I was sixteen, sitting halfway back in the worn, squeaky pews, trying to look like I was paying attention. The sermon did not make me love Jesus more. It made me wonder if I was going to hell.
The preacher stalked the stage, pounding his fist into his palm, face red, sweat pouring. He was winding up for the big moment, the line he thought would jolt us into holiness. I sat there, heart thudding, desperate to know what God wanted from me, or how to stop Him from being angry.
Finally, the preacher leaned over the pulpit, his voice low but sharp:
He paused. Then he said it again, slower.
My gut clenched. Would there be enough evidence? I did not know. And just like that, I tumbled into the same old anxiety loop, wondering if I was Christian enough for God.
Looking back now, I see the “evidence” he meant was just religious window dressing. Read your Bible. Pray. Tell people about Jesus. Show up to church. Do not sin too much in public.
None of it had much to do with actually following Him.
The Real Evidence
It is a fascinating question: if following Jesus were a crime, would there be enough evidence to convict you?
I now see that the true evidence of Christian faith is not found in how well we perform the rituals of religion. It is not about how often we pray, how many Bible verses we know, or how faithfully we show up to church.
The truest evidence is seen in our attitudes and actions toward other people.
Here is a challenge for anyone who calls themselves a Christian. If you really want to know whether Christ has made a difference in your life, ask a non-Christian this: “Would you know I am a Christian if I never told you that I was?”
The answer you get might not be what you expect. In fact, research suggests that for most Christians, it would not be good news.
An Uncomfortable Truth
When David Kinnaman was researching for his book unChristian, he stumbled on a statistic that should make every believer pause. Eighty-four percent of non-Christians say they personally know a Christian. Yet only fifteen percent say the lifestyle of that Christian is noticeably different in a good way.
Let that sink in.
Most people who know a Christian see nothing in their life that sets them apart in a positive way.
It gets worse. In a Barna Group study, non-Christians were asked for their overall perception of Christians. Eighty-seven percent said Christians were judgmental. Eighty-five percent said hypocritical. Seventy-eight percent said out of touch.
If you are a Christian, you might be tempted to push back. They have it wrong! They are misunderstanding us!
But here is the part that is hardest to hear. When it comes to hypocrisy, judgementalism and self-righteousness, many Christians admit to being guilty. In fact, statistically, we are more likely to display the attitudes and actions of the Pharisees than the attitudes and actions of Christ.
And that is not just opinion.
More Like Jesus or More Like the Pharisees?
Some years ago, George Barna set out to measure whether Christians today look more like Jesus or more like the Pharisees. Yes, the research is older, but it still stacks up. In fact, if the same study were run today, I suspect the results would be just as confronting.
In the Bible, the Pharisees were a religious group in Jesus’ time who were meticulous about keeping rules and projecting moral superiority. They knew the Scriptures inside out, but their faith had calcified into legalism, pride, and a lack of compassion. These were the people Jesus clashed with most often — not because they didn’t believe in God, but because their religion had lost its heart.
In Barna’s nationwide study, self-identified Christians were given twenty statements to respond to. Ten reflected the attitudes and actions of Jesus, such as listening to people’s stories before talking about your faith, sharing meals with those whose beliefs or morals are different from your own, spending time with non-believers to help them follow Jesus, and showing compassion for those who are not living according to God’s ways.
The other ten reflected the attitudes and actions of the Pharisees. These included avoiding people who are openly gay or lesbian, preferring to serve people in your own church rather than those outside it, feeling a sense of superiority when you see the failures and flaws of others, and believing that those who follow God’s rules are better than those who do not.
The results were sobering. Only fourteen percent of Christians displayed both the attitudes and actions of Jesus. More than half, however, scored high on both the attitudes and actions associated with the Pharisees.
The percentages may have shifted slightly since then, but the underlying reality has not. Statistically speaking, you are still far more likely to meet a Christian who behaves like a Pharisee than one who reflects the heart of Jesus.
