisis of mentorship.)
But let’s assume, Gentle Reader, that you’re willing to embrace the hard work of mentoring. Probably the most common question I get from would-be mentors is, “Where did your apprentices come from? Where do you find these people?” Here’s what you need to know about that.
(1) They’re everywhere. People are desperate for what a mentor can provide, young adults especially. I can almost guarantee that you talked with someone I’d consider a candidate in the last couple days. It’s not about where you look, it’s about how you look. You need to learn to see what’s in front of you.
(2) Mostly they don’t walk up and ask for mentoring. But they definitely signal need:
“I guess I don’t really have a dad.”
“It must have been great to have had someone to show you how to do these things.”
“I just don’t understand those people!”
“I don’t really know what else to do.”
In a hundred little ways, people signal that they need what mentoring can provide, and that they are aware of the need. They often don’t know that mentoring can meet that need, but they have something going on where they’d be happy to hear “I think I might be able to help with that.” That’s where it starts. Don’t wait to be asked; go fishing for men!
3) Since you’re not waiting to be asked, you’re going to do some work up front. You know the white-bearded master that pupils climb a mountain to find? Being that guy is a cool little fantasy, but most of the time that’s what it is–a fantasy. In real life, they’ll show you a need, and you’ll respond with blessing and service, demonstrating that you can help meet that need, and that there’s more where that solution came from. They might jump over hurdles later after you’ve demonstrated what you can offer as a mentor, but they aren’t going to do it to start with. Expect to be generous with your time, money, effort, attention. If you’re not willing to do that, you shouldn’t be mentoring.
3b) One of the other common things I hear is “I’m investing everywhere I can, but nobody’s taking my advice!” If you’re having that problem, reconsider the nature of your investment. Invest your gratitude, your praise, your effort, your connections, your money. If there is anything virtuous, if there is anything praiseworthy, invest in it! Bless what can be blessed. If you can’t see what’s good, nobody will listen to you about what needs correcting, and nobody should. Quit pontificating and do some actual work.
4) The most straightforward way to “fish for men” is to make the initial overture and invest in the people around you, and then pay attention to what happens next. Most people won’t reward the investment. That’s fine; plenty of people didn’t reward Jesus’ investment either. Think “Parable of the Sower” here: some never start, some are drawn away by shiny objects, some quit when it gets hard, but some pay off –some just okay, some well, and some handsomely. But none of that happens if you don’t sow the seed. Start the ball rolling. Notice the need and do something about it; at least make an offer. When you see a return, invest more, and let the relationship grow organically from there.
When that works, congratulations! You’re a mentor. How do you do it well? Stay tuned.
Have you seen this meme? Don’t say “I don’t like DEI,” it exhorts us. What, exactly, don’t you like? Is it diversity? Then say “I don’t like diversity.” Own it, man. Don’t hide behind an acronym.
Before I step up to the pinata, allow me a moment to point and laugh: have we all forgotten that the DEI acronym (like the ill-fated term “social justice warrior”) was invented by its proponents? You know you’re in a bad way when you start complaining that people are “hiding behind” your own term. If you wonder why it’s acquired unfortunate connotations, check the mirror.
Ahem…as to the DEI pinata: as St. Orwell taught us, newspeak is doubleplusungood, and it’s always reasonable to hate it. As Orwell also taught us, always, always look to the definitions. In DEI discourse, the words “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion” are used in ways only vaguely related to the actual meanings of those words, and therein lies their motte-and-bailey utility. Suppose you oppose a hiring quota wherein you can’t accept qualified candidates from already “overrepresented” groups. “How could you be against diversity?” they say. The invocation of “diversity” in that (DEI) context is not an invitation to thoughtful discourse; it’s meant to throw you into a rhetorical hole wherein you now have to prove that you’re not “against diversity.” In other words, it is a thought-terminating cliche. Same goes for “equity” and “inclusion.” These words were always meant to be thought-terminating cliches; their proponents are just upset because people began to notice.
Let’s break it down:
In DEI discourse, “diversity” means people who look different in a picture but think the same, which is why, in a workplace as allegedly “diverse” as NPR, even Uri Berliner couldn’t generate any interest in viewpoint diversity – got run out of the organization for trying, in fact. That kind of “diversity”…isn’t anything of the kind. I dislike it for the same reason I dislike counterfeit money.
“Equity” in DEI terms means poo-pooing equal opportunity in favor of trying to guarantee a favored outcome. In practice, that means you’re going to indulge in a series of transparent manipulations in order to advantage some and handicap others in pursuit of some idealized vision which is, ex hypothesi, The Way The World Should Be (cf. complaints about Asian “overrepresentation” at certain colleges). In other words, you’re committing to a visibly unjust process today in hopes of achieving a just result in a distant future. “Let us do evil that good may come” has always been morally bankrupt; suggesting that these folks, of all people, possess special insight into The Way The World Should Be…jeepers, it would be laugh-til-you-pee funny except that people actually mean it.
