Sent: Ambassadors of Christ “Discipleship: The Simplicity and Purity of Devotion” – Chapter 7

Chapter seven of “Discipleship: The Simplicity and Purity of Devotion”, on what it means to be sent as Christ’s ambassador — living as a witness right where you already are, the wilderness seasons that prepare you, and becoming a steady pillar who bears God’s presence and multiplies disciples.

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Citizens of Heaven


Throughout this book, we’ve looked at what salvation actually is, walked through the main arc of Scripture, explored prayer as a living conversation, discussed our new identity in Christ, unpacked the spiritual gifts God gives His people, and peeked behind the curtain of the spiritual war raging around us. That’s no small journey and I’m glad you’ve stuck with it!

Knowing all of this, what are we supposed to do with it? Are we just meant to gather more information, attend more services, and wait for heaven? Or, is there something more going on?

Back in chapter one, I mentioned that we’re saved for good works, not by good works (). But, these good works aren’t just for ourselves. He rescues, restores, and reshapes us, and then He sends us. Not as hired hands working off a debt, but as beloved children representing our Father in a world that desperately needs to know Him.

In the Roman Empire, an ambassador was a high-ranking envoy sent by the emperor to represent his authority in distant territories. An ambassador spoke with the emperor’s voice, carried his decrees, and their conduct directly reflected on the empire itself. To dishonor an ambassador was to dishonor the emperor who sent them!

When combined with the idea of an ambassador, citizenship describes a people living abroad while maintaining full allegiance to their homeland. Philippi was itself a Roman colony, and its citizens took enormous pride in their Roman citizenship, because it came with rights, protections, and identity. So, when Paul said their real citizenship was somewhere else entirely, he was redefining where their ultimate allegiance belonged.

We may live on earth, but we belong to another Kingdom. Since that Kingdom is different, then so are we, its citizens. Our values, priorities, and definitions of success come from a different throne. That’s not a reason to withdraw from the world or look down on it though. Instead, it’s the very reason we’re in it.

Think about what an ambassador actually does. They don’t represent themselves, but the authority, character, and priorities of the one who sent them. They carry the culture of their homeland into foreign territory, not to conquer it by force, but to represent it faithfully. They speak on behalf of a king who isn’t physically present in that location, but whose authority backs every word. However, they don’t have the luxury of “going off script” or representing their own agenda. An ambassador who contradicts the king is no ambassador at all!

That’s us. Every believer is an ambassador. The form of that sending differs wildly from person to person by their spiritual gifting and calling, but the commission is the same. The Father sends His people into the world—through His Son, empowered by The Holy Spirit—to represent His Kingdom wherever they go. That representation isn’t just limited to words either. It shows up in conduct, integrity, generosity, patience, and love.

Worldly religion often settles for outward appearance that’s measured by visibility, performance, or the approval of others. It can look impressive while leaving the deeper parts of life untouched. But the kind of religion God values reaches into the hidden places. It reshapes priorities, redirects attention toward those in need, and forms a life marked by quiet obedience rather than recognition. Instead of drawing attention to self, we are to reflect His character—steady, compassionate, and uncorrupted—until what we say we believe and how we actually live operate in unison.

Living as a Witness


This passage is widely known as The Great Commission. As mentioned in the previous section, it reemphasizes that it’s The King who has authority and we are sent by Him. However, without getting into Greek vocabulary and grammar, the actual command here isn’t to “go,” but to “make disciples.” In fact, this passage could just as easily be translated, “As you journey, make disciples.”

Sure, this disciple-making journey can involve mission work overseas, but this passage is more about the impact you make wherever God has placed you in the moment. You’re already going to work, buying groceries, picking up the kids, sitting in traffic, etc. The question isn’t whether you’re going, but what you’re doing while you go. Or, better yet, who you are on this journey.

