In Marcus Aurelius’ first chapter of Meditations, he makes a list of people in his life and the precious lessons they taught him. It is a chapter that is filled with warmth (he speaks of his mom, dad, grandpa, and dear friends) and wisdom. It’s delicious.

There is one piece of wisdom from it I think especially relevant for you and I, dear reader.

A Lesson Learned

In the first few sentences he mentions an important lesson he learned from his grandfather, Verus about how to approach his own education:

From my grandfather Verus I learned… not to have frequented public schools, and to have had good teachers at home, and to know that on such things a man should spend liberally.

Remember, Aurelius didn’t live in 21st century America (he lived in Rome from 121–180AD) so he’s not making a case for modern homeschooling, although his wisdom here is relevant. Public schools in ancient Rome, much like today, could be chaotic, crowded, and inconsistent in quality. By choosing to bring “good teachers” into the home, his grandfather emphasized an intentional and focused approach to learning. He taught Aurelius to surround himself with people who would cultivate his mind and character, rather than leaving it to chance in a broader, less controlled environment. Break up with the public schools, dear Aurelius, and marry yourself to those who know truth and live wisely.

The Scriptures are replete with the same wisdom. King Solomon said, “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life” (Prov. 4:23). Jesus taught that the “pure of heart” are blessed and will see God (Matthew 5:8), not those with hearts muddied by foolish, worldly wisdom and values. Christians give their hearty amen to David’s prayer, “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10). Our mind, character, and affections (i.e. our heart) determines our whole life – our choices, words, deed, and delights. Its either trash in, trash out or treasure in, treasure out. So, we must, like a beefy, muscled bouncer, guard its door vigilantly and only let in those who will do it well. Beloved, be picky about your teachers.

A Lesson Applied

My mind has constantly come back to this wisdom because it is especially relevant today. Every day on Spotify, our video streaming services, and our social media feeds, teachers line up at our door to teach us their ways. They want to form our feelings, choices, words, thoughts, and sensibilities. They want our hearts and we have to make a decision: will I let them in?

To make it practical, I encourage you to start examining who you give your ears and eyes to and whether or not they’ll increase your love and devotion to God or eat away at it inch by inch. Consider asking these questions

What’s the intent behind this influence? Is this content or voice trying to inform, entertain, persuade, or manipulate me? Does it seek my good in Christ or just my attention?

Does this draw me closer to God or pull me away? Does listening to or watching this increase my love, peace, or devotion, or does it stir restlessness, cynicism, disbelief, or distraction?

What emotions does this stir in my heart? After engaging with this, do I feel more Christ-like and grounded emotions, or am I more anxious, angry, distrustful of loved ones, and divided?

What values is this teaching me? Are the messages—spoken or subtle—lining up with truth, goodness, and humility taught in Scripture, or pushing me toward self-interest, self-trust, materialism, or pride?

How much time am I giving this teacher? Am I letting this voice dominate my day, leaving little room for reflection, prayer, or better influences? How is your screen time compared to your Bible time?

Would I invite this into my home if it were a person? If this podcast, show, or feed were a real teacher knocking at my door, would I trust them with my heart and mind?

Would I want my children to think or act like this? Is this content merely entertainment for me now or is it an example for how I’d like my children to turn out?

Does this leave me better or worse than before? After consuming this, am I more equipped to love my neighbor and trust God or do I feel drained, confused, or cynical?

Am I choosing this or is it choosing me? Did I seek this out intentionally in order to grow more like Jesus or am I letting an algorithm or habit decide what shapes my thoughts? Who or what is in the driver seat here?

What’s the fruit of this in my life? Looking at my words, actions, or mood after engaging—am I bearing good fruit and becoming holier (Galatians 5:22-23) or am I becoming thornier?

Is this worth my heart’s real estate? Given that “everything you do flows from the heart” (Proverbs 4:23), is this influence worthy of the space it’s taking up inside me?

These questions are a hands-on tool to push you to intentionally pause and sift through the barrage of modern “teachers” clamoring for your heart. They’re a practical way for you to learn from Marcus’ wisdom to bring in only the good teachers and Jesus’ call to store up what’s pure. They’re a filter for today’s noise, helping decide who gets a seat at the table.

Remember, everyone is a disciple of something or someone. You’re either following teachers who are making you more like Jesus or more like something else.

Who’s discipling you?