“Inclusion” in DEI terms plays on your good desire to make someone feel welcome, but that’s not what “inclusion” means in this context. “Inclusion” gets used as a cover for rushing people into situations for which they’re not prepared, in order to make everybody else feel righteous about themselves. For example, “inclusion” in education has frequently meant mainstreaming students with special needs (lest they be stigmatized), with the result that they don’t get the specialized support that they need, the classroom environment is constantly disrupted, and teachers aren’t able to do their actual job for either group of students. (Then the school district blames declining test stores on the teachers, and funds more DEI initiatives in hopes of improving things. Lather, rinse, repeat.)
The DEI discourse versions of diversity, equity, and inclusion set forth a regime that every good, discerning human ought to hate. As Reagan once said of communism, the only places such a regime could work are heaven, where they don’t need it, and hell, where they already have it.
Be kind. Tell the truth, even when it’s hard. Don’t be a douche to your neighbors. Love the actual humans that are within your reach. And because you love what is good, true, and beautiful, hate fake virtue dressed up in swanky-sounding abstract nouns.
Young adults need mentors, and a lot of them even know it. Most young adults never get a mentor, because they don’t have the first clue how to find one, and more importantly, how to behave in a mentoring relationship. It’s not their fault; nobody is born knowing these things. Unfortunately, most older adults no longer teach this skill set — not even parents. From the Boomers onward, far too many adults don’t know how to mentor, don’t want to, and simply refuse to assume the responsibilities and moral authority to do the job well.
So if you’re in the market for a mentor, but don’t know where to start, pull up a chair, grab yourself a fine brewed beverage, and let Uncle Tim lay some wisdom on ya. There’s two skill sets you need here: finding and acquiring a mentor to start with, and then living in a mentoring relationship.
The first thing is identifying the person you would like mentoring from. This can be really simple: look for someone who…
is who you want to be when you grow up, or
can do a specific thing that you really want to to do.
You’ll be tempted to think of internet personalities or celebrities. Stop it. Work harder; find someone less famous, and preferably someone local. Once you’ve identified the person, move in for a closer look, as close as you can get. Do you want the whole package, or some specific skill? Are there particular things about this person you definitely do not want to pick up? Think about that one long and hard; if you spend significant time with this person, you may end up more like them than you wanted to be.
Once you’ve found the person…then what? Ask, of course! But there’s an art to maximizing your chances of getting a “yes.” First you need the right mindset, and then you need a good approach. As a potential apprentice, you need to have a clear understanding of the nature of mentoring relationships. In no particular order, here are some key things to know:
If you’re just getting started, all you need is someone a little ahead of you. As you grow, you’ll come to need (and be able to attract) mentors with much greater experience and skill.
Every beginner dreams of being mentored by a master teacher from day one. That really does happen occasionally; I’ve met a few such people. Usually, that person is the teacher’s kid, favorite nephew, or something like that. If you get such an opportunity, by all means take it, but don’t sit around waiting for it to magically happen. Normally, a master teacher’s time will be spent with advanced practitioners who have already put in the time to master the basics of the craft, and who have already proven their commitment to continuing in the work. Those people are a much better investment than you are as a beginner. If you’re the kind of person who won’t engage unless you can be guided by a master, then you’re also the kind of person no master will take. Nobody needs an apprentice who won’t get over himself.
It’s really rare that anybody worth following actually needs your help. Unless you happen to have some special skill your prospective mentor really needs, this isn’t going to be an even exchange at the beginning, which means you’ll be asking for an investment, not a trade. (There are ways of evening up. I have a colleague who cold-approached a world-class practitioner and asked him to mentor her; she offered to pay his regular hourly rate for any time he spent on her, so he wouldn’t lose money. He said yes; she worked her tail off, and today she’s highly and uniquely skilled. She also spent a small fortune getting there; not everyone can do that. But it was money well spent.)
Since it won’t start as an even exchange, you will be a net drain on the system in the beginning. Teaching you has an opportunity cost; your mentor is going to get less of something this year because he’s spending time and effort on you. What the cost is to him depends on the situation; it might mean slowing down his work so he can teach you as he goes; it might mean taking fewer jobs in order to make time for you. The time he spends with you might otherwise be spent with his wife, his kids, his friends, reading, learning some new skill, or binge-watching UFO documentaries, but count on it, that time is coming from somewhere. No need to feel bad about that; your mentor thinks you’re worth the investment, or you wouldn’t be here. But he has an expectation that the investment is going to pay off; it’s up to you to make sure he’s right.
Speaking of the investment paying off, here’s a basic rule of human behavior: everybody always gets paid…somehow.
You will get tutelage and experience.
