When we picture a deeply spiritual person, many of us imagine a monk in a quiet monastery—someone who has devoted their life to prayer, Scripture, and simplicity. There's something about that image that resonates with our understanding of godliness. But here's the beautiful truth: those monks aren't closer to God because of *where* they live, but because of *how* they live. They haven't discovered some secret access to God that the rest of us lack. They've simply made room for Him.
The Psalmist paints a vivid picture of this kind of person: "Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers" (Psalm 1:1-3).
Notice the order: roots first, then fruit. The tree doesn't strain to produce fruit—it simply draws from the water source, and fruit becomes the natural result.
The Gap Between Wanting and Growing
Most of us genuinely want to grow spiritually. We desire deeper intimacy with God, greater peace, more love for others, and freedom from the patterns that hold us back. But if we're honest, many of us feel stuck in the same place we were a year ago, maybe even five years ago.
Here's the uncomfortable truth: wanting to grow is not the same as growing.
Paul's instruction to Timothy cuts through our wishful thinking: "Train yourself for godliness" (1 Timothy 4:7). Not "wish for godliness." Not "hope for godliness." *Train* for godliness. This single word shifts everything. It moves us from passive longing to active participation in our own spiritual formation.
The Difference Between Trying and Training
There's a world of difference between trying harder and training deeper. Trying exhausts us. We grit our teeth, clench our fists, and attempt to white-knuckle our way to holiness. We resolve to read our Bible more, pray longer, sin less, and love better. And inevitably, we fail. We collapse under the weight of our own effort.
Training, on the other hand, forms us. It acknowledges that "physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come" (1 Timothy 4:8). Just as an athlete doesn't become strong by simply wanting strength or trying really hard during one workout, we don't become spiritually mature through sporadic bursts of religious activity.
No one drifts into spiritual maturity. Godliness does not happen by accident. As Peter reminds us, we must "crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation" (1 Peter 2:2). Growth requires intentionality.
Beyond Mechanics to Heart Transformation
But here's where it gets tricky. The spiritual disciplines—practices like prayer, fasting, solitude, meditation, and service—are not mechanical formulas. Knowing *about* them is not the same as practicing them. And practicing them mechanically misses the point entirely.
The disciplines are meant to cultivate an inward, spiritual reality. The inner attitude of the heart matters infinitely more than the outward mechanics. Jesus confronted the religious leaders of His day with this very issue: "These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me" (Matthew 15:8).
The transformation we're after isn't behavioral modification—it's heart renovation. Paul captures this beautifully: "Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2). The disciplines are tools for this renewing, not ends in themselves.
Breaking Free from Unhealthy Patterns
Many of us are shaped by ingrained habits we didn't consciously choose. We scroll mindlessly, react defensively, seek comfort in food or entertainment, and fill every quiet moment with noise. These patterns have formed us, often without our awareness.
Paul's words to the Romans are sobering: "Don't you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey?" (Romans 6:16). Our habits either enslave us or liberate us. There is no neutral ground.
The call is to live wisely: "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity" (Ephesians 5:15-16). And here's the promise: "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Corinthians 3:17). The disciplines practiced rightly lead us into freedom, not bondage.
The Deadly Trap: When Disciplines Become Laws
There's a dangerous path that leads away from life with God, and ironically, it's paved with spiritual disciplines. This happens when we turn the disciplines into laws—measurements of our spiritual worth rather than means of connecting with God.
When disciplines become laws, several things happen:
- They become measurements instead of means
- They create pride (when we succeed) or guilt (when we fail) instead of humility
- They shift our focus from relationship to performance
The moment a discipline becomes a rule, it loses its power to shape the heart. Paul warned the Galatians: "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1).
He's even more pointed in Colossians: "Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules: 'Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!'? Such regulations indeed have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed worship, their false humility and their harsh treatment of the body, but they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence" (Colossians 2:20-23).
Jesus confronted this same legalism: "They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people's shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them" (Matthew 23:4).
The disciplines are meant to serve love, not replace it. They are tools for freedom, not tests of faithfulness.
This Isn't About Impressing God
Here's the liberating truth: "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1). We're not training to earn God's approval. We already have it. We're not practicing disciplines to impress God or prove our devotion. We're training because we want to become the kind of people who naturally abide in His love.
This journey is fundamentally about Jesus, not discipline. "We have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, and especially of those who believe" (1 Timothy 4:10). Jesus Himself said, "Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me" (John 15:4-5).
The One Thing Needed
Mary understood something her sister Martha missed. While Martha was distracted by much serving, Jesus gently redirected her: "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one" (Luke 10:42).
The one thing needed is presence with Jesus. Everything else flows from that.
We are not trying harder—we are training deeper. Roots before fruit. And the roots grow down into the life-giving water of God's presence, nurtured by practices that open us to His transforming work.
The invitation stands: will you train for godliness?