Intellectual Discipleship

Christian congregations need intellectuals and intellectuals need Christian community, but a century of animosity between church and academy, exacerbated by polarization and politicization, has left both churches and intellectuals worse off. Christians are called to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”[1] What does it mean to love the Lord and others with one’s mind? While a sufficient answer is beyond the scope of this essay, a recovery of intellectual discipleship is a step toward restoring the church to its central role in cultural and civic renewal. 

Churches and the Intellectuals 

The moniker intellectual, however, does not always elicit positive images or feelings. It seems synonymous with “impractical, useless, unfeeling, and boring.” An intellectual is, in this reading, someone who possesses a wealth of “book smarts” but has only a precarious grasp on the “real world” of everyday people and problems. Among Christians, especially evangelical Protestants, the intellectual is often unwelcome and suspect. As Dallas Willard in his provocative 1999 article “Jesus the Logician” observed, Christians are uncomfortable attaching “intellectual” adjectives to Jesus especially. 

There is in our culture an uneasy relation between Jesus and intelligence, and I have actually heard Christians respond to my statement that Jesus is the most intelligent man who ever lived by saying that it is an oxymoron. Today we automatically position him away from (or even in opposition to) the intellect and intellectual life.[2]  

This disposition is hardly surprising when some of the most prominent intellectuals seem to be the kind of people who can talk themselves into anything, no matter how heretical. They’re the experts who conveniently affirm some political or popular narrative—at least until some other expert with different allegiances contradicts them. They lead college students away from the faith and arrogantly subject the Bible and the Christian tradition to critical criteria devoid of reverence and belief (this seems to be the case regardless of their institution’s religious affiliation). Such a reputation may characterize some of the more nefarious intellectuals, who thrive on their opposition to tradition and faith. Indeed, I have met more than a few academics—at secular and nonsecular institutions—who take pride in the nihilism they inspire. If that were the whole story, calling Jesus “smart” or “intellectual” would be offensive and heretical.   

Most intellectuals do not fit this objectionable mold. An intellectual is minimally, at best, someone who seeks, shares, and loves the truth, but many of them suffer from unintended and undeserved obscurity. As a mentor once said to me (speaking of me as an intellectual), “the problem is that you have answers to questions no one is asking.”  The Christian intellectual especially seems to be like one without a home, isolated within his own congregation (if he even has one) and academic department; he is hampered in trying to meaningfully contribute to society or his own discipline. The intellectual may, at best, become a glorified credit salesman for the modern behemoth of the bureaucratic university. At worst, she abandons her intellectual pursuits entirely in favor of whatever her family and neighbors consider more “useful.” She may have the opportunity to read and write, but only in the margins of her life. 

Anti-intellectualism is not new in the history of the Church, but it has been elevated within American Christianity for well over a century. Hostility toward religion among intellectuals is even older, dating to at least the Renaissance, if not much earlier. It’s difficult to see how such trends benefit anyone.  

On the one hand, a church disconnected from its intellectual tradition is poorly prepared to identify heresy and will likely chafe in the face of challenging questions about identity, theology, science, epistemology, and so on. If it ignores its historical and cultural context, it will struggle to speak truth to and lovingly serve the place to which it has been called. Anti-intellectual churches, in other words, risk offering a superficial and unstable religion to a world starving for depth, authenticity, and stability.  

On the other hand, intellectuals without a church find themselves isolated and discouraged, susceptible to pride, ideology, and abstractions that merely reinforce their reputation and render them unable to communicate with communities beyond their academic specialization. Isolated and unchurched intellectuals quickly become despondent and spiritually desiccated, emotionally closed off and vulnerable to all manner of sin, cowardice, and doubt.  

There is nothing inherent in the intellectual life or the life of the Christian community that renders inevitable a conflict between the Church and the scholar. But without a notion of intellectual discipleship, we may lack the requisite vocabulary for articulating a resolution.   

What is Intellectual Discipleship? 

It is not primarily through intellectual pursuits that disciples are made, and this is one major reason why intellectuals desperately need to be part of a Christian community. Simply having a grasp of key philosophical and theological truths does not make one a disciple. Our very hearts and imaginations must be baptized, healed, and renewed through spiritual discipline and sacraments. We must learn to love, serve, pray, and live in a manner that brings glory and honor to Christ. This is what a broader understanding of Christian formation and discipleship seeks to produce: individuals whose actions and love for one another reflect, in John Mark Comer’s words, their “apprenticeship” to Jesus.[3] They are the kind of people who prioritize their time, talent, and treasure in a way that demonstrates a deep, deep love of Christ and His Church.  

