Delighting Discipline
By Anthony Casperson
6-27-26

In the first season of the TV Show Arrow, the nineteenth episode shows the flashback of Oliver Queen wanting to be trained by his fellow island castaway, Lian Yu, so that they can survive together. While Lian Yu agrees to the training, he has Olivier begin by slapping his hand into a large bowl of water.

The task doesn’t make sense to Oliver. Sure, he tries it to start with, but eventually confronts the master bowman about it. To the student, this whole thing felt like a waste of time. It seemed to just be busywork meant to keep the student busy while the master did nothing. If anything, it felt like a punishment because of the pain involved in the repeated task.

All pain, no gain.

For anyone familiar with classic martial arts training tropes, we all knew there was a reason for the repetitious action. The pain had a purpose. The discipline was the important part.

But to Oliver, it just felt like discomfort. Without reason.

Once the student’s emotional outburst had finished spewing out, Lian Yu explained a little about the purpose. Essentially, the repeated impacts callused the hands, strengthened the bones because of the repeated healing of micro-fractures, and built up the muscles in the upper body to allow for a high-tension bowstring to be drawn without hurting the wielder.

The master knew what problems the future could create, if the life-softened student should try to pick up a bow right then and there. Sliced fingertips. Torn muscles and ligaments in the arm or shoulder. And even a desire to quit, because he couldn’t draw the bowstring more than an inch with his unreadied muscles.

It wasn’t out of annoyance or a lack of approval that Lian Yu prescribed this distressing repetition. It was out of care for Oliver’s wish to be fulfilled properly. The whole thing had been to prepare the student for mastery.

Discipline led to the desired outcome a way that nothing else could.

The training regimen was so effective for Oliver, that when his first protégé, Roy Harper, asked to be trained in the next season, the lesson was passed on. With a repetition of anger by the student not understanding the point of the lesson.

We followers of Jesus often fall into the same repetition trope. God wants us to grow and mature in our faith, but all that we can see is the hardship. The pain and discomfort in a “pointless” refrain. But God knows that it’s not pointless. He has a purpose.

And it’s to this concept that Solomon moves in Proverbs 3:11-12. A point so important that this entire blog focuses only on these two verses from a father to his son while speaking on wisdom.

In our translations, this generational speech of wisdom starts off like the others do, with the father calling to his son to listen. “My son…” While we’re not sons of Solomon, we can still all learn from this lesson. So, let’s listen to the master of wisdom as a novice would.

However, the truth is that this proverb’s original Hebrew starts with the word “discipline.” Because of the way that Hebrew grammar works, often the important aspects of the sentence are front-loaded. You want to start off on the right part of the lesson.

Imagine that. You have to hit the discipline before you can accept the wisdom.

But what is it about the discipline about which Solomon wishes to speak? He calls us to not despise the Lord’s discipline. Don’t reject Yahweh’s repetitious tasks. And don’t grow weary of his reproof. Make sure we don’t look at his correction with disgust.

God’s not going to ask us to slap bowls of water, but sometimes his spiritual training regimen will feel like it. Sometimes, we’ll roll our eyes and sigh like a rebellious teenager.

We’ll ask why reading certain parts of the bible are even important. “It’s just the same thing repeated twelve times with only the names changing for every refrain.” “What do the Levitical sacrificial laws have to do with my life?” “Doesn’t this passage speak poorly about something that culture today tells us to approve of?”

Prayer will feel like talking to the wall. “I’ve prayed and prayed, but still have no answer.” “The last time I really prayed for something I wanted, it didn’t happen.” “What’s the point of talking to God anyway? Doesn’t he already know everything I need?”

Fellowship with other followers of Jesus will eventually lead to pain. “Those people are so judgmental.” “I don’t want anything to do with people who act like that.” “Everyone’s so busy in their little cliques that they don’t realize I could use some help.”

The various other disciplines of a healthy spiritual life could go on and on.

Some of those questions and complaints are actually valid. They’re spiritual micro-fractures that prove the need for healing. Soft spots created by the culture that require hardening so that we can move forward in our spiritual goals. Muscles that would tear if we picked up the tools of mastery before we’re ready.

But if we let those objections get in the way of our reason for pursuing wisdom—for fearing Yahweh—then we’ll remain petulant novices for the rest of our lives. And any desire for mastery might as well have never started.

It takes discipline to be wise. Painful repetition of spiritual practice to even begin the path of mastery.

But while we’re in the middle of it, we’ll often ask if God’s just doing this to punish us, or merely giving us busy work until we get tired of trying. However this couldn’t be further from the truth.

Verse 12 tells us the truth of why God calls us to this discipline. It’s because he loves us. We followers of Jesus are his children. Sons and daughters whom he loves so much that he wants us to be strong and capable, rather than spoiled rotten.

Yahweh’s discipline isn’t for those who reject him. No good father would teach only the neighbor kids how to correctly throw a ball while their child sat in their house alone. Life lessons travel best from parent to child, in the moment of their need. Or even better, as preparation for the trials to come. Even if the child can’t see the torn muscles and sliced fingertips, the parent certainly should.

And God knows the possibilities all the more than any other parent could. His discipline and correction are meant to build us up for future challenges, make us ready to face them rather than get beaten to a bloody pulp the first time we try without the training.

The discipline proves that God delights in us. He wants to see our good. Our growth. He desires to watch us thrive spiritually in this dark and sinful world. But we’ll never reach that if we tip over the bowl of water and stop the lesson.

So, let’s keep in mind that the spiritual disciplines and challenges that God places in front of us aren’t for punishment, or because he’s tired of us. Instead, remember that the regimen proves he wants to teach us. He cares for us. We are loved children of our heavenly Father, proved through the discipline.

Let us pursue the discipline while delighting in him and his ways, just like his discipline proves his delight in us. And then pass that lesson on after us whenever the next season shows the need in another’s life.

A picture of Oliver training Roy, because I couldn't find the other.