Canter Bridge

A reflection offered upon invitation to Mesa Global staff, 12 January 2026

I found it interesting that Paul Johnson asked me to share on this topic, since I turned 67 yesterday. Now you might ask, ‘Well what does Paul’s invitation to David have to do with a birthday?’ And Rilla will be saying to herself, ‘He always makes it about him…’

At this age, I find myself thinking constantly *beyond doing* and *towards passing on*. I find that I live scanning the horizon for next-gen folks who can carry on whatever it is that is meaningful in my own calling. I’m not saying this ‘search for disciples’ is a 24-7 thing, but it’s pretty constant.

So our Mesa Global value of ‘infusing training in all we do’ is an organizational commitmental that happens to play nicely in the sandbox alongside my personal life stage.

Now I have the privilege of leading Mesa Scholars and I understand myself as a pastor-scholar called to shepherd in the spaces of academic communities. But I really hope that my words today will be as relevant to Mesa Global colleagues who are not educators as they are to me and to others whose very calling requires training in an academic way.

Now, about that word: training.

Some of you will know that I have a long-running battle with the predominance of that word in educational settings and in our Mesa Global universe. I fear the word ‘training’ is almost too reductionistic to be redeemed. I fear that in too many minds, it boils what we’re about down to the mere tranference of skills and how-to’s. And I shudder to think that merely teaching skills—many of which will be obsolete next year or next week— would ever be considered our focus. 

But I also know that I’m losing that personal battle with the word in spectacular fashion. So I’m going to use the word without whining too much about it. I’m also going to assume that we’re all aware that infusing training into everything we do goes waaaaay beyond the mere transfer of skills or—God forbid—of information. We’re talking about forming other human beings to be the best in service of God and his world as they can be.

Here is what I believe infusing training in all we do invites us to do:

Take who I am … and what I know … and the things I do … and offer them as a gift to the person beside me.

I remember the day back in college when I realized that in the New Testament the word ‘disciple’ in Greek means quite literally one who is learning … or a learner (μανθάνων). And then Jesus, in his generous dealings with us, almost immediately surrounds us with other μανθάνοντες—other people who are also learning—and asks us to disciple them.

In more recent decades, I discovered that the Old Testament and the communities formed by it also use a teaching-earning word—תלמיד—to label a disciple. He or she is a learner or one who is being taught.

At some moment in  the past decade, I got over the awkwardness of imagining that I have disciples. Now I just taking having disciples—and knowing that t hey look to me for models of service that they can imitate—as a normal feature of God’s providence. In that spirit, I invite you to shed any awkwardness you might feel about having disciples as you consider what it might mean to infuse training in all that you do.

So take a deep breath and ask yourself, in the Spirit’s empowering presence:

What is there in who I am … or what I know … or the things I do … that I can offer as a gift to the person beside me?

For discussion in small groups:

• Identify one facet of who you, one thing you know, or something you do that you have never seen as availble for the formation of the person beside you.
• What single move would you need to make in order to infuse that thing into your day-to-day labors/rhythms?

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