We can be faithful in our routines, steady in our service and present in worship while still missing the heart of discipleship. Spiritual disciplines, by themselves, can harden the heart rather than soften it. Many believers have learned what to do without ever understanding why they do it. Churches, ministry programs and schools often teach students to read their Bibles, pray daily and serve at church, yet fail to connect these practices with their true purpose. Spiritual disciplines are not the prize — they are the pathway to the living presence of God.
We must be wary of offering ourselves or those we lead a checklist without cultivating a heart that longs for the presence of the living God. It is possible to master the motions without moving closer to the Master.
I have wrestled with this confusion personally, and I have seen it in others, too. Good Christians often know the habits but lack the intimacy God invites us to enjoy. Entire congregations can settle into routines that lack relationships. Even more tragic, they might believe they have “arrived” because of their discipline. They mistake habit for hunger and morality for movement toward God Himself. Ultimately, they find themselves decorating a house they never actually moved into.
Modern discipleship programs, for all their strengths, sometimes contribute to the confusion. They rightly emphasize Bible study, prayer, stewardship and church involvement while neglecting to teach believers how to move beyond doing things for God to dwelling with God. They can create strong habits while leaving a dangerous gap where awe, wonder, love and personal communion ought to live.
When the rhythm of discipline outpaces the music of devotion, two dangers often appear — legalism and weariness.
Legalism sneaks in when believers measure their worth by their spiritual output. Performance-driven questions become the motivation: “Have I done enough? Prayed enough? Studied enough?” Some even imagine God carrying a clipboard and a red pen, grading their efforts. (Spoiler alert — He does not.)
Weariness follows close behind. Without true heart transformation, the burden of maintaining an image of spiritual strength becomes exhausting. Some believers drop out while others keep marching, but with heads down and hearts hollowed out.
For too long, churches have substituted convictional morality for abiding discipleship. We taught our children what not to do but failed to show them the surpassing joy of life in Christ. We warned them against sin but forgot to show them the Savior. As a result, generations grew up believing Christianity was about rules, guilt and reputation, rather than grace, communion and transformation.
Moralistic faith is fragile. It cannot endure temptation, suffering or the hostility of a fallen world. Only those who have tasted the goodness of the Lord and known His forgiveness can stand firm when the storms come.
Spiritual disciplines must not become the destination. They are the road we travel to meet with the One who saves, sanctifies and sustains. Bible study ought not to serve as a badge of honor but as a banquet where God feeds us. Prayer should not feel like a chore, but an open door to the throne room of grace. Church attendance ought not to mark a weekly obligation, but call the beloved family of God together to celebrate our shared life.
We must retrace our steps if we want to cultivate churches full of bona fide disciples. We must teach not only the disciplines but also the purpose behind them. Discipleship must invite believers beyond asking, “What must I do?” and lead them to a richer question — “Who is God, and how can I stay near Him?”
This kind of discipleship refuses to settle for surface-level faith. It digs deep, presses forward and endures when shallow routines collapse. It produces people who belong to Christ, His church and His mission.
Green pastors who long for greener pastures must call their people to more than better habits. We must call them back to God Himself. Teach them that spiritual disciplines are tools for treasuring God, not trophies to parade before others. Show them that moral behavior matters, but never as much as the living fellowship Christ offers to sinners made saints. Invite them to feast at the table, not simply toil in the field.
We have spent many years teaching how to till the soil, pull the weeds and manage the garden. Many have labored with great sincerity, while few have tasted the sweetness of the fruit. The goal was never farming for farming’s sake. The goal is life abundant, flowing from the Vine that never withers, from the Savior who invites His friends to remain with Him forever.
In the end, we are not managers of religious routines. We are shepherds leading our people to feast in green pastures and drink from still waters, where the soul is restored not by effort, but by encounter.