Image created by author
Believing vs Being
It leaves you wondering. Does professing faith in Jesus actually make you more like Him, or less? Maybe the answer depends on the person.
Still, I think there is a reason this strange phenomenon happens, where so many Christians do not seem to act like Christ. In my experience, it often comes from the way churches focus almost entirely on maintaining correct beliefs and projecting the appearance of a sin free life. I call this performance based religion.
It is about what you know and what you do, rather than who you are.
Maybe your experience of church was different, but most of the teaching I heard growing up was about two things: acting the right way, which really meant managing sin, and believing the right things. Becoming a Christian was presented as little more than agreeing to a set of facts about Jesus.
After that, the goal shifted to getting others to believe those same right things and behave the right way. We called that evangelism.
As long as you could say you believed the right things, and did not sin too much in public, you could wear the label Christian without ever doing the uncomfortable work of becoming like Christ. That work always goes beneath the surface, past the beliefs and the behaviours, to uncover what is really going on inside you.
Why do we keep repeating the same patterns? What motives are really shaping our choices? Where does the voice of self-criticism come from when it is not from God? What blind spots and unspoken biases are steering us without our awareness? And how do we finally find healing from the wounds that still haunt us?
Most churches never lead people into these deep and difficult places. It is too hard. Too messy. Too confronting. But when we avoid this work, we end up doing exactly what the Pharisees did — polishing the outside while ignoring what is going on inside.
Real transformation begins when we allow ourselves to stop running and sit with what is true, even when it is uncomfortable. It means naming our fears instead of hiding them. It means facing the memories we would rather avoid. It means inviting God into the parts of our story we have kept locked away.
That is the opposite of the Pharisee way. They focused on image. Jesus focuses on the heart. And the change He brings rarely comes in a single moment of inspiration. More often, it is the long, unseen process of letting grace work on us until what once controlled us no longer has power.
Changing You vs Changing Others
Richard Rohr says, “Authentic spirituality is always about changing you. It is not about trying to change anyone else.”
That is the exact opposite of the Pharisee way. The Pharisees in Jesus’ day were quick to judge and correct others, but slow to face their own flaws. They measured holiness by how well other people conformed to their standards, yet resisted the deeper work that would have exposed their pride, fear and insecurity.
The Barna study shows we are still prone to the same trap. The majority of Christians surveyed displayed more Pharisee-like attitudes and behaviours than Christlike ones. That happens when our energy goes into fixing everyone else’s beliefs and behaviours while ignoring the work God wants to do in us.
When we make faith about getting other people to think and act the way we want, we keep the spotlight off our own hearts. And it is no wonder we end up coming across as hypocritical, judgemental, self-righteous and pushy.
The way of Jesus is different. His transforming work begins with us. It asks us to take up our own cross, not someone else’s. It calls us to release our need to control others and to let God do His work in their lives, just as He is doing in ours.
And here is the hope. When grace changes us from the inside out, the people around us notice. The evidence of our faith stops looking like a checklist and starts looking like love. That is the kind of evidence worth being known for.
What They Should See Without Asking
I can still hear that preacher’s voice asking if there would be enough evidence to convict me. For years, that question filled me with fear. Now it challenges me in a different way.
The Barna study reminds me how easy it is to have plenty of evidence for being religious, yet very little for being like Jesus. The Pharisees had evidence too — long prayers, public piety, flawless rule keeping — but it was the wrong kind of proof.
The evidence that matters is the kind you cannot fake: love that goes the extra mile, grace for people who least deserve it, humility that listens before it speaks. And the good news is, none of us have to manufacture that on our own. It grows in us as we let God’s Spirit do the deep work beneath the surface.
If the world saw more of that in us, no one would need to ask whether we follow Jesus. They would already know.
—
This post was previously published on Backyard Church.
***
You Might Also Like These From The Good Men Project
If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project, please join us as a Premium Member today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
Photo credit: iStock