Intellectual discipleship supplements all this by leading us to imagine, reason, and write as individuals who have “been with Jesus.” This is different than simply being well-versed in the classics of Christian thought, doctrine, and history—an aspiration I would never discourage. Intellectual discipleship is not guided by how well one might do on a theology exam or in a Bible Bowl. Intellectual discipleship is an intentional surrender of one’s will, imagination, and reason to the Holy Spirit and in service to the Church. Through scholarship, reading, learning, teaching, research, and related pursuits the Christian’s intellect is baptized in an encounter with the person of Jesus Christ and oriented toward those eternal truths conducive to a life well-lived and a free and virtuous society. Learned writers like C. S. Lewis, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Karol Wojtyła, and Dallas Willard serve as exemplars here. In sum, a Christian intellectual disciple is one who seeks to learn, live, and share the truth for the glory of God. 

Making Intellectual Disciples  

Monastic traditions have recognized the importance of such discipleship for centuries, preserving the best of the human tradition—West and East—while pursuing God’s truth in all things. Indeed, it is hard to overstate the importance of monasticism in preserving the classical and Christian traditions on which the most salutary aspects of modern civilization are built. These practices eventually gave rise to universities as one means by which to preserve such traditions and intellectual inheritance. Yet we need not be monks or professors to grow in intellectual discipleship. It’s something all Christians can participate in.  

Intellectual discipleship can be challenging for any church. Intellectuals capable of facilitating reading groups and classes, for example, often eschew church life. Pastors and priests may be knowledgeable enough to lead intellectually, but they seldom have the proverbial bandwidth to do it well beyond a weekly homily. Their lives are often consumed by administrative minutiae, especially as churches lose the financial ability to employ staff, and they also necessarily need to attend to matters of worship, sacrament, pastoral concerns, and prayer. This is not a criticism of clergy, to be sure, but it is a recognition that they need a well-qualified and Holy Spirit–directed hand in shaping the minds and imaginations of their congregations.  

It is here that a tremendous opportunity emerges for Christian scholars and teachers to serve the church and inspire much-needed cultural and spiritual renewal; and the stakes could not be higher, especially for younger generations tempted daily by new forms of Gnosticism and ideology. Like it or not, someone is going to shape the moral and spiritual imagination of our children and grandchildren, and someone will inform their intellectual formation. Would you rather such responsibility be in the hands of YouTube and government schools or the Church and families?  

What intellectual discipleship looks like practically is difficult to generalize since different communities will necessarily have contrasting needs and questions. Reading groups and short courses may be appropriate, or one might consider developing mentorship or tutoring programs. We ought to prayerfully reflect on what kinds of questions and struggles our particular churches and communities deal with. How might such reflection reveal opportunities for learning and discussion? How well do we know the history and culture of the community in which our church serves? Such knowledge is invaluable for discerning what to add to any prayer ministry.  

It’s important to note as well that the intellectual’s primary contribution to discipleship in the congregation is likely not in her specialty or discipline; rather, it’s in her facility and love for learning itself. To be an intellectual is to not only possess some knowledge but also have a firm grasp on how to know and to know the limits of that knowledge. The well-formed intellectual is neither a nihilist who has given up hope of knowing truth nor the one “dropping the mic” and obliterating counterarguments with witty assertions. The Christian intellectual especially must be distinguished by her generosity and humility, not by her despair or capacity for intimidation.  

The Christian intellectual serving as teacher and scholar within a church must also recognize his proper place. He is not (usually) a pastor or priest, and proper humility under clerical authority and direction is needed. The intellectual is accountable to her tradition, church discipline, and doctrine. While free inquiry and academic liberty is needed for such discipleship, it must be handled with the utmost care, compassion, and reverence. Remember that not everyone is prepared for every question, counterargument, or challenge. The more deeply we know the people of our congregation, the greater our capacity for prudence in matters of the mind.  

Finally, if an intellectual encounters the characteristic suspicion and hostility toward the life of the mind, he must avoid becoming defensive or dismissive. Prayerfully and humbly ask why such a disposition exists. Is there something in the congregation’s history that may give us insight? Is there genuine pain beneath the opposition? Indeed, having served in multiple churches and now working for one, I am astonished by how many pathologies of the common Christian life are caused by unhelpful responses to genuine pain. This is likely true of the individual intellectual as much as it is of the congregation’s members. Confronting that reality with love and truth is far healthier than running from it. 

