What is a Christian - Part 3

You ever meet someone who says they’ll come to church “once they get their life together”? It’s like saying you’ll take a shower after you stop being dirty. Doesn’t make much sense, but we do it all the time.

Somewhere along the way, we convinced ourselves that Christianity is a reward for the cleaned-up. Like Jesus is standing at the door with a clipboard, checking if we’ve kicked the bad habits, stopped cussing, started tithing, and finally joined the right small group. Then, maybe, we’re allowed in.

But that’s not the Gospel. That’s religion pretending to be grace.

Grace doesn’t wait for you to be good enough. It meets you in the mess. It pulls you out of it and starts the real cleanup — from the inside out.

The Dirty Work of Grace

Let’s be real. Sin is ugly. It wrecks things — marriages, minds, friendships, futures. And if we’re honest, most of us try to hide it under layers of performance. We think if we serve enough, smile enough, or quote enough verses, we can cover the stench.

But sin doesn’t wash off with good behavior. It takes blood — the blood of Jesus. That’s not a comfortable image, but it’s a necessary one. Because grace isn’t cheap, and forgiveness isn’t sentimental. It cost something.

Jesus didn’t hang on that cross so you could live a slightly improved version of your old life. He died to resurrect you into a new one.

Paul says it plain in 2 Corinthians 5:17: “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

That’s not a self-help verse. That’s a death-and-rebirth verse.

Religion Says “Do.” Jesus Says “Done.”

Religion will hand you a to-do list. Pray more. Read more. Stop sinning. Be better. And then it leaves you drowning in guilt when you fail.

Jesus doesn’t hand you a list — He hands you a cross. He says, “It’s finished.” The work’s already done. You’re not earning His love; you’re living from it.

That’s what separates real Christianity from every other system on earth. Every religion says “Work your way up.” Jesus says, “I came down.”

And once you get that — really get it — obedience stops feeling like obligation. It becomes gratitude. You start following not because you’re scared of punishment, but because you’re amazed by mercy.

Growth Is Messy, But It’s Real

Now, don’t mistake grace for a free pass. It’s not a license to keep sinning and call it “being real.” Grace doesn’t excuse sin; it empowers transformation.

The Holy Spirit takes up residence in your heart and starts rearranging the furniture. Sometimes He moves slow. Sometimes He flips tables. But either way, He’s not leaving you how He found you.

Growth isn’t linear. You’ll take two steps forward, one back, maybe trip over your own pride and fall on your face. But if you keep getting back up and walking toward Jesus, that’s what sanctification looks like — messy progress in the right direction.

Philippians 1:6 says, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.” Translation: God finishes what He starts. You’re not a lost cause.

Church Isn’t a Museum; It’s a Hospital

Somewhere, we got this idea that church is for people who already have it together — that it’s the gathering of the spiritually elite. But the truth is, church should look more like a trauma ward than a trophy room. Everyone in there is bleeding from somewhere. Some wounds are just better hidden.

When we stop pretending and start confessing, that’s when the real healing begins. Scripture says, “Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” Not judged — healed. So if you’re sitting on the fence, thinking you’ve got to scrub yourself clean before showing up, stop it. That’s pride talking, not holiness. God isn’t impressed by your self-sufficiency. He’s drawn to your surrender.

Jesus Meets You Where You Are — But He Won’t Leave You There

The beautiful, terrifying truth is that Jesus takes you as you are — but He refuses to let you stay that way. He meets you in the dirt, then calls you higher.

Think of the woman caught in adultery. The crowd wanted her condemned. Jesus stooped down, wrote in the dust, and said, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone.” Everyone dropped their rocks. Then He looked at her and said, “Neither do I condemn you… now go and sin no more.” Grace first. Then truth. That’s the order. He didn’t excuse her sin, but He also didn’t crush her with it. He forgave her, then set her free to live differently. That’s the Gospel — mercy that moves you.

Stop Trying to Clean Yourself Up

So, stop trying to clean yourself up before you come to Christ. That’s not faith; that’s control. You don’t wash before the shower. You get in the shower — and let the water do what it’s meant to do. Jesus already knows the junk you’re hiding. The addiction, the bitterness, the shame — none of it shocks Him. He still calls you His.

The question is: will you let Him do the cleaning? Because when you finally stop scrubbing in your own strength and step into His grace, you’ll realize something simple but life-changing: holiness isn’t a requirement for coming to Jesus. It’s the result of staying close to Him.

We started with what it’s not — a cultural label. Then looked at what we believe — the core truths that anchor us. And now, we’ve landed where it all points: a living, breathing relationship with a Savior who meets you where you are and makes you new.