When connection to God becomes a performance review

The Potential Danger of Spiritual Disciplines

“God is not a scorekeeper. Spiritual practices are not extra credit. They are how we learn to be present with a God who already loves us.”Rachel Held Evans

Practical life disciplines are good things. What they potentially do for the body, for the mind, for the house, for the checkbook.

There’s something about setting a rhythm, a habit, a little rule of life that keeps the mess from stacking up too high in any one corner. Discipline can be a gift.

But just like fire warms a home or burns it to the ground — so too, spiritual disciplines can go sideways real fast.

Spiritual disciplines, when rooted in grace, can be life-giving. But when they get tangled up in performance, they can twist into something toxic.

And I’ve been there — knee-deep in the weeds of performance-based Christianity, holding my Bible like a scorecard. I wondered why my prayer and Bible reading time started feeling dry.

The Gift of the Practice

Let’s be clear: discipline in itself isn’t the problem. Jesus often withdrew to lonely places to pray (Luke 5:16). He fasted. He quoted Scripture from memory. He got up early. So I’m not knocking the idea of showing up for your faith.

But there’s a big difference between practicing your faith and performing it.

Spiritual disciplines — whether it’s prayer, meditation, journaling, fasting, or a daily quiet time — were never meant to be audition tapes for God’s approval.

They were supposed to be ways to stay rooted, to listen more deeply, to remember we are loved.

But we humans — we like gold stars. We like checking boxes. And somewhere along the line, we trade being with God for trying to impress God.

When Quiet Time Turns Into a Chore Chart

For years, I woke up early and had a “quiet time.” That’s what we called it in my church circles. It sounded peaceful and holy. Except, it wasn’t always.

Sometimes it was dry. Sometimes I fell asleep halfway through the prayer. Sometimes I read three chapters and didn’t feel one ounce closer to God.

And instead of grace, I gave myself guilt.

I’d feel bad if I skipped a day. Worse if I missed two. By day three, I was convinced God was giving me the silent treatment and I’d better double up on devotions just to get back in His good graces.

Can you see how that’s not relationship? That’s performance. That’s trying to earn something I already had.

Meditation: Still or Stuck?

Let’s talk about meditation. I love the stillness of it. I love the breath. I love the presence.

But I’ve also used it to try to feel spiritual — like if I could just empty my mind enough, sit still long enough, and focus hard enough, maybe God would show up.

But God is not a vending machine, and silence is not the coin you drop in to get a revelation.

Sometimes God speaks in silence. Sometimes God speaks while you’re loading the dishwasher or driving to work or folding laundry.

The danger of spiritual discipline is not in the practice itself. It’s in turning the practice into a formula.

From Being to Earning

Christian author Sarah Bessey said it like this:

“Spiritual practices are not a way to earn anything. They are ways to be with the One who already loves us.”

There it is. Right there.

• You don’t fast to get God’s attention. You already have it.

• You don’t pray to make God love you more. God already does.

• You don’t meditate to find God. He’s not lost. He’s already present.

  
  

The moment you start measuring your worth by your consistency, your spiritual life becomes a spreadsheet. And God does not keep spreadsheets on your soul.

Like Sitting on the Porch with God

I once heard someone say spiritual disciplines should feel like sitting on the porch with God, not like checking in with your parole officer.

You don’t sit on the porch to prove anything. You sit because you like the company. You sit to breathe. To notice the wind. To laugh about the day. To just be.

The danger comes when we treat the porch like a podium and think we have to deliver some kind of perfect speech every time we pray.

Paul Had a Word or Two

Paul said something to the Galatians that smacks me every time I forget grace:

“After beginning by means of the Spirit, are you now trying to finish by means of the flesh?” (Galatians 3:3, NIV)

He’s saying: You started off resting in God’s love, now you’re trying to earn it? You started in freedom, now you’re trying to hustle?

Been there. Bought the matching devotional journal.

When the Disciplines Become Distractions

Even good things can become idols. Even prayer can become a performance if the motivation isn’t love. Even reading Scripture can become a competition if you’re more focused on the number of chapters than the voice of the Spirit.

I’ve caught myself doing “the right things” but for all the wrong reasons.

Not because I was hungry for God.But because I was scared He was mad.

Not because I wanted closeness.But because I thought I had to fix myself.

Spiritual disciplines become dangerous when they’re no longer about presence, but about penance.

Spiritual Gym vs. Spiritual Hospital

Think of it like this. If you’re going to the gym to build strength, that’s great. But if you’ve broken your leg and you’re trying to walk it off on the treadmill, you’re just making things