Much of God’s work happens through steady, daily obedience rather than dramatic moments. The vast majority of the early church’s growth happened, not through eloquent sermons in colosseums, but through ordinary believers living distinctly in their communities and talking about Jesus over meals and in marketplaces. More than any organized campaign, it was the everyday conduct of Christians—their radical generosity during plagues and their treatment of women and the poor—that drew the Roman world to Christ.

Many spiritual opportunities come in quiet, easily missed moments. A question from a coworker about what keeps you going. A friend falling apart over coffee. A neighbor who mentions they haven’t prayed in years. Disciples learn to recognize these moments and step into them, not with a rehearsed speech, but with genuine presence and the willingness to honestly share whatever God lays on their heart.

Every ordinary moment is an opportunity to represent Christ and love the people around us. Opening your home, sharing a meal at a restaurant, welcoming someone into the rhythm of your everyday life: these can become some of the most powerful expressions of God’s love. There’s something disarming about being invited into someone’s “normal.” It creates a space where walls come down, relationships deepen, and honest conversations about faith can happen naturally.

Notice the pattern Jesus lays out:

First Jerusalem (hometown), then Judea (the surrounding region), then Samaria (the uncomfortable neighbor), and finally, the ends of the earth. This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but in general, it expands outward from where you already are. God’s mission doesn’t typically start with a plane ticket, but in your kitchen, at the water cooler, or with the neighbor you’ve been avoiding. Again, everyone participates in this mission somehow, even if their calling differs.

Sent to the Fields


There’s a moment in the Gospels that’s easy to read past. Jesus looked out at the crowds and said something that reveals His heart for mission more directly than almost anything else He said.

He didn’t say the harvest was hard to find or impossible to reach. He said it was plentiful. There was an abundance of people ready to receive the love of God. The problem’s never been a shortage of harvest, but a shortage of workers willing to go into the field.

Jesus didn’t set up a building and wait for people to come to Him. He went to them. He showed up at a well in Samaria where no respectable Jewish teacher would’ve been caught, and He sat down and talked with a woman the entire town avoided (John 4). He walked up to a despised tax collector and invited Himself over to that guy’s house (). He ate meals with the religious elite while still welcoming those dismissed as sinners ().

Jesus entered the uncomfortable spaces to be with the marginalized. He met people in the middle of their ordinary, messy lives, and He offered them the Living Water of the Holy Spirit without demanding they clean themselves up first.

Paul took this same approach on a wider scale. As the gospel spread beyond Jewish communities and into the Roman world, he did something that some in the early church found uncomfortable.

Paul “met people where they were,” spoke their language (literally and culturally), and built bridges rather than barriers. He entered synagogues, courtrooms, marketplaces, and philosophical arenas (). The message never changed, but the approach flexed to meet the audience.

To an extent, we’re all called to do this as God leads. While not everyone is specifically gifted as an evangelist, each believer is invited to live and speak in a way that points others toward the hope of salvation. Like Timothy, who was primarily a teacher and leader, yet still urged by Paul the Apostle to “do the work of an evangelist” (), we too are reminded not to lose sight of the outward mission.

However, those who carry an evangelistic gifting often feel a distinct burden and boldness to proclaim the victorious news more consistently and broadly. We see a clear example in Philip the Evangelist, whose ministry was marked by preaching Christ in new places and seeing many respond (Acts 8). The seeds we sow have to go into the soil where God has prepared the ground (; ), but sometimes that soil looks nothing like what we would choose on our own. So, we must keep our ears and hearts open to wherever and whomever God wants to send us.

Sent to the Wilderness


Before God sends, He often prepares. And His preparation doesn’t always look the way we’d expect. There are seasons when God disrupts the ordinary to do something deeper. Throughout Scripture, we see a pattern: before a major assignment, God draws people into the wilderness. Not as punishment, but as preparation.

Moses spent forty years tending sheep in Midian before leading a nation (). Israel wandered for forty years before entering the Promised Land (). David was anointed king, then spent years hiding in caves before sitting on the throne (; ; ). Elijah was sent to the brook at Cherith, alone, fed by ravens (). John the Baptist grew up in the wilderness before his public ministry (). Even Jesus, the sinless Son of God, was led by The Spirit into the wilderness immediately after His baptism and before His public ministry began ().

