A woman goes to a well at noon. She has a complicated past. She meets Jesus. They talk for maybe an hour. Then she leaves her water jar sitting there, goes back into town, and tells everyone, “Come, see a man who told me all that I ever did” (John 4:29).
That’s one of the first evangelists in the Gospels. No title. No training. No membership class. She’d known Jesus for about an hour.
I bring her up because a lot of Christians quietly assume that investing in someone else’s faith is a job for professionals. If you’ve ever wondered how to disciple someone when you’re not a pastor, not a group leader, and not sure you know enough, start with her. The bar is lower than you think, and higher than you think, in all the right ways.
The bar is intention, not size
At our church, Living Faith, we call this step investing: intentionally helping at least one other person walk the road you’re walking. We think of it as the fullest expression of maturity. Maturity isn’t how much you know. It’s a disciple making disciples.
In most areas of life we already believe that. We don’t call someone a master craftsman because they’ve watched a lot of videos. We call them a master when they can train an apprentice.
But notice the operative word: intentionally, not impressively. It doesn’t need to be a big group. Meeting one younger believer for coffee every other week, reading the Bible with them, praying for them by name, and asking them real questions is fully, completely this step.
A church where every maturing believer invests in one person will outgrow and outlast any church built around a celebrity up front.
What it looks like in an ordinary week
One of our elders described his own version, and it’s worth hearing because none of it is glamorous.
He starts with his kids. “I want them to catch that I’m most excited about Jesus, not just be taught things about the Bible.” Then his wife: they keep a weekly question sheet so they can help each other follow Jesus. Then a handful of men he meets one-on-one, including one who doesn’t go to church at all. Then the groups he leads, which he prays for before he arrives.
None of that required a stage. All of it was on purpose.
A simple rhythm for discipling one person
If you want a starting shape, here’s one that works:
- Pick one person. Pray about the name before you ask. It might be someone newer to faith, or an honest skeptic.
- Set a rhythm. Every other week is plenty. Coffee, lunch, a walk, a drive to the hardware store.
- Open the Bible together. Read a short passage. Ask, “What does this say? What does it mean for this week?”
- Ask real questions. “How are you actually doing with God?” “Where are you struggling?” “What’s your next step?”
- Pray for them by name. In the meeting and between meetings.
- Bring them into the rest of church life. Worship, a small group, a place to serve. You’re not their whole discipleship. You’re their friend on the path.
And be honest about your own struggles. Which brings up one caution.
Log before speck
Jesus said to take the log out of your own eye before you help your brother with the speck in his (Matthew 7:3–5). That doesn’t mean you have to be perfect before you invest in anyone. It means you go first in honesty. The person you’re discipling should see you dealing with your own sin, not just pointing at theirs.
The elders at our church meet weekly, and each week one of them takes “the chair” and is asked, “Do you have any unconfessed sin?” One of them says knowing that question is coming motivates him all week. That’s the posture: not perfection, but practice. (If you want more on that kind of honest reporting, I wrote a whole book about it, Giving Account.)
What we look for, and what we don’t
If you’re thinking, I could never do this, look at what actually matters.
Paul’s qualifications for church leaders in Titus 1 are almost entirely about character: above reproach, faithful at home, not arrogant, not quick-tempered, hospitable, self-controlled. Nothing about charisma or talent. Competence can be trained. Character has to be grown.
For day-to-day serving and leading, we watch for three habits we call F.A.T.: Flexible, Available, Teachable. Willing to do what needs doing. Showing up consistently, even when it costs. Able to say “I don’t know” and be corrected. None of those are gifts. Every one is a decision.
Age isn’t on the list, either. Our youngest elder was ordained in his mid-twenties. Today he leads a small group where most of the members are in their fifties, sixties, and seventies.
One sentence can change a life
The same young elder can point to older men who met with him one-on-one, getting sin and faith out into the open. He remembers one conversation where an older man looked at him and said, in effect, you obviously love this girl; you should marry her. He did. And he says that’s when his fight against sin got serious, because now he wanted to love his wife the way Christ loves the church.
That’s what investing does. It hands a person a reason bigger than themselves.
Or think about the kid whose handprint is in the concrete at our church’s garage. He showed up at twelve holding flashlights. Mentors took him seriously and trusted him with a little more each year. Six years later he was leading the pre-work devotions. Nobody gave him a title. He was apprenticed into one.
Your next step
If you’re newer to faith, your step is simple: ask someone further along, “Would you meet with me?” You’re handing them a gift. You’re their next step.
If you’ve followed Jesus for a while and nobody is on the receiving end of your intentional investment, pray about one name this week. Then make the ask.
This comes from the last part of Living the Lord’s Prayer, where the path ends by turning around to help the next person up. Somewhere near you is someone whose faith is just starting. Go be their first step.