Your mentor will get…something. In order for the relationship to work well, you need to know what he’s getting out of it. Find out what it costs and don’t be put off by the inconvenience. Training an apprentice isn’t convenient either; this is your end of the deal. If it’s not worth the cost, then find a different mentor. If it is, then pay it and make it look easy.
It’s an asymmetrical relationship, but it’s not asymmetrical everywhere, all the time. There are things your mentor will do for you that you couldn’t do or wouldn’t be expected to reciprocate. That’s fine. There are other things that you absolutely should reciprocate, and you’ll blow up the relationship if you don’t. Know the difference.
Balance is a moving target. Your obligations mount as your skills grow and your mentor’s needs change. Keep an eye on ways you might be able to reciprocate now that you couldn’t have when you started.
If you have integrity, you will at some point disagree with your mentor. That’s okay. Your mentor is not God, and it’s ok to disappoint him—but make it count. If the relationship is worth having, then it’s worth taking good care of; don’t become a disappointment through inadvertence or over something stupid.
Knowing that’s what you’re getting into, do you still want this person to mentor you? If so, then you want to ask in a way that maximizes your chances of getting an enthusiastic “Yes!” Here’s what you need to do:
Do your homework.
Know as much as you can about the field.
Know who you’re approaching. Study websites, social media pages, curriculum vitae. Whatever’s publicly available about where your prospective mentor has been and what he’s done, learn it.
If your prospective mentor has already produced material for up-and-coming workers in your field, get it. It’s gauche to ask an expert to tell you a bunch of stuff for free when their livelihood comes in part from selling that same information. If it costs money, then spend some! Read the books; watch the videos; listen to the podcasts. Digest that material ahead of time; don’t ask your prospective mentor to waste time telling you things they’ve already put out there.
Have something to show for it
Having done your homework, showcase it. At a minimum, come in with some intelligent questions: “I read where you said X, and I was wondering….”
Better: “I’ve been following your instructions from [book/podcast/article], and here’s what happened. I have some questions about my next steps.…”
Ask boldly
We all fantasize about our chosen mentor seeing how we’ve applied their work and begging us to come study with them. It’s okay to have the fantasy, but know that it’s a fantasy. People worth following already have plenty to do; mostly they don’t go about asking for more work.
Be very clear ahead of time about what you want from this mentor. Do you want them to give you a book review? Help you put together a business plan? Edit an article before you submit it? Help you figure out which school to go to? Find an investor? Talk about life over coffee for an hour a week? I strongly suggest writing it down clearly. “I want [person] to [action] for me.” You may not get what you want, but you should know what you want.
Don’t be coy. You’ve showcased your work; you’ve made the best case you can that you’ll be a worthwhile investment. You know what you want from them. So ask clearly for the specific investment that you want.
It’s ok if you’re just asking for something small, like “Would it be ok if I call or email to ask about advice on next steps every couple months? It doesn’t have to be a grand request.
On the other hand, if you want more, ask for more: “Could we meet for an hour every other week for the next year?”
You may well get a no. Take it gracefully. God has a way of bringing people back around in our lives; don’t burn the bridge. You never know what will happen later.
You may get “I can’t do that, but we could….” and an offer of some lesser level of investment. In that case, take it and follow up quickly. Treat it as a second interview.
You may just get an assignment. “I can’t meet with you, but here’s what you should work on next….” Frequently, your wounded pride will tempt you not to follow through on the assignment because they turned you down. Do what you want, but know that once upon a time, a very busy man gave me such an assignment. I did it, and it changed the course of my life. (God was being kind to me. In hindsight, he would have been a terrible mentor. But it was a great assignment. I’ll tell you about it sometime.) Also, again, treat it as a second interview. Sometimes it is.
If you got a “no,” don’t give up. Keep looking around. Locate another likely candidate. Do the same thing. Keep going until you find what you need.
On the other hand, perhaps you got a yes. Now you have a mentor! What do you need to know, to keep the relationship good? First, go back up to the top and review all the things I said about the nature of the mentoring relationship. Have all that firmly in mind. Then…
You got into this relationship seeking guidance. So take it. If it doesn’t work, come back for a debrief. But don’t come back with “I thought your advice was stupid/hard so I didn’t do it, and now I need help managing the fallout of my poor decisions.” Can’t complain about the results you didn’t get from the work you didn’t do. If you screwed up, it’s not the end of the world; recover as best you can, go back to the drawing board, and do what you were told.
