“May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.” — First-century Jewish blessing
I didn’t know, when I first converted to Christianity, that I was entering into a space that would one day cause me to overthrow false rabbis in favor of a new one.
I had never used the word rabbi. I had no Jewish background. The idea was foreign to me.
What I was given was a salvation theory—a way to have my sins forgiven, so that when life in my kingdom ended, I could enter the next. That’s how Christian faith was presented to me. And I accepted that version without question.
What I didn’t realize was that I had received only part of the truth. Like being handed a puzzle piece and told it was the whole picture.
It took years before I realized what I’d missed: I had been given a Savior, but not a Rabbi.
And just to be clear—referring to Jesus as our Rabbi isn’t a call to embrace Jewish ritual or reject Christian salvation. It’s an acknowledgment of how Jesus actually lived and taught. In the first-century world he stepped into, Rabbi was the word for a spiritual master. When we say Jesus is our Rabbi, we’re not diminishing his role as Savior—we’re deepening it. We’re saying: “I trust you not only to forgive my sin, but to teach me how to live.”
When we talk about spiritual formation—about finding the way to a deeper life with Jesus—we’re really talking about one thing: walking more closely with Jesus, and that requires Jesus becoming our rabbi.
And once that clicked, everything began to change.
🧭 A Kingdom Not of This World
In the first century, rabbis weren’t just teachers—they embodied an entire way of life. To become someone’s disciple was to say: I trust your vision of reality more than I trust my own.
You didn’t just listen to a rabbi. You followed him.
You didn’t just learn his ideas. You lived them.
You didn’t just add him to your beliefs. You let him reshape your beliefs.
You didn’t build a spiritual patchwork quilt of assorted viewpoints.
You surrendered your way of seeing to his way of seeing.
So when Jesus said, “Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man…” (Matthew 7:24), he wasn’t being poetic. He was extending a radical invitation:
Build your life on what I say.
Trust me more than you trust yourself.
Let my truth become your foundation.
Discipleship was not about dipping in and out of belief. It was about reordering your life under the leadership of your rabbi.
And Jesus? He wasn’t just any rabbi.
👣 Rabbi. Teacher. Truth.
Jesus is called “rabbi” or “teacher” 63 times in the Gospels (John 1:38, Mark 11:21, Matthew 23:8–10, etc.).
But unlike other rabbis, Jesus didn’t just have truth—he was truth.
“I am the way, the truth, and the life.” — John 14:6
The Greek word here is alētheia—not a cold, abstract fact, but unveiled reality.
Truth wasn’t something Jesus merely explained.
It was who he was.
For Jesus, truth is not an idea to believe but a person to follow.
And when you followed a rabbi in the first century, your goal wasn’t to admire him from a distance. Your goal was to emulate, imitate, replicate, and embody his life.
That’s why Jesus said, “I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done for you.” (John 13:15)
He wasn’t offering a suggestion. He was pointing to the essence of discipleship.
👑 A Rabbi from Another Kingdom
When Jesus stepped into history, he didn’t arrive as just another voice in the religious marketplace.
He came from another kingdom.
“My kingdom is not of this world…” — John 18:36
The gospel of John makes it clear: Jesus is not simply offering insight—he is the insight. He doesn't propose a version of reality—he reveals reality itself.
And because he is uniquely divine—God in flesh—he has the authority to say:
“This is true, and that is false. This is right, and that is wrong. This is the way—walk in it.”
This is what separates Christian spiritual formation from generic spirituality.
It’s not about following your inner compass or picking what feels good from different traditions.
It’s about tethering your life to the one who came from the kingdom of heaven to make that kingdom known—on earth as it is in heaven.
That’s why we say: Christian spiritual formation begins and ends with Christ.
Not as a symbol. Not as a metaphor. But as a living rabbi whose truth defines our way.
💭 Willard Was Right
Dallas Willard once said: “Jesus is the smartest person in every room.”
Smarter than Einstein in physics. Wiser than Freud in psychology. More visionary than Jefferson in politics.
