Christianity Today, Slow Down. God’s Grace Doesn’t Require Us to Grind., by Alexander Sosler (Montreat College; Author, A Short Guide to Spiritual Formation: Finding Life in Truth, Goodness, Beauty, and Community (2024) (Christianity Today Christian Living Book of the Year (2024)):

I’m what some would call a competitive person. I hate losing more than I like winning. As I tell my 6-year-old son before his soccer games, “Have fun today. But remember: Winning is more fun.” My wife doesn’t like it, but it’s true.

I like striving for excellence and cultivating discipline. I want to be the best—to out-train, outwork, and outcompete the competition. This drive and aversion to losing has been helpful in almost every area of my life. I mostly like this trait that I have. But in the life of faith, I also think my drive to be the best can make me the spiritually worst.

As I scroll through the social media world, I’ve noticed a new generation of influencers, mostly men, who target men like me. I’m a millennial, and it seems my algorithm wants to capture and capitalize on my attention—selling me on a “rise and grind” mentality that, at first, seems rather winsome. …

But underneath these modern messages is also a deeper, more distorted desire: There’s always more to do, more to read, more money to make, more experiences to have, more people to beat. Life is set up for the grind. Perform. Do better. Money is power, so get some. And what young people can’t know yet is that this mindset leaves you exhausted.

In Christianity, we call upon a higher standard of grace, which has nothing to do with our effort or striving.

You can’t hack your way to holiness because holiness is slow work—a “long obedience in the same direction” as Eugene Peterson said. Formation is less about productivity and more about stillness. This way of life requires discipline, but it’s a discipline of absence, not performance. The battle cry of formation isn’t necessarily “Fight for the Lord!” but “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still” (Ex. 14:14). …

Instead of boasting about his spiritual pedigree and experience to the Corinthian church to prove his legitimacy, [Paul] brags about his failures and weaknesses: imprisonments, lashes, danger, hunger, thirst. (2 Cor. 11-12).

The reason for this is that ever since God told Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness,” Paul made up his mind to “boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Cor. 12:9).

For Paul, perseverance involved letting go. Formation was submission. His weakness proved God’s power, which means the scandal of perseverance is this: Even in the emptiness, God loves us.

“We are not what we do. We are not what we have. We are not what others think of us,” writes Henri Nouwen. “Coming home is claiming the truth. I am the beloved child of a loving Creator.” We are God’s beloved children no matter how well we hold on to faith, no matter what fitness hacks we accomplish, no matter what level of income we have, and even no matter what routines we establish.

“We are not what we do. We are not what we have. We are not what others think of us,” writes Henri Nouwen. “Coming home is claiming the truth. I am the beloved child of a loving Creator.” We are God’s beloved children no matter how well we hold on to faith, no matter what fitness hacks we accomplish, no matter what level of income we have, and even no matter what routines we establish.

So in those moments when you’re exhausted from the hustle and you feel like you’re at the end of your proverbial rope, God is there, and you are still his beloved. This is a terrifying truth. But it’s also really good news.

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