Some of the guidance your mentor gives will seem stupid. That’s normal. Real life is frequently counterintuitive, and if you already knew all the smart ideas, you wouldn’t need a mentor, wouldja? Go ahead and do what you’re told; see what happens. Usually, hindsight will provide all the insight you need. Sometimes, you’ll need further explanation. The best time to ask “Why?” is after you’ve gone and done the thing. Don’t ask for someone to invest valuable time and expertise giving you guidance and then argue with them about it. Show your commitment, then ask: “I woulda sworn that wasn’t going to work…and it did. I still don’t get it. Why?” Occasionally—because even the best mentors are fallible—it really will be stupid guidance. But as a newbie, you can’t tell whether the advice is wrong, or you are wrong. Accept that occasionally you’re going to follow bad advice. It’s the cost of doing business.
The above is a useful rule of thumb, but there are exceptions. Sometimes a promising-looking mentor turns out to be a tyrant who’s exploiting you and giving nothing worthwhile in return, and you really should just walk away. On the other hand, sometimes your mentor simply didn’t understand the problem. The easiest way to navigate that is to take responsibility yourself: “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I explained the problem properly. Let me try again….”
Some guidance will call for a metric ton of hard work, and you’re going to be tempted to seek shortcuts. Don’t. In the words of Scott Sonnon, “Until you have thoroughly mastered the basics, every ‘new’ idea you have has already been considered and rejected, with good reason.” That won’t be true 100% of the time, but close enough. Your time will be better spent working hard to master the basics; innovation can wait. (That said, look up the story of Gaston Glock sometime. There are occasional spectacular exceptions.)
You aren’t signing your life away when you apprentice to someone. You answer to God on the last day for yourself; you have to choose to follow your mentor’s guidance or not. But you can’t reasonably expect someone to continue to invest in you if you don’t take their guidance; conversely, if you don’t find their guidance worth following, you probably need a different mentor anyway.
So there ya go. I hope it’s helpful to you. Now, I know some of this is hard to hear, and of course I understand if you disagree. No worries; I’m fallible like everybody else. Maybe you know better than I do. And anyhow, I’m not holding a gun to your head; ain’t nothing stopping you from doing it your way. Best of luck….
I read this post recently, and in the main I agree with it, although I’ve a quibble here and there. It prompted a thought that I want to flesh out here. For the purposes of this post, I’m speaking to young, single Christians who want to get married.
There’s much discussion, even in sensible treatments like Aly Dee’s post above, of the merits and demerits of “lowering your standards.” Conceding the overall discourse of “standards” for a second, the discussion makes sense. You have a wish list of traits you’re looking for, and you want most or all of them in a spouse. That’s what they’re bringing to the table; in market terms, that’s the price you charge for your hand in marriage. Most people are willing to haggle a bit; if your prospect exceeds your expectations in a couple of areas, perhaps you can give some ground in a couple of others. But sometimes, despite your willingness to haggle, you just can’t get the deal done. In market terms, it makes sense to lower the price if the product is just not selling, right?
Of course it does. But you may be looking at the whole interaction through the wrong lens.
Let’s talk about these “standards,” because in my experience, when I ask my young, single friends to give me the list of standards, we too often end up with “loves Jesus,” “wants a family,” “blonde,” and “good calves” all on the same list. They do not belong on the same list. “Blonde” is not a standard, and marrying a brunette is not “lowering your standards.” There simply is no meaningful sense in which blonde hair is a higher standard, and dark hair a lower one. God likes them both.
“But I really like blondes!” you say. No problem. Wherever you’re looking for a spouse, if you have lots of prospects and you only spend Friday evening at home when you absolutely want to, then stick with blondes. Why not date who you prefer? But if the only prospect you have is a brunette, don’t be an idiot. Letting go of a preference is not lowering a standard.
Standards are things God likes. Preferences are things you want. You have no business marrying someone if God isn’t going to like it. You have every reason to consider haggling where your preferences are concerned. True story here: I had my own list, back in my single days. I imagined a woman who was a brunette or redhead, 5’4″, intelligent, a reader, loved the outdoors (among other things). I got three of those five things, and that’s fine. My wife being 5’10” and more of an indoor person does not threaten our marriage in any way.
I was also looking for a woman who loved Jesus, wanted a family, and had a heart for ministry. These things are not in the same category as the other list, and I got all of them. Missing one or more of those things would have fundamentally undermined a godly marriage. Now, as it turns out, we were unable to conceive, and navigating that was one of the more painful things about our life together, but providential suffering doesn’t undermine your marriage. Lack of godly values undermines your marriage.
God likes tall girls and short girls. He likes people with skinny calves and people with muscular calves. He made tons of both. You can learn to like what God likes. You had better not learn to like what God doesn’t.
Nobody is saying you shouldn’t have preferences, and nobody is saying you shouldn’t go for as many of your preferences as you can get. But frankly, if you’re 30 and still single after years of trying, you should be prepared to do a lot of negotiating. So get on your knees, pray, and ask God to give you the wisdom to know what to do, because this is one of the most important judgment calls you’ll ever make.
Posted by Tim Nichols 
Full Contact Christianity 