So, if The Perfect Son was drawn into the wilderness, we shouldn’t be surprised when God leads us there too.

God led them through the wilderness. He didn’t abandon them in it. But His purpose was clear: to reveal what was in their hearts and to teach them dependence on His voice above everything else.

This is important to understand, because the wilderness has a counterfeit. As mentioned in the previous chapter, one of the strategies of Satan is to isolate us. He will pluck us from the herd and try to convince us that we don’t belong and no one understands. But, God’s wilderness is different.

God normally calls us to the wilderness in order to strip away the distractions, good and bad, in order to address the heart behind it all. Usually, He’ll pull us aside for a short stint, but occasionally it can be for years. The wilderness can be very discouraging, especially the longer you’re in it. God brings you there because He needs to teach you something that’s not easily learned in the midst of the crowds and chaos.

It’s not something you can learn by hearing another sermon or singing another song. It’s a heart shift. He’s pulling you away from all the noisy distractions so you can hear His voice. He’s stripping away your schedules and routines so you have time to spend with Him, instead of just being inundated with endless “filler.”

Satan loves to attack during these times too, trying to inundate you with new decoys, or trying to make you question the very goodness of God for leaving you to die alone out there. But, this is where we learn that we truly survive on the “bread” of God’s voice.

Even at the height of His public ministry, when the crowds pressed in and the demands were constant, Jesus pulled away to reconnect with The Father. He went to the mountaintop, to the garden, to the quiet places where nobody could reach Him. Not because He was running from the mission, but because the mission flowed out of those quiet places. Again, if The Son of God needed to regularly steal away and be with His Dad, how much more do we?

So, if you find yourself in a wilderness season right now, take heart. There’s an “after the wilderness” that God has in mind. John the Baptist grew strong in spirit in the desert before he ever raised his voice at the Jordan River (). God hasn’t forgotten you. He’s doing something that requires fewer distractions and more of His undivided attention. And when the time comes, He will bring you out, equipped and ready, carrying something that could only have been forged in the quiet.

Being a Pillar


When Paul wrote to the Galatians, he described Peter, James, and John as men “known as pillars of the church” (). They weren’t perfect by any means, but they were recognized as steady, trustworthy, and foundational in the early assembly.

You see, a pillar doesn’t go anywhere. That’s the whole point. It supports by bearing weight. It holds things up. It creates stability so that everything around it can function. If a pillar moves, the whole structure is compromised. In the end, a pillar doesn’t draw attention to itself, but it lifts (i.e., exalts) what’s above it.

In the Old Testament, pillars often marked encounters with God. One of the most famous examples of this is when Jacob saw God at the top of a stairway from Earth to Heaven.

A pillar isn’t just structural; it’s also a witness. When you are a pillar, you hold onto truth, even when it’s unpopular. You stay steady when others panic. Your life quietly supports others’ faith. Your life becomes a “marker” where people can say: “God shows up here.”

Later, in the letter to the church in Philadelphia, Jesus makes this promise:

Being a pillar means remaining faithful as God forms you. There’s a tremendous emphasis in Christian culture on going and doing, and there’s a level of truth to that (). But, there’s a quieter calling that gets less attention: the calling to stay. To be the person that quietly endures the mundane and ordinary. To be the person who remains planted in a family of unbelievers, a church with issues, a secular workplace, or a rundown neighborhood.

Steadily, reliably, year after year, these are the ones carrying a spiritual weight that others may never see. Sometimes God calls people to these places because they’re the only pillar of light God has placed there. They’re the quiet witnesses whose presence holds back decay, carries His influence, and keeps a space open for His mercy to chip away at hardened hearts.

Think of the people in your own life who’ve been pillars. Maybe it’s a parent who held the family together through decades of hardship without ever making a scene about it. Maybe it’s a friend who didn’t flinch when your life fell apart, but just kept showing up with coffee and honesty when everyone else quietly stepped back. None of those people made headlines, but they changed you.