“Bigger Christians” 

Despite my best efforts, I cannot find more than a few obscure instances of the phrase “intellectual discipleship” being used publicly. Yet, given the historical suspicion shared between churches and intellectuals, it’s hardly surprising. If one hopes for churches that are less superficial and intellectuals who are more deeply Christian, though, then such discipleship takes on a new urgency. It may first be necessary, however, for many Christian churches to think more carefully and critically about the “ecclesiology” they have seemingly stumbled into. 

Churches of all denominations in the Western world are declining, in part, because they have become increasingly superficial, transforming into therapeutic support groups and becoming less like the body of Christ.[4] These churches are easily led astray by cultural and political pressures from both the right and the left, pursuing “relevance,” entertainment, and political influence over faithfulness. These are the kind of churches—or whole denominations—that want to please everyone other than the God of the Holy Bible. Congregations that desire a deeper and more biblical spiritual life rooted in Christian tradition would do well to recall the words of Dallas Willard in The Divine Conspiracy:  

The appeal and power of Jesus’ call to the kingdom and discipleship is great, and people generally, of every type and background, will respond favorably if that call is only presented with directness, generosity of spirit, intelligence, and love, trusting God alone for the outcome. We may not soon have bigger crowds around us—and in fact they may for a while even get smaller—but we will soon have bigger Christians for sure. This is what I call “church growth for those who hate it.” And bigger crowds are sure to follow, for the simple reason that human beings desperately need what we bring to them, the word and reality of The Kingdom Among Us.[5]

Intellectual discipleship is only one part of cultivating “bigger Christians.” Today, many churches operate on an ecclesiology of numbers, believing that quality programs and personalities will build the church. But marketing and a striving for relevance cannot foster bigger Christians—the kind of Christians whose love, imagination, and disposition attract others to the church in spite of their innumerable flaws. There is a need for churches built not only on Christ, the Word, and sacraments but also on emotionally healthy relationships and intentional spiritual and intellectual formation.  The “numbers game” is in God’s hands anyway, as Psalm 127:1 (ESV) reads:  

Unless the LORD builds the house, 

    those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

    the watchman stays awake in vain. 

The church grows by the grace of God and by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is not through our cleverness and image management that congregations grow but by the Lord’s response to faithfulness and humility before Him. We are disciples who are called to make disciples, but the “house” to be built is beyond our ability to finish. Let us surrender our anxious striving and pride, believing that “he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”[6] This is how we get Willard’s “bigger Christians.” They may finally see less of us and more of Christ in us.   

Another way to describe “bigger Christians” is to see them as individuals who have clearly spent time with Jesus. Acts 4:13 (ESV) reads, “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus.” To be recognized as someone who has “been with Jesus” ought to be the intention of every Christian. As the apostles will tell you, of course, such identification is quite the liability. To be recognized as someone who has “been with Jesus” may cost you your life, but it may also draw others to the knowledge and love of God. It is a burden worth carrying. 

Scholars in the Pews 

Christians have inherited the Great Commission of Jesus found in Matthew 28:18–20 (ESV): “And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” 

Notice not only that “teaching” is a key piece of this but also that our faithfulness to this commission is not measured in the creation of revenue, relevance, political power, or popularity. We are called to make disciples: men and women recognized for having “been with Jesus.”  

Intellectual discipleship, however, ought not be confined to what the scholar or teacher gives in the form of instruction, tutoring, and course content. Christian scholars often need more support to be scholars: to have the space, energy, and resources to research and write. Historically, the Church has been the greatest patron of scholarship in the world—it is the Christian tradition that created and continues to support thousands of universities and schools around the globe. Over the past two centuries, however, that role has either been forfeited to or taken over by the state and wealthy elites who have rejected not only Christianity but also the very notion of truth. To be sure, there are universities and schools that are exceptions to this trend, but they are now the minority.  