We follow Jesus not only because he gets us to heaven—but because he knows how to live—and how we were created to live.
But today?
We follow him for mercy—but ignore him when it comes to truth.
We trust him for forgiveness—but not for how to handle politics, parenting, gender, or money.
Culture, too, is a kind of rabbi. It teaches us how to speak, how to spend, what to fear, and what to want. It rewards those who imitate its values and shames those who don’t. Like all rabbis, it forms its followers in its image. And unless we’re intentional, we’ll end up copying and replicating its ways without even realizing it.
We’ve let culture disciple us more than Christ.
🤔 Whose Kingdom Shapes My Choices?
This brings us to the question that disrupts everything:
Am I a disciple of Jesus—or just a Christian by cultural standards?
I live in North America. But is my life being shaped more by the way of Jesus—or by North American values?
Jesus once asked: “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46)
If we call him Savior but don’t follow him as Rabbi, are we really his disciples?
And here’s where the questions get personal:
Have I allowed my political views to shape my theology more than the teachings of Jesus?
Have I left churches over political disagreements rather than discerning kingdom truth?
Do I dismiss Jesus’ views on marriage, gender, sexuality, or life as outdated or uneducated—while assuming the culture must be right?
If so, culture has become my rabbi.
We’re not walking in the dust of Jesus.
We’re covered in the dust of our news feeds, our influencers, our preferred political tribe.
And the longer we follow them, the more like them we become.
The invitation of Jesus still stands: Follow me. Not only as Savior, but as the one whose truth is reality.
🔁 The Gospel: Not Just Forgiveness, But Formation
If your version of the gospel is mostly about getting into heaven, there’s not much room—or need—for discipleship.
But if the gospel is about living the kind of life Jesus would live if he were you?
Then discipleship isn’t optional. It’s the heart of the whole thing.
The church’s mission isn’t just to make converts. It’s to make disciples—people so close to Jesus they get dusty.
There is no example in scripture where the disciples were sent out to make converts. Instead, the men and women who had become disciples of the Rabbi from heaven were sent out to make disciples of Jesus, the Rabbi from another Kingdom.
🌿 Covered in the Dust of Your Rabbi
There’s an old blessing in Jewish tradition:
“May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”
It meant: May his way of life get all over you.
His ideas. His courage. His practices. His grace. His love of truth.
To follow Jesus in today’s world is to live like this:
When the world demands that you choose a political side—remember who your Rabbi is.
When the culture invites you to redefine reality—ask what’s true in his kingdom.
When truth is reduced to personal preference—stay close enough to Jesus to let his truth shape you.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” — Romans 12:2
When Jesus speaks, we listen.
When the world conflicts with his teaching, we choose his teaching.
When things get confusing, we don’t default to our politics—we return to the person.
🔦 Returning to the Rabbi in a World Gone Dim
Why is this so hard today?
Biblical literacy is declining. The American Bible Society says “Bible users” are now defined as people who open the Bible three to four times per year.
Ideologies dominate. Many people know more about cultural theories than they do about the teachings of Jesus.
Conformity is rewarded. Speak up—or even pause—and you risk being canceled.
In a world that pressures you to conform, discipleship dares you to resist.
And not just resist for resistance’s sake, but to align your life with the truest reality:
The kingdom of God is here.
📌 Coming Tomorrow: A Disciple Who Refused to Look Away
Tomorrow, I’ll tell the story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer—a man who walked so closely behind Jesus that when the Nazi regime demanded silence, he chose the truth instead. It cost him everything.
Bonhoeffer was covered in the dust of his rabbi—and it showed.
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🕊 A Blessing for the Journey
May you walk so closely behind Jesus
that his truth becomes your path,
his mercy your covering,
and his dust your adornment.
And when the voices of the world grow loud,
may his still voice be clearer.
When the way feels uncertain,
may his kingdom come near.
Go in the dust of your Rabbi—
and may that dust be holy.
Gratefully,
Gene
Thank you, Gene? Excelled and inspiring work!
Love your thoughts here, by the way, and that beautiful Jewish blessing!