These Christian pillars are the ones whose integrity is so consistent that others instinctively trust them. Think of Daniel in Babylon, or Joseph in Egypt, men who stood faithful in cultures that didn’t share a single one of their values, for decades, and the blessing of their presence spilled over onto everyone around them. Potiphar’s house was massively blessed because Joseph was in it (). The empire of Babylon was blessed because Daniel served in it (). The pillar didn’t demand that the building conform to it. They simply stood, being what God intended them to be, and the building depended on them more than it realized.

Standing is harder than it looks. Notice that the floods and the torrential winds come regardless of the foundation. The difference isn’t that pillars somehow avoid the storms, but that they remain standing through them. The house on the rock gets relentlessly battered, more than the things that “go with the flow” of the storm. Yet, their standing becomes a source of strength and security for everyone that depends on their faithful stability.

We talked about the armor of God in the previous chapter, but when reading about it, you may have noticed that passage says to “stand firm” three different times.

Paul doesn’t say “having done everything, charge forward” or “having done everything, launch a new initiative.” He says stand. After you’ve prayed, after you’ve obeyed, after you’ve done everything God has asked of you, sometimes the final instruction is simply “be still” ().

This call to be still isn’t passive though. It’s the image of a soldier who has fought the battle and now holds the position. It’s intensely active at times. It’s the constant choice to keep standing strong when every part of you wants to sit down.

Standing requires spiritual strength and endurance. The resistance that comes our way isn’t always dramatic. More often, it’s a slow erosion. Cultural pressure to “compromise just a little.” Discouragement that whispers, “the effort isn’t worth it”. Weariness from doing the right thing without visible reward. This is where prayer, Scripture, and reliance on The Holy Spirit become lifelines rather than rituals. This is why we cannot stand in our own strength, but we must stand in His.

That being said, not every assignment is a lifelong posting. Abraham was told to leave everything he knew (). Paul was constantly on the move, not out of restlessness, but at the direction of The Holy Spirit (). Jesus, after pouring three years into twelve men, told them it was better for Him to go away so The Helper could come ().

Even longstanding pillars must remain willing to follow The Holy Spirit when He redirects them. Faith requires flexibility. The same obedience that kept you planted in one place for a decade is the same obedience that uproots you for a new assignment. But oftentimes, “moving” isn’t about geography at all. God’s leading may shift which season we’re currently at in our life by changing not only our location, but also relationships and roles.

Being sent means staying attentive. Attentive to God’s voice, to the movements of The Spirit, and to the peace or unrest that He places in your heart. Whether He says stay or go, the answer is the same: “Yes, Lord.”

Bearing God’s Presence


In Israel’s history, the Ark of the Covenant symbolized the presence of God among His people. Where the Ark went, God’s presence went. When the Ark moved, the people moved. When it remained, they remained.

The Ark bearers didn’t move randomly, and they weren’t choosing their own direction, but they were responding to God’s leading. Their movement or their stillness signaled something about God’s presence and favor to those around them.

Sometimes, when The Ark remained somewhere, blessing followed (). Not because the people of that place earned something, but because the presence of God lingered there, bringing visible change. At other times, God’s presence departed, and that departure itself carried significant weight.

This was the desperate cry of a woman who understood that the loss of God’s manifest presence was the worst disaster that could befall a people. Worse than military defeat. Worse than political ruin. The glory was gone.

Jumping back to the New Testament, things get personal. Under the new covenant, believers themselves become living temples of God.

The ancient Greek word translated “sanctuary” here doesn’t refer to the broader temple complex or the outer courts, but it specifically means the inner sanctuary, The Holy of Holies, where God’s very presence dwelt! Let that sink in. You aren’t the courtyard. You aren’t the outer gate. You are The Most Holy Place. God’s Spirit lives in that part of you.

So, sometimes when God calls believers to be somewhere, we aren’t merely visiting. We may be called to remain somewhere because, symbolically, God desires to demonstrate that His blessing and glory remain there.