Christians committed to intellectual discipleship, as I see it, have two broadly construed options for course correction, and both will be required in the days ahead. The first is to invest in institutions and scholars directly to advance what James M. Patterson called his 2024 Law and Liberty article: “The Economy of University Prestige.” Rather than treating educational institutions as part of a service industry selling credits to “consumer-students,” a better model is one run by what Patterson calls the “New Dealers.”  I would prefer a different label, but he explains that these “New Dealers focus on” creating institutions where “education is formation, and students are investments, administrators [are] patronage appointments, and faculty [are] the face of the institution. Under this model, donors are the primary source of income.”[7] By changing the underlying system of incentives, income, image, and investment, the “New Dealers” foster prestige that attracts more motivated students and elevates campus culture. These factors, along with added resources, will inspire faculty to higher and more ambitious scholarly pursuits. While “prestigious” for progressives and secularists will not mean the same as “prestigious” for Christians and conservatives, there is too little investment in the latter. Wealthy individuals with the means to do so could bring a considerable amount of hope to many families and faculty by simply funding rigorous academic programs that take faith and tradition seriously.  

The credit-selling warehouse model of education has sacrificed prestige and genuine learning for shrinking bottom lines and superficial, ideological agendas. This decline is furthered by insultingly low salaries and dismal overall support for faculty. What is often unrecognized by the donor class is that there is a veritable army of highly educated Christians and conservatives across the US and Europe who merely need the financial freedom and space—along with protection and refuge from hostile disciplines, journals, and professional associations—to build (or rebuild) the serious and prestigious institutions of education that have done so much to sustain human civilization. Our work and institutions may not be viewed favorably by the secular progressives who dominate higher education, media, and government today, but Christians are not called to the life of the mind to impress anyone. We are called to love and serve those who hate and mock everything we believe in, but we are not called to follow their lead. 

Indeed, while Patterson’s alternative is more practicable and his argument that prestige remains a necessary piece of institution building is true, his proposal cannot be the final word. Scripture is full of warnings that times will come when Christians simply won’t be able to expect material and physical security, let alone the luxury of prestige. For Christians in many parts of the world, this is already true, and while American Christians’ persecution narrative is oversold at times, a more hostile context is easy to imagine. Our enemies—who we love and pray for—may one day tire of simply using lawsuits, legislation, “Twitter mobs,” socioeconomic pressure, and deplatforming.  

In other words, if intellectual discipleship is to become part of the Church’s life and culture, it must be practiced in a manner that serves Christ whether congregations find themselves under persecution or prosperity, in peace or war, in feast or famine. We must be prepared to receive the Word and the sacraments in catacombs or cathedrals, and we must also be ready to continue learning and growing intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually in any context.   

This leads us to the second option for renewed intellectual discipleship, of which I must only speak in general terms. It is an area ripe for entrepreneurship and worthy of great investment. It is reconceiving individual local churches and congregations, in part, as scholarly institutions. While there has been some renewed attention to the idea of pastor-theologians along this same vein, why not view the church as a platform or venue from which serious scholarship originates? What if the author of a groundbreaking scientific study or the translator of newly discovered ancient text is not primarily affiliated with a university but is simply a fellow in one’s local congregation or parish? 

A well-meaning skeptic would respond immediately by noting obstacles of cost and culture. Churches are shrinking and closing. Many—if not most—can barely afford a full-time pastor or priest, let alone a resident fellow of Church history or sociology or access to online libraries or lab equipment. This is an opportunity for nonprofits and parachurch ministries to respond with their resources and expertise. Partnerships between individual churches and sympathetic intellectual societies could help offset the administrative and financial challenges of church-based scholars. Leaving the selection of the individual scholar to the church itself could also help allay concerns about pastoral authority or unwelcome external influence.  

The cultural obstacle is difficult and often more intractable. It is simply the case that many congregations and entire denominations will never accept the idea that a church could be a center of cultural and civic renewal, let alone a venue for scholars. Suspicion of intellectuals, a narrowly conceived ecclesiology, and politicization will continue to prevent many congregations from discovering a deeper faith. America is awash in churches across denominations that are miles wide and inches deep. We must pray for them and speak the truth in love. No church has it all together, and we must never forget that.  

But recall the words of Dallas Willard earlier and that need for “bigger Christians.” This is not the stuff of church growth strategies. The goal, rather, is to deepen the well from which the local congregation draws its wisdom and inspiration. It is not emotionally or spiritually healthy to obsess over whether the world outside the church will love and respect Christians. Indeed, if we’re truly following Jesus, we might even expect to be hated.[8] 

These obstacles, then, do not absolve us from the need to pursue truth, goodness, and beauty. There will always be greater depths to plumb, stories to be written and remembered, and truths to be revealed. Days are likely ahead when churches will no longer be able to delegate such tasks to universities. It will then be the burden and blessing of congregations and learned societies to carry on in faithfulness to Christ, out of love for His truth and for one another.  

