The Perils of Performance-Based Christianity
I think this subject is something that affects us all. Or at least the potential is there. It’s one of those frog in the kettle experiences that sneak up on you unnoticed and then you suddenly realize you’re in the throes of it. I don’t think any of us wakes up one day and thinks, “Today would be a good day to start down the road of performance-based Christianity.” Instead, it takes us by surprise and that’s one thing that makes it necessary to talk about from time to time. In my own experience, being caught in the trap of performance-based Christianity has a subtle beginning and when you’re in the midst of it, you can be blind to it, apart from the Lord showing it to you. Like any other trial, the experience is not wasted but once you recognize it for what it is and repent, your grip on grace tightens.
A Working Definition
It’s necessary to start with a good working definition, so let’s do that. What do I mean by performance-based Christianity? A couple of days ago, I stumbled across a good definition of it and instead of reinventing the wheel, I thought I would just use it. The following is a clear definition of what I mean by performance-based Christianity, written by Terry Rayburn at his Grace for Life blog. You can see his entire post [HERE]. He says,
The Performance-Based Christianity type I speak of is, I believe, the most destructive to the spiritual walk of the Christian, because it does several bad things:
1. It makes a Christian think they are better or worse than other Christians, causing pride or despair respectively;
2. It encourages the Christian to be self-centered — always examining his navel as to whether he is “measuring up” (and he never is, of course) — instead of being Christ-centered, looking to Jesus and fellowshiping with Him;
I think Rayburn’s definition nails it. It at least paints an accurate picture of how performance-based Christianity has worked in my life. Let’s spend the rest of the time in this blog fleshing out Rayburn’s definition and talking about how pride, despair, and a constant measuring of one’s self against a performance yard stick instead of looking at the gospel and the cross, can lead to either an elitist or defeatist view of the Christian life.
Setting Aside the Gospel
Performance-based Christianity often begins with a subtle setting aside of the gospel. It’s subtle because just like we don’t wake up one day thinking performance-based Christianity would be a good thing to start doing, we also don’t begin our day thinking the gospel would be a good thing to set aside. It’s subtle, it’s harmful for a believer, and it’s where things begin to go bad. By setting aside the gospel, I simply mean that we sometimes tend to think of the gospel as something that gets us started in the Christian life, as something that we get a handle on, and then we move on to the deeper things in Scripture, setting the gospel aside as though it is something that we have mastered and have since outgrown.
It has been my own experience that in performance mode, this setting aside of the gospel creates a vacuum that needs to be filled, and we most often fill it with substitutions that in and of themselves, are good things, but if removed from the larger context of the gospel, can soon become harmful things that either feed our pride, or cause despair. Two things that come to mind for me are theology and performance. Outside of the context of the gospel, either or both of these good things (and they are both very good and necessary!) can quickly and easily become ugly because my tendency, apart from the gospel, is to turn them into an idol and they become an end in and of themselves. One way that I can tell if my theology has become an idol is if I have an insatiable need to be right, especially in insignificant things. I can tell if my performance has become an idol if I am preoccupied with the quantity and quality of what I’m doing in comparison to those around me, instead of resting in the cross and Jesus’ perfect performance on my behalf. Theology outside of the context of the gospel can lead to pride and a critical, harsh, and impatient spirit. Performance outside of the context of the gospel can lead to prideful and self-righteous ambition as long as I am performing to the standard of my preset goals. But if I fail to consistently meet those goals, I run the risk of falling into discouragement and despair. Let’s look at both of these more closely.
