Return to a Future – Part 6A: When Jesus Becomes a Life Coach

Recovering Faithful Participation in a Therapeutic Age – Series Page

When Jesus becomes a life coach

Phase 2: How We Learned to Read Scripture This Way

What happens when discipleship becomes self-optimization?

The Language We Already Speak

We live in a culture of improvement. We optimize our health, our finances, our careers, our relationships, our productivity and even our sleep. We track our steps, monitor our habits and set goals for becoming better versions of ourselves. There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of this. Learning is good. Growth is good. Developing healthy habits is good. Becoming more disciplined is good. I don’t consider self-improvement as a problem. My concern is when Jesus becomes a life coach.

What happens when the language of self-optimization becomes so familiar that we begin using it to interpret almost everything – including our faith? Christianity already contains a vocabulary that makes this really easy.

  • Growth.
  • Maturity.
  • Transformation.
  • Discipline.
  • Purpose.
  • Calling.
  • Fruitfulness.

These are biblical words. But biblical words don’t exist in a cultural vacuum. There’s a world behind words.

We bring our own meanings with us. And our culture can teach us what we think those words mean before we ever open up a Bible.

When Discipleship Became a Project

Since the age of 10, I’ve spent the bulk of my life within Canadian evangelical church culture and the world of “discipleship.” I’ve heard countless invitations to grow spiritually, become more intentional, discover God’s purpose, develop spiritual disciplines and become the person God created us to be.

For most, the language is sincere enough and can be helpful. It’s been the air that I breathe so yes, some of it helped me become a better Christian. But I’ve started wondering about something deeper. Retirement gives me more time to reflect upon my previous pastoral career and to start correcting some of my past assumptions.

What happens when discipleship becomes another project of the autonomous self? Notice a familiar pattern.

  • Here’s where you are.
  • Here’s where you should be.
  • Here are the practices that will help you get there.

Sounds like Tony Robbins Results Coaching. People pay money for this.

Then modern Christian culture can feel like corporate culture. It turns faith into a heavy list of tasks, metrics and self-improvement goals.

  • Read your Bible.
  • Pray more.
  • Fast.
  • Journal.
  • Set goals.
  • Develop better habits.
  • Discover your gifts.
  • Find your purpose.
  • Become more intentional.
  • Measure your progress.

What happens when practices intended to help us participate in God’s life become techniques for improving ourselves?

I think the difference can be difficult to see. We can pray the same prayers and read the same Bible and practice the same spiritual disciplines but our centre of gravity can subtly shift.

When Good Things Become a Hybrid

I don’t think the greatest danger is that self-optimization replaces Christian discipleship. That would be pretty easy to pick up on. The more slippery slope is when the two become almost indistinguishable. Modern self-improvement brings its language and practices into the church, while Christianity supplies those practices with biblical vocabulary.

It’s not malicious. Much may even be helpful.

But somewhere along the way, our grounded-ness can quietly shift. Of course we start with a sincere desire to follow Jesus and eventually we end up exhausting ourselves trying to become better Christians.

  • The language remains biblical.
  • The practices remain familiar.
  • The intentions may be sincere.

However, I’m concerned that our Good Shepherd can gradually disappear behind the hustle. I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable that we’re creating a kind of hybrid theology. This is when the modern project of self-improvement and the biblical invitation to discipleship blend so seamlessly that we no longer notice the difference.

The Centre of Gravity

That phrase is important to me. If I make myself the centre of the Christian story, then even God can become part of my personal development project. Here Jesus becomes a life coach I call to help me discover my purpose. 

The Bible becomes the resource that helps me make better decisions. 

Prayer becomes the place where I process my emotions and clarify my goals. 

Church becomes a community for what it can do for me. 

Discipleship becomes the pathway toward becoming the person God meant me to be.

There may be some truth in each of those statements but something changed. I am still the project. Even as a Pastor, I became my own kind of optimization project. Jesus can simply become an important resource for accomplishing it.

That isn’t quite the same thing as following Jesus.

Perhaps understanding God and faith through this therapeutic lens of our modern age quietly alters the diagnosis. Consider this.

If our deepest problem is primarily brokenness, anxiety, dysfunction or unfulfilled potential, then Jesus becomes the one who helps us heal and improve. Again, not necessarily bad in itself. However, Scripture gives us a more sobering diagnosis. Sin is serious. The Bible addresses various aspects of sin throughout and Paul goes beyond limiting it to individual wrong doing. He describes sin as a cosmic power; a tyrant of sorts that imprisons humanity. 

So our brokenness isn’t only about failure to reach our potential. It’s deeper. Yet the seriousness of sin is precisely what makes God’s grace so astonishing. God’s mercy doesn’t require us to hide our faults. Rather than covering them, God invites us to confess them without losing hope.

I am not suggesting we return to the language of hellfire and brimstone and launch guilt trips by making sin the centre of everything. I have no desire for that. But neither do I think we can place Jesus at the centre while quietly moving the Cross to the margins. When Jesus becomes our centre of gravity, both the seriousness of sin and the extravagance of grace come back into view.

What Kind of People Are We Becoming?

Since retiring at the close of 2021, I’ve asked myself lots of questions that serve as inspiration for my weekly writing. This question remains with me throughout: 

“What kind of people are we becoming?”

Maybe that question reveals more than any spiritual progress report. Are we becoming people who can:

  • Wait?
  • Rest?
  • Forgive?
  • Remain faithful when nothing all that impressive is happening?
  • Bear another person’s burden without turning it into a ministry accomplishment?
  • Live quietly?

Looking Ahead

When the big crowd goes home and the bright lights turn off, a quiet, faithful life remains. Since stepping away from 50 plus years of ministry mechanics, this Pastor From the Pasture can better see that Christian maturity isn’t measured by becoming increasingly impressive. It’s becoming increasingly faithful. It’s here, with God’s work partnering through our participation, where we all can tangibly experience God’s faithfulness. 

Are we becoming a people who don’t need every season of life to demonstrate measurable spiritual progress? A people through whom God’s faithful presence becomes visible in ordinary, unexceptional, daily rhythms of life?

Next time, we explore moving from optimization to participation in the second half of this reflection. 

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