This burden must not be borne alone, however. R. Albert Mohler Jr., one of the few individuals using the phrase “intellectual discipleship,” writes this about the necessity of community in this pursuit:  

A failure of Christian thinking is a failure of discipleship, for we are called to love God with our minds. We cannot follow Christ faithfully without first thinking as Christians. Furthermore, believers are not to be isolated thinkers who bear this responsibility alone. We are called to be faithful together as we learn intellectual discipleship within the believing community, the church.[9]  

Indeed, while the work of an intellectual necessarily requires the blessings of silence and solitude, no human person can possess all truth. We are far too small. We need others to see and think with us. Congregations and a community of Christian intellectuals can help keep us humble, aware of our limitations, and grounded in our everyday lives. Simply put, we need to be in community to meet the responsibilities that come with being a Christian intellectual, rightly understood. In Psalm 34:3, a passage of both worship and instruction, David writes, “Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together!”[10] Worshipping God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength[11] is a qualitatively different experience when done in community. Whatever form intellectual discipleship takes, it must be done in fellowship with one another. 

Furthermore, discipleship in community helps guard the intellectual against selfishness. As with all aspects of Christian formation and life, we are “blessed to bless others,” as the saying goes. The intellectual does this by sharing the truth and the search for it with others in love. St. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) writes the following:    

There are many who seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge: that is curiosity. There are others who desire to know in order that they may be known: that is vanity. Others seek knowledge in order to sell it: that is dishonorable. But there are some who seek knowledge in order to edify others: that is love [caritas].[12] 

There will always be a need for “bigger Christians” like St. Bernard, and by God’s grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, we will know more of them. In the meantime, let us pray that such caritas inspires, informs, and colors the lives of Christian intellectuals and their congregations in the days ahead.

[1] Mark 12:30 (ESV).

[2] Dallas Willard, “Jesus the Logician,” Christian Scholar’s Review 28, no. 4 (1999), 605–14, https://dwillard.org/resources/articles/jesus-the-logician.  

[3] John Mark Comer, Practicing the Way: Be With Jesus. Become Like Him. Do As He Did. (WaterBrook: 2024). 

[4] Romans 12:5; 1 Corinthians 12:12–27. 

[5] Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy: Rediscovering Our Hidden Life in God (HarperCollins, 1998), 372–373.

[6] Philippians 1:6 (ESV).

[7] James M. Patterson, “The Economy of University Prestige,” Law & Liberty, January 10, 2024, https://lawliberty.org/the-economy-of-university-prestige/. 

[8] Matthew 10; John 15.

[9] R. Albert Mohler Jr., “Intellectual Discipleship? Faithful Thinking for Faithful Living,” Albert Mohler, January 24, 2024, https://albertmohler.com/2014/01/24/intellectual-discipleship-faithful-thinking-for-faithful-living/.

[10] (ESV), emphasis added.

[11] Mark 12:29 (ESV).

[12] Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, Sermon XXXVI, in Sermones in Cantica Canticorum (Libraria Academica Wagneriana,1888), 319, Haithi Trust, https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=hvd.32044021130075&seq=8. 

The Latin is as follows: 

Sunt namque qui scire volunt eo fine tantum, ut sciant: et turpis curiositas est. Et sunt qui scire volunt, ut sciantur ipsi: et turpis vanitas est. Qui profecto non evadent subsanantem satyricum et ei, qui ejusmodi est, decantantem: Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter.  

  Et sunt item qui scire volunt, ut scientiam suam vendant, verbi causa, pro pecunia, pro honoribus: et turpis quaestus est. Sed sunt quoque qui scire volunt, ut aedificent: et caritas est. Et item qui scire volunt, ut aedificentur: et prudentia est. 

My good friend, Katherine L. Bradshaw, helped me translate it more carefully to the following: 

 Some seek knowledge just for the sake of knowing. That is shameful curiosity. And some seek knowledge to get fame. That is shameful vanity. Such people certainly will not escape the mockery of the satirist [Persius], who wrote about someone like that, ‘Is your knowledge nothing unless someone else knows that you know it?’ 

 And some seek knowledge to sell that knowledge for money, honors, and such things. That is shameful profit-making. But some seek knowledge so they can edify others. That is love [caritas]. And likewise some seek knowledge so they can be edified. That is prudence.