A Critical Spirit and the Constant Need to be Right
Good theology is important. The gospel itself is good theology. I’m not saying that theology is unimportant or should be watered down, but I am saying that theology unimmersed in the gospel can lead to a critical and prideful spirit. Gospel-less theology or gospel-lite theology can feed the flame of performance-based Christianity making it easy to become critical, harsh, and intolerant of other believers. When we wed performance-based Christianity with what may indeed be good (but gospel-lite) theology, we can easily fall into the trap of being critical of other believers simply because they don’t use the same terms we would use, or the same phrases we would use in explaining their position on a given subject. Within performance-based Christianity, I have to be right in what I say because if I’m not, I’m not performing to the level of the counterfeit standard that I’ve set for myself and those around me. So being right becomes paramount. I can easily become obsessed with the need to be right in performance-based Christianity if that’s where I’ve set the bar. But this is self-righteousness dressed in a different suit. Paul Tripp made an interesting comment about self-righteousness that I think lends to our discussion. He said this on Twitter, so it’s short and sweet because Twitter only allows you to have 140 characters. Is it legitimate to use Twitter as a source? I hope so, because I’m going to. He said,
“…self-righteousness tends to makes us feel more entitled than blessed…more demanding than grateful.” Paul David Tripp (Posted on Twitter May 22, 2009).
It is true. Performance-based Christianity creates within us a self-righteousness that feels entitled to certain things, not blessed if it receives them. The Bible calls that pride. Humanly speaking, the scary thing about performance-based Christianity is that we can be completely blind to it when we are in the center of it. I am speaking from experience, not theoretically. Performance-based Christianity, coupled with gospel-lite theology, can cause its proponent to be adversarial and critical for the sake of being adversarial and critical because of the ongoing need to be right. Timothy was on the front lines of the battle for the gospel. He was in the thick of it as he contended for the faith. Yet it was in that context that Paul reminded him,
Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will. (2 Timothy 2:23-26, NIV)
Did you catch that? Even when contending and striving for the purity of the gospel, Paul said that the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome. I am never justified in rolling my sleeves up and looking for a fight for the sake of looking for a fight so that I can be right. The Lord’s servant must not be characterized by being a bully or picking a fight. As I mentioned above, being right can mean that I insist on you using my theological terms or my theological phrases instead of your own because mine are better. Mine may be better, but because I am more performance-driven than grace-driven, I have to be right, therefore, you have to change to suit me. I’ve actually been critical of other dear brothers because they have chosen to use a different vocabulary than mine in expressing a theological viewpoint. In performance mode, it’s easy to be critical in such trivial ways because my vocabulary is obviously better and they should have used mine. In the past, I have been critical of other dear brothers and been quick to shut them down when they approached me with many of these same ideas that I am sharing with you about performance-based Christianity and the need for a gospel-centered life. But because their thoughts were still in seed form and not fully developed, and they weren’t using the same theological phrasing that we used to agree should be used, I was quick to criticize and slow to listen, all because I had to be right, even if it meant picking a fight. I have even read books for the purpose of discovering what was “wrong” with them so that I could blog on it and be right. I have deleted all of those blog posts. This is the ugly outcome of performance-based Christianity. It is deceptive and it creeps up on you slowly. It is sinful pride in action. But the Lord has graciously opened my eyes to it and he has granted me repentance. I have sought forgiveness from those dear friends of mine whom I was critical of and our fellowship today is sweeter than it’s been in years. God is good. God is gracious! Speaking of grace, here’s another quote about the need to be right and the work of grace in our lives that I found encouraging. You can find this quote on-line [HERE] at the Of First Importance web site.
The Paradox of Grace: “This is the paradox of grace. He who insists he is right will be pronounced wrong, while he who admits he is wrong will be declared right. The righteousness of God is only given to those who stand in the sinners place.” – Stanley Voke, Personal Revival (Waynesboro, Ga.: OM Literature, nd), 24.
Abraham Piper is correct when he says that the drive to have others always agree with me amounts to legalism. This quote is written in the context of his marriage relationship, but the principles applies to our discussion.
We’re not always in perspectival agreement. And I don’t think that’s necessary. I think that’s legalism, where everybody must absolutely agree with my perspectives on everything. Abraham Piper You can view it in its entirety [HERE].
Setting the Performance Bar
I want to share a quick story with you before continuing. For those of you who know me personally, this story will be a surprise. Are you ready? Here it is. I competed in track and field for 2 years in High School. Yep, it’s true. Me, in shorts, in the early ’70’s, outside, running and jumping over things. It’s true. I wasn’t any good and I never won anything, so that part should be no surprise to you. But I did compete and I loved the high jump. I could do the high jump all day. Again, I wasn’t any good at it, and with my low center of gravity, it probably wasn’t a good choice of sport, but I loved it nonetheless. I loved the feeling of accomplishment as I leaped over that bar without it touching my back or backside, and then falling on that soft mat and seeing the bar still in place. I had made it over the bar! That was the good news. The bad news? Since I had made it over the bar in its current position, it was raised to the next highest position and I had to try again to make it over. It was inevitable that sooner or later (is that redundant?), the bar would be raised too high for me to make it over, and I would fail.
