It was the smell of the toaster waffles that drew me in. This was the late 1980s and my dad was the pastor of our church, so attendance was obligatory.
Fortunately, I liked being there. I loved hearing my dad preach, even when he was asking my sister and me to stop talking from the pulpit of his small Methodist church in Towson, Maryland. We served in every capacity, from giving the announcements to singing in the choir to standing with the ushers. Raised in collective praise, we learned to honor God guided by wise elders and respected deacons.
But I was drawn to Sunday school by the appeal of the toaster waffles.
Every Sunday my family was the first to arrive, turning on the lights and readying the pews to receive worshipers. My dad would situate himself close to the altar as the first Sunday school attendees began to trickle in. While he always thoroughly prepared for the sermons, his passion came from teaching this class.
My sister and I headed to the basement for youth Sunday school with Mrs. Kathy, the church’s kindest woman. We would never see her come in, but we could smell when she was ready. Those morsels of yellow toasted love would be waiting for us on paper plates. After praying over our food, we would dive in with conversation, talking about what we looked forward to in school, what worried us about upcoming tests, and what friends were doing for fun.
Whether there were three or eight of us in the class, we’d always have seconds and then turn our attention to the lesson. Mrs. Kathy gently led us through Bible stories about loving others and taking responsibility. We’d draw pictures with animals from Scripture and play games with Bible names. At the end of our time, which always brought a little sadness, we’d close in “popcorn prayer,” bouncing among each other with whispered prayers to God as we prepared for service.
As a child, I thought the best part about church was the Sunday school food. As an adult, I realized that this small indulgence set the stage for a multisensory experience of discipleship. It was my earliest memory of structured church teaching and one of the few opportunities I had to learn from other Christians. The meager breakfast didn’t save me or lead me into the knowledge of Christ, but it was part of an intentional engagement that gave me something to look forward to.
With deep care for her students and a willingness to connect with them where they were, Mrs. Kathy created a bond with us that made room for real conversations. These early memories make me so grateful for the intimate community and the dedication of trusted volunteers. Even today, the memory of frozen waffles in the toaster brings thoughts of joy along with an undercurrent of grief for a time that may never be seen again.
In many ways, the waffles became a symbol of a humble community doing the faithful work of discipleship.
Opportunity in the Face of Loss
Sadly, my childhood days of Sunday school are long gone. I cannot help but be filled with nostalgic longing for the time when the church was synonymous with learning. But it’s not just the loss of Sunday school or Mrs. Kathy or the toasty goodness that I grieve. I miss the discipleship that happened in partnership with the worship experience. While this process of intentional Christian maturation is still happening in many spaces, those who choose to emphasize it are doing so in vastly different ways.
If discipleship, at its core, is about seeing people grow in their relationships with Christ, many pastors would argue that the sanctuary pulpit has taken the place of the classroom podium. If people are not willing or able to grow in a group, then preaching must be the way to bridge the gap.
Without organized Christian learning, how can we know what the Bible says? How can we raise our children with resilient faith if there is no place apart from the pulpit or the screen for them to learn?
The lack of processes to develop mature believers has resulted in a spiritual deficit. Without intentional and clear steps to grow in faith, both pastors and congregants miss out. But rather than sit in nostalgia, lament, and grief, we must ask ourselves what it looks like to turn this dire situation into a revival of reimagination. Pastors and leaders have an opportunity to reawaken a love for learning and growing together at a time when we are fractured and in need of wisdom.
Ancient Blueprint, Modern Revival
To effectively revive discipleship, we must remember what it is or why it matters. Fortunately, Scripture provides us with ample incentive not only to retain discipleship but also to reenvision it. The Old Testament bears witness to a God who cherishes being in relationship with his people (Zeph. 3:17). Despite numerous regressions and mistakes, Godrepeatedly promises his presence to guide his people, both physically and spiritually (Josh. 1:5–6, 9). His covenant with his people is initiated by his love for them and grounded in what he says to them by his Word. Outsiders knew who belonged to God by their obedience to his law and their connections within the covenantal community (Deut. 4:6–8).
In the New Testament, the themes of belonging by obedience and belief take on new terms through Jesus. From the coming of the Savior to the establishment of the early church, the New Testament consistently models the intentionality of God’s engagement. When John stated that “the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us,” he emphasized an element of embodiment that shapes what it means to follow Christ (John 1:14).
The early church understood that Jesus came to be with mankind, and, as such, they prioritized communing with God and each other (Acts 2:42). But they didn’t study and serve for their own sakes—they did so because they were commanded to grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus Christ (2 Pet. 3:18). Ultimately, the early disciples were willing to risk their comfort, money, families, affiliations, and even their lives for the sake of the gospel about a real Savior who was on his way back for them.
Quaint Rhythms, Collective Glory
In a world that is infatuated with comfort, it’s hard to imagine making such sacrifices. But following Jesus is a journey full of losses and risks that are backed by eternal purpose and reward. Being a disciple means regularly going beyond what is comfortable to do what does not come naturally: love our enemies, serve the least of these, and work for the glory of God.
If you want to help facilitate discipleship, create spaces for people to work through their faith commitments in the context of community. But these smaller communities must be courageous, because working through faith requires both conviction and consolation, confession and celebration. Within a community, we might discover the key to regaining our sense of wonder is wrapped up in some of the rhythms we are otherwise tempted to view as quaint or impractical.
Regardless of how and where these spaces are created—in the church or in homes, in groups of two or three or in groups of 200, online or in person—the goal is to design ways for people to encounter God for collective maturity and growth. Maybe it comes back to that circular toasted miracle of happiness. After all, people have been drawn in by far less than a toaster waffle.
Or perhaps it will be less about what you offer and more about where you offer it. Your next discipleship group might take place on the bleachers before parents cheer for the game. Maybe it will be at the local coffee shop, in your home, or over Zoom on a Tuesday after everyone gets off work. While the means of discipleship may change, the mandate to make disciples never will.
Engage people in God’s Word in community with others. Do not let the multiplicity of resources intimidate you. Don’t be put off by low numbers or overwhelmed by training volunteers. While the risk of following God can be a challenge, our willingness to remember and reimagine discipleship on a regular basis will give us a glimpse of the eternal glory that makes it all worthwhile.
Nicole Massie Martin, chief impact officer at Christianity Today, brings a unique blend of pastoral experience and trauma-healing expertise to her role. Her passion for faith and transformative leadership stems from years on the front lines, guiding individuals and communities toward wholeness. Prior to joining CT, Nicole served as the senior vice president of ministry impact at the American Bible Society. Overseeing various international and domestic ministries, including trauma healing, honed her skills in using Scripture to foster renewal and equipped her with a deep understanding of the human spirit’s resilience. Now, Nicole guides leaders to navigate complex challenges with wisdom and compassion, ultimately helping them build flourishing communities rooted in faith.