Their remaining in a place was itself part of the witness. It represented the presence of God lingering in a place through His people. But sometimes the opposite is true. God leads His servants to withdraw when a place continually rejects the message.

Shaking off the dust comes from a symbolic Jewish action, where faithful Jews would sometimes shake the dust off their feet when leaving pagan regions. It was a way of saying, “I’m not carrying this with me.” In this passage, shaking off the dust symbolized that the messengers had fulfilled their responsibility. We may be called to leave somewhere because, symbolically, God desires to demonstrate that His blessing and glory won’t remain there.

Just as the Ark bearers in the Old Testament followed God’s leading, sometimes staying and sometimes moving, disciples carry God’s presence into the places He sends them. That can mean faithfully remaining for years, or it can mean recognizing when a season is finished and then moving on. In both cases, the disciple’s life becomes a signpost pointing to God’s presence and His purposes.

In a similar way, Paul describes believers as carrying a fragrance—the knowledge of Christ—into every place we go. Not through clever arguments, but through the reality of God’s presence dwelling within us. Whether others find that fragrance pleasing or repulsive is representative of their heart toward God.

The Disciple Cycle


Many people imagine discipleship as a classroom-based program. The teacher speaks, students listen, and growth happens. Sure, that’s part of the picture, but discipleship is more than that.

When Jesus discipled His followers, He “did life” with them. Of course they learned as they went, but more importantly, He modeled a faithful life (), He lived fully surrendered (), He entrusted them with responsibility (). Jesus invested deeply in twelve men, who invested in others, who also invested in others. And here we are two thousand years later, with people still talking about it on the other end of the globe.

The disciples that Jesus sent out were still learning along the way. Their understanding was incomplete, their faith was still developing, and yet Jesus chose to involve them anyway. Responsibility was not the reward at the end of their training, but it was part of the training itself. This example shows us that while not everyone preaches from a pulpit or teaches from the front of a classroom, everyone moves the cycle forward.

Four spiritual generations of faith transfer in a single sentence. Even in this, the key word here is “entrust.” Timothy was entrusted with the things he heard along the way, and he was told to entrust those things to others. That’s the model. Not institutions or programs, but people pouring whatever God gave them over the years into other people.

This chain didn’t start with Timothy either. The Apostles likely led Barnabas to faith in Christ (). Then Barnabas invested in Paul when nobody else would go near him, even vouching for the former persecutor (). Paul later invested in Timothy, Titus, Silas, and countless others. Then Timothy invested in the church at Ephesus. Each link in the chain only existed because someone before them was willing to pass on what they’d received. The commission isn’t second-hand. It’s the very same mission, passed forward generation by generation.

Being sent ultimately includes helping others follow Christ. Disciples reproduce by teaching, mentoring, encouraging, and walking with others in their faith journey. This doesn’t require a seminary degree or a formal title. It only requires the willingness to share what God has done in your life.

There’s also a shared responsibility of relationship, where each person is both receiving and giving, being strengthened and strengthening others. This is where discipleship shifts from something we experience to something we participate in. Encouragement, challenge, and love don’t just happen passively; they are cultivated. The discipleship cycle continues when believers take the time to notice, to speak life, and to call one another forward into what God is doing. When disciples live this way, they don’t just grow individually, but the entire community is built up.

Chapter Resources


Concentric Circles of Concern: Seven Stages for Making Disciples by W. Oscar Thompson takes the ripple-outward pattern of and applies it to everyday relationships with remarkable clarity. Thompson makes the case that the most effective witness begins with the people closest to you—your immediate family, your friends, your associates—and expands outward from there. It’s a practical and inviting guide for living as a sent person, emphasizing that the harvest is near to wherever God places you.

A prayer:

The Workbook


The free Discipleship companion workbook PDF has thought-provoking questions, relatable activities, and practical exercises for making it real. Like the book, the workbook is designed to be revisited, so you can see how God is working in you over time.