My experiences with performance-based Christianity were similar. Slowly, over a period of several years, I unknowingly set a performance bar and the bar was a contrived, arbitrary standard that I had set for myself and then imposed it on those around me. I would say things like, “When someone professes to believe, our expectations go way up.” Or I would say things like, “A believer would respond to a trial like this.”, or “This is what a believer would look like” in any given situation. The bar I had set was legalism or works and it was disconnected from the gospel. Setting a performance bar does lip service to the gospel because if it truly understood the gospel, it would recognize that there is no need for it to be there in the first place and it would cease to exist. But in my experience with performance-based Christianity, the bar is there and the bar is real. The bar is the measurement of my performance, and so much depends on my performance. My performance becomes the barometer of how I am doing spiritually. It becomes a false standard that either comforts me or discourages me, depending on how I am performing at any given moment. Let me give you a couple of examples of how this worked out in my life when I was caught in the trap of performance-based Christianity.
I might see a friend and ask, “How are you?”, followed immediately by, “What are you reading?” Now, there is nothing wrong with that and it is good for a believer to read a lot. But in the context of performance-based Christianity, that question can subtly translate into, “How is your reading performance? “Does it measure up to where I think you ought to be and to where I have set my performance bar for myself and those around me?” Before you chop off my head, let me say that reading is good and helps us to grow in the Lord. But in a performance setting, it can easily become another feather in my performance cap to show off to my peers. In the context of performance-based Christianity, I have actually read books in anticipation of that question so that I could stay one up on the one asking me the question. I have read books so that I could be prepared for the question that I knew was coming, and it came. The same could be said of hospitality or anything else we fabricate so that we can compare ourselves to each other.
Another example that comes to mind is that of doing lip service to the gospel itself. I would remind others and myself that we needed to be preaching the gospel to ourselves, and that is a good thing. We do need to be doing that – all the time. But in my experience with performance-based Christianity, those words simply became another performance bar. I was expected to say it, so I said it without really applying it to my situation. If I had applied it, I would have been truly resting in the gospel and resting in grace instead of continuing to put so much stock in my performance. But that phrase slowly became another feather in my performance cap. I would say it, and then get back to performing.
Uncomfortable Grace
Performance-based Christianity is legalism because it takes my eyes off of Jesus and the cross, and puts them on me, my performance, and the performance of those around me. It feeds my pride if I’m good at it and it defeats me if I’m not. This has been our experience and it is one reason why I started this post with Rayburn’s definition. I was pretty good at it and it fed my pride. My spouse was not as good at it, and she fell into a deep depression and became defeated by it. But we weren’t always like that. It happened slowly over a period of a few years, and we didn’t even notice it until the Lord took us through a severe trial and graciously and gently revealed it to us. Thankfully, we have experienced what Paul Tripp calls “uncomfortable grace.”
Trials = Uncomfortable grace… God will take you where you do not want to go to produce in you what you could not achieve on your own… Paul David Tripp (Posted on Twitter May 5, 2009).
The only way to battle performance-based Christianity is to remember the gospel and to put it into practice all over again, regardless of personal loss and trusting in nothing else. We never outgrow our need for the gospel and our need for grace. Our theology and our practice need to be bathed in both. Jesus was full of grace and truth (John 1:14). He was 100% grace and 100% truth and we are to be like him (Colossians 4:6). Sometimes the Lord brings us through extreme trials to get our attention and show us our sin and that is certainly the case with us. The next time someone suggests to you that you need more of a gospel focus, ask them what they mean by that, and then please listen patiently. They may be right.













































































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