I was saved at the age of 11, during Vacation Bible School. The pastor finally spoke in words I could understand, using the game of baseball as an analogy for salvation. It still took my cousin wandering down the aisle before I was brave enough to do so myself, but on that day, I became a Christ follower. Finally, my grandmother could put her hand down. You see, every Sunday, the pastor would ask for unspoken prayer requests, and she would raise her hand. Later on, I realized, I was the unspoken request that was burdening her. But I digress.

And with that public profession of faith, I fell into a lifelong trap that sidetracks many Christians. I thought I should immediately be transformed, with a new heart and a new mind, membership in the club being all I needed to be whole. Born again after all.

Some quarter of a century later, this is still one of the main reasons why I find it so hard to deepen my relationship with God. Why many of us, I will assume, still struggle with that. We have the equation all wrong. Salvation = Faith = Mission Completed.  The church actually does talk about deepening your relationship with God, but for some reason it has always felt to me like it overly emphasized the transformation that occurs when you accept Christ, making it a divine transaction instead of the beginning of a deeper journey.

2 Peter 1:5 – For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly  kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love.

Wow, that passage displays a process with many steps that we tend to either skip over or take on all at once.  It is no wonder we burn out before we catch fire for God. We try to bite off a big chunk of godliness, for instance, before we spend time gathering knowledge and learning self-control. I’m not suggesting this is a process that must absolutely require a set amount of time. In fact, I’m sure that some people move through the steps more quickly than others. I am saying that the order is important. How can you consistently dismiss sin and persevere if you haven’t gained an understanding of what it takes for you to build self-control? From faith, it all builds. Faith grows stronger along the way. But from faith, you must build.

I must say that again in my 25 years of Christianity, it wasn’t until this week that I had this level of clarity about where I’d been going wrong in earlier attempts to walk with God.  Partly because I was just not being aware or open to hearing from God. Partly because when we gather together corporately as Christians, we don’t always create an environment conducive for growth.

Everyone shows up with their Sunday best on, and by appearance and attitude we create an illusion that all is well on our peaceful walk with God. We’ve been transformed, and we are whole. Mission completed. In the meantime, we create the belief that if you are struggling with faith or dealing with sin or drifting from God that you are all alone. A misfit in some way. You just don’t get it.

Occasionally, we see the courageous comeback story of someone who has rebounded from drugs or alcohol or overcome abuse or tragedy. Call me a pessimist but these stories, while inspiring, usually leave me feeling more alone in my struggle because in addition to these stories being positioned as exceptions to the rule, they also are usually examples of people who are actually back on track. So for those still in the midst of a relationship crisis, the message can be that indeed we are alone. There were a few people out there like us. But now they are back in the game as well. It might just be me, but after several recent conversations, I don’t believe that to be true. And while deep down we know that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,” it doesn’t stop our imagination from placing us on a deserted island.

It’s a viscous cycle. The reason for creating the illusion is because most of us are afraid to be real and open up.  And because of this fear, we perpetuate the fear in others that they are alone in their struggles, making their problems seem bigger and badder and that they have failed because everyone else seems to be doing just fine. It also creates the belief that those of us who aren’t where we want to be can’t offer any value because of our flaws. How quickly we forget the achievements of men like the disciples, who were riddled with shortcomings and weakness but did great things despite them.

If we would all pause and remember that it is the pursuit of being Christ-like, not actually achieving it in full, we would be in a better place. We might not be so afraid to let the world in and see that we don’t have it figured out. We wouldn’t unintentionally alienate others who really need support but aren’t comfortable being “the only broken ones.” In protecting and guarding ourselves, or putting on a mask because of pride, we perpetuate a collective aloneness.

I’ve also struggled with a seemingly widespread tendency of Christians to mistake holding people accountable with judging them. We’ve all done it, and we’ve all had it done to us.  I see it all the time. People who are strong in their faith and well-intentioned but then write someone off or place a black mark next to their name in the spirit of “holding them accountable” when really, they are judging them for not being transformed and whole.  It is not our place to forgive when there isn’t an act that directly impacts us. People don’t need to be judged. They don’t need to come to a place of worship or a community of believers and have to consciously monitor and censor themselves out of fear that someone will render a verdict and condemn them as spiritual criminals or deviants. Usually if I am tempted to judge someone, it is because I need to feel better about where I am and what I’m dealing with. It’s the only way I have of telling myself that I’m not so far off the mark after all, that I’m not alone. 

Considering all this, I’m going to take the same stand as one of my very good friends, who just the other day told me that he refused to live in fear any longer. Amen! This can be done by me being fully aware of where I stand in the process. For me, that means the knowledge phase. Next up, self-control. It also means that I have to continually remind myself that just like public speaking, most everyone is uncomfortable with where they are in their walk with God. I am not alone. And neither are you.