People in your church are faking Christianity. Are you one of them?
You enter your church’s building. You know what to wear, what to say, and how to say it. You’re accepted and loved. But have you been spiritually born into the family of God? Are you merely a nominal Christian—a Christian in name only?
You Don’t See Them…
Early in my ministry, I led a youth group. I assumed that a high percentage of these teens who grew up in Christian homes were genuinely born again. Looking back, though only God knows their hearts, I think the number of true believers was much lower than I imagined. If I could do it again, I’d preach the gospel more urgently and plead with each teen individually more often than I did then.
…But They’re Everywhere…
“The saddest thing one meets is the nominal Christian,”[1] wrote Amy Carmichael. She spoke from her experience—in her “Christian” homeland in the U.K., in her brief assignment in Japan, and in her lifework in India. Carmichael noted the stark honesty in Japan where young and old freely admitted their belief or unbelief. In contrast, India, following England’s example, contained whole villages of those who claimed the name of Christ without experiencing genuine regeneration. Carmichael continued, “The church here is a ‘field full of wheat and tares.’”
“Not in our church,” we might argue. We point to other denominations and movements. But even in our Bible-believing, more conservative congregations, we should examine the authenticity of the spiritual life in those among us.
We should start with ourselves. Paul warned in 2 Corinthians 13:5, “Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves.” Even among Christ’s twelve disciples, a goat blended in with the sheep.
…And It’s Sad.
Amy Carmichael lamented that a nominal Christian is the “saddest thing.” Why is nominal Christianity so sad?
1. The nominal Christian depletes the power of the church (Gal. 5:16-23).
God works in this world through the power of the Holy Spirit as believers yield to Him. However, a nominal Christian lacks the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and therefore can neither walk in the Spirit nor produce the fruit of the Spirit. All the nominal Christian’s service is in the flesh. He is feigning the transforming work of God and is thus a hypocrite. Genuine believers can sometimes behave as hypocrites, but a nominal believer cannot avoid it. Genuine believers can live after the flesh, but a nominal believer has no choice (Rom. 8:4-8). Why are our churches often impotent against the powers of darkness? One reason may be that there is darkness within, and this is truly sad.
2. The nominal Christian will likely leave us at some point (1 Jn. 2:19).
We see signs that some among us may not be truly saved. Yet we do nothing. We fear offending them—that our words of exhortation will drive them away. However, their heart is already not with us, and their feet will often follow, even if we remain silent. Speaking about a group of unbelievers within the church, the apostle John wrote: “They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would no doubt have continued with us: but they went out, that they might be made manifest that they were not all of us” (1 Jn. 2:19). If we are concerned that a professing believer may not be truly saved, we should lovingly exhort them before they are gone. Because when they’re gone, we will sadly look back on relationships we enjoyed and opportunities we missed.
3. The nominal Christian is in danger of hell (Matt. 7:22-23).
What type of church-goer will find himself pleading in the day of judgment like this? “Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity.” These are the words of the many nominal Christians throughout history. They are among us—nice, comfortable, kind, and in danger of eternal damnation because their relationship with God is fake. This is heartrendingly sad.
A Call for Compassionate Conversations
Wheat and tares look virtually alike. Only God can see hearts. However, the awareness that those dear to us may merely appear to be a brother or sister in Christ should compel us to humbly initiate these hard conversations. Let us not become the Christian gestapo, but let us exhibit an authentic urgency and concern for the spiritual condition of those who worship God alongside us each week.
[1] Read more about Amy Carmichael in my book, Daring Devotion: A 31-Day Journey with those who Lived God’s Promises, and in the source of this quote, Elisabeth Elliot’s excellent biography, A Chance to Die: The Life and Legacy of Amy Carmichael (Old Tappan, NJ: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1987), 117.
