We’ve all seen them: people who are naturally gifted performers. Those who, when handed a microphone in front of an audience, have no problem talking and entertaining, and are not only not afraid, but actually enjoy the experience. Whether I like it or not, I am one of those people. It’s equal parts personality and skill set, and I have been performing for as long as I can remember: from ballet and gymnastics in grade school, to soccer and drama club in high school, to today as a performing symphony musician. 

A life of performance often brings along with it a life of comparison and competition, and without intention or realization, these modes of living and interacting seeped into my views of God and how I related to him and others. Throughout high school and college, I was taught the message that God had created and called me for a “special purpose” – something important that I needed to accomplish for God – and the greatest thing I could do was get out there and make the biggest impact possible for his kingdom. 

In this pursuit of impact, I experienced fatigue and disillusionment. But of course, we all know that’s par for the course (...right?). It wasn’t until I started reading the teachings of a popular Christian teacher that I started to think maybe I didn’t need to work so hard, produce so much. This teacher did not live at a frenetic pace or worry about the breadth of his reach. He didn’t seem to stress about output, productivity, efficiency, platform, or impact. You’ve probably heard of him; his name is Jesus.

In a book called “Liturgy of the Ordinary,” author Tish Warren recalls Jesus’ baptism and how he comes up out of the water to the voice of the Father saying, “This is my beloved Son, and I’m so proud of him.” This is before Jesus had “accomplished” anything; he hadn’t performed any miracles or preached any sermons. Warren points out that Jesus entered his public ministry not in order to earn the Father’s love, but from a place of already being the Beloved. And that is true of us, too. We don’t do anything to earn the Father’s love. We already are the beloved.

Theological Prepositions 

About ten years ago, I read a book called “With” by Skye Jethani. This book changed how I lived in relation to God. In it, Jethani discusses the four most popular postures we assume when relating to God: for, from, under, and over.

1) For: we strive to live a life for God, working tirelessly to have the greatest impact we can for him and his kingdom; 2) From: we see God as a cosmic vending machine and if we do the right things and make the necessary sacrifices, we will get what we want from God; 3) Under: we live our lives in fear of God, knowing that if we mess up or make a wrong choice, it’s just a matter of time before the hammer drops. (Sinners and an angry God, you know?) And, 4) Over: we don’t need God. We work hard, save wisely, and don’t leave anything to chance. 

Throughout the book, Jethani discusses the faults with each of these prepositional postures, and helpfully suggests the one God desires: with. God created us to live with him, in fellowship, love, and joy. He doesn’t need us to do anything, and yet he lovingly invites us to partner with him in what he is doing.

I realize there is a bit of nuance here, but that is where beauty and depth are found. And in living a life with God – instead of for him – there is relief, a release from performance. We can step off of our competition pedestals and into a shared yoke with Christ and rest in a life lived with him. 

It Was Never About Earning

For most of my life, I failed to see the problem with the elder brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son. The younger brother was disrespectful, wasteful, and stupid. He got what he deserved. I identified very much with the older brother. But when the father comes looking for him during the party (isn’t that beautiful?!) and asks what’s wrong, the older brother reveals that he has the same problem as the younger brother.

Both wanted only what the father could provide and not a relationship with the father himself; it’s just that one employed illegitimate means while the other tried to use legitimate ones. The younger son had certainly not earned the father’s love and blessing, but neither had the older son, because it was never about earning. It was always about relationship. 

As you go through your day today and throughout this week, remember first that you are already beloved by God. Move from that place of belovedness. Second, examine what posture you assume before God: are you living for him, from him, under him, over him, or are you enjoying living life with him? And lastly, take time to consider which brother you resonate with and why. Is your highest desire to be with the Father, or simply what you can get from him? 

Remember, “a person is not justified by the works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ…” Good works won’t redeem you, your pastor, or even Mother Teresa. We are justified by Christ. Rest in that today.