discipline

Nobody volunteers for discipline, but everyone wants it.

When someone says, “She’s disciplined,” that’s a compliment. Discipline is an enviable character trait; I’ve summarized it before simply as the ability to say no to yourself. Discipline is the strength to do the good things we don’t want to, and to deny ourselves the bad things that we want. Discipline goes hand in hand with high achievement, because it focuses and leverages our strengths.

When someone says, “I need to discipline you,” that’s a bad thing. None of us wants that. Discipline at the hands of someone else feels like punishment. In fact, it may be that the only difference between the two is how much the person doing it cares about you.

But the fact is, you can’t be a disciplined person without sometimes having someone discipline you, and without routinely disciplining yourself.

Hebrews 12 discusses the correction our earthly fathers give us and contrasts it with God. Look at this, from verses 10 and 11: “They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

There’s a significant difference between discipline as understood by most people and discipline as described by the author of Hebrews. We think of discipline as correction or self-correction that enables us to achieve. But God’s discipline is a paring away of harmful behaviors intended to make us more holy. Discipline as our culture understands it helps us get promoted or lose weight. God’s discipline gives us righteousness and peace. 

That changes things. Nobody volunteers for discipline, but I might raise my hand to an offer of more righteousness and peace.