I’ve been reading Presence by Jon Thompson, and one idea has me thinking about how we practice our faith and interact with the world around us.
He describes three priorities that shape our approach: right thinking, right living, and improving society. What we believe, how we behave, and how we engage with our communities.
We need all three. But when one becomes our overriding concern, it can shape our faith in ways we don’t always recognize.
When right thinking becomes our primary focus, we care deeply about protecting the truth. We want sound theology, biblical teaching, and clear convictions. Those are good and necessary things.
But we can become so focused on protecting our beliefs that we shield ourselves from anyone who might challenge them. Our circles get smaller. Our conversations become more predictable. We read people we already agree with and spend most of our time with people who see the world as we do.
Eventually, we may know how to explain our faith but have very few meaningful relationships with people who don’t share it.
We’re called to share the gospel, and sharing it requires being present in people’s lives. Conviction should give us the confidence to enter those relationships with humility and love.
Then there’s right living. We want our choices to reflect Jesus. We care about integrity, obedience, and holiness. Our faith should make a difference in how we live.
But we can become so focused on behavior that we miss the heart.
We notice what someone says, wears, drinks, or does on a weekend, and make assumptions about their relationship with God. We learn to look like we have it together. We become skilled at managing appearances while leaving pride, resentment, fear, or a lack of love largely untouched.
And we can do that to other people, too. We become more interested in correcting what we can see than understanding what’s happening beneath the surface.
Someone may need a patient friend, room to tell the truth, or help working through pain. We offer them a list of things to fix.
Am I helping people become more like Jesus throughout their lives, including their desires and motives? Do people feel safe being honest before they’ve figured everything out?
I also appreciate the book’s reminder that pursuing holiness leaves room to enjoy the goodness God has placed in the world. Sin has affected everything, but that doesn’t mean everything is entirely evil. There is still beauty to notice, friendship to enjoy, music that moves us, and a good meal worth lingering over.
We can receive those things with gratitude while remaining attentive to what is shaping our hearts. Enjoying life and pursuing holiness belong together. A life formed by Jesus should have room for joy.
When improving society becomes our primary focus, we move more toward the world. We see suffering and want to respond. We build partnerships, serve our neighbors, and get involved in the issues affecting our communities.
I believe deeply that local churches should make a meaningful difference where God has placed them.
But we can become so immersed in the world around us that we stop examining what is shaping us. Our desire to connect can make us reluctant to disagree or live differently. We may begin adopting the assumptions, priorities, and measures of success of the culture around us without giving them much thought as they seep in over time.
We want people to feel loved and welcomed. But are we still allowing the Holy Spirit to transform us and trusting that Jesus' invitation to a different way of life is good news for our neighbors, too?
Engagement requires discernment. Otherwise, we can become busy doing good while slowly losing sight of the One that brought us there.
Reading this part of the book has me thinking about how much these three priorities need each other.
Right thinking helps us discern what is true. Right living asks whether that truth is changing us. Improving society moves us toward neighbors who need our love.
Together, they call us into a faith that has roots, bears fruit, and reaches beyond ourselves.
I can see how easy it would be to settle into whichever of these feels most natural to me. It’s harder to let the others expose what I’ve neglected.
So I’m asking myself: Where have I become too sheltered? Where have I been more concerned with looking faithful than allowing God to change my heart? And where have I become too comfortable with the world’s assumptions?