The cost of discipleship can be great, but Jesus told us that ahead of time. “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). Jesus’s words are about allegiance. He doesn’t actually want you to hate your family. Those words in Luke 14:26 are hyperbolic to make a larger point about allegiance. True disciples of Jesus are devoted, above all, to Jesus.

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There are different reasons why people turn from truth to error. One such reason is found in Deuteronomy 13. In the context of that chapter, Moses is warning the Israelites about the kinds of people who will seek to steer them away from true worship and into error and idolatry.
Deuteronomy 13:1–5 is about a false “prophet” or “dreamer” who leads people astray. Deuteronomy 13:12–18 is about a whole town plunging into idolatry. The middle section of the chapter, and the one I’m interested in for our purposes, is Deuteronomy 13:6–11. Take a look at that text.
6 “If your brother, the son of your mother, or your son or your daughter or the wife you embrace or your friend who is as your own soul entices you secretly, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which neither you nor your fathers have known, 7 some of the gods of the peoples who are around you, whether near you or far off from you, from the one end of the earth to the other, 8 you shall not yield to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him, nor shall you conceal him. 9 But you shall kill him. Your hand shall be first against him to put him to death, and afterward the hand of all the people. 10 You shall stone him to death with stones, because he sought to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 11 And all Israel shall hear and fear and never again do any such wickedness as this among you.”
Strong words, I know. Though we’re not under the Sinai Covenant, and though the civil penalties (in this case, stoning) don’t overlap with the New Covenant community, there is a lesson about faithfulness that we need to discern.
In Deuteronomy 13:6–11, the danger of turning to error is due to a snare that feels close to home—and may even be in the home.
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It’s not enough to know what is good and what is true; we must come to love what is good and love what is true. We are now in the realm of the affections, and suddenly the parenting terrain is vast and the task before us utterly daunting. For now we will no longer be satisfied with filling our children’s heads with the information they’ll need to be able to succeed, but we will be aiming at something more profound and therefore more difficult: cultivating knowledge and virtue, right thinking and right feeling, understanding and desires.

My friend said something to me over breakfast that has been rattling around my old cerebrum ever since. We were talking about how different generations have approached raising Christian children and he said this about the approach of our parents: “It feels like they wanted to teach us only enough theology to sustain a personal spiritual life, and no more.”
We might call this the theologically minimalist approach.
There were plenty of exceptions, but in the broadly evangelical world, I think it was the norm rather than the exception. The important thing was to accept Christ as your personal Lord and Saviour. After that, we had some notions of personal piety like daily quiet time, but not much energy was spent setting a theological foundation or developing a compelling vision of Christian maturity.
I discern something similar in the way evangelical Christians often think and talk about parenting in our own day.
Parenting Minimalism
There seems to be an assumption that, beyond teaching the Bible and the gospel to our kids and praying that they come to saving faith, there isn’t much that would differentiate Christian parenting from non-Christian parenting. The content and pedagogy of their education can be pretty well the same; the books they read and shows they watch and music they listen to can be pretty well the same. In short, their actual cultural formation can be pretty well the same. This is a kind of parenting minimalism that actually makes some sense in a context where the broader culture still has strong vestiges of Christian influence, as was arguably the case until not that long ago. It might not have been ideal, but it seemed like it could work out decently well.
But, to be blunt, those days are well behind us. Even as my own generation, the millennials, was being formed and coming of age in the 1990s and 2000s, it became clear that not all was well. The shaping influence of the broader culture was already militating against the spiritual priorities of our parents. We heard the gospel at church (and perhaps at home), but were being shaped more fundamentally by the priorities of our peer groups, the media we took in, and the education we received.
The result? Millennials left the church at a higher rate than any previous generation.
Christian Paideia
As I started having my own children, I began thinking again about education. But education is not really the word I’m looking for. We have this entrenched modern notion that education is what happens during the school day and it relates to what fills the student’s head. It concerns that secular middle space where mathematics, literacy, and (maybe) history are necessary preconditions for gainful employment. That’s how most people think of education today—that thing you need to get a good job. And many Christians, not knowing any better, adopt this view.
We need a better word than education until it can be rehabilitated. One option is formation, which I’ve already used once or twice in this piece, but the problem with that word is how broadly it can be used for unrelated topics, such as industrial processes. Education is too narrow, formation a bit too broad, so let’s just reach over into another bucket—the Greek bucket—and use paideia. This is the word Paul uses in Ephesians when he speaks of raising children in the “nurture [paideia] and admonition of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4).
The idea here is of a whole-person approach to shaping the next generation. As Joe Rigney puts it, “Paideia is the all-encompassing enculturation and formation of a child into a citizen. Christian paideia, then, is all-encompassing Christian discipleship.” We find this idea clearly described in Deuteronomy 6, where God commands the Israelites to embrace a deeply thorough approach—when you get up, when you sit down, when you walk—to teaching their children.
We tend to think of education as relegated to intellectual knowledge, but paideia includes character formation and virtue as well.
It’s not enough to know what is good and what is true; we must come to love what is good and love what is true.
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The communal life of Jesus’s followers described in the Bible comforts and challenges us. It comforts those who feel lonely and isolated and without social capital because it shows that deep connectedness is more than possible in Christ. And it challenges the current culture’s self-satisfied, self-actualized philosophy—in which anything or anyone that doesn’t fit our preconceived ideas about personal flourishing is passed on to the thrift shop—because it tells us that following Jesus pretty much has to involve other people, including people who are very different to ourselves.
Self-Control for Christian Community
Paul’s letter to Titus gives us a great example of doing relationally rich life together as God’s people. Paul’s instructions to Titus were designed to pull the Cretan Christians back from the selfishness of the society around them. For those who had decided to follow Christ, a new way of living was required. In fact, a new “self” was required—one that was shaped by the needs of others, not just one’s own desires. One that enabled and enriched community life.
Paul wanted Titus to teach “sound doctrine” (2:1), but this was no dry theology; it was practical. Self-control and selflessness were to be at the heart of the church:

Teach the older men to be temperate, worthy of respect, self-controlled, and sound in faith, in love and in endurance. Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can urge the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God. Similarly, encourage the young men to be self-controlled. (Titus 2:2 –6)

Older men, older women, younger women and younger men: the common requirement for all four groups of people that Titus had to disciple was the quality of self-control. (In the case of the older women, Paul uses the word “reverent” instead, but follows it up with “not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine,” which sounds like self-control to me; it’s a prohibition against uncontrolled drinking and an uncontrolled tongue.) The term “self-controlled” appears again in verse 12. It’s also used in the list of attributes to be held by an elder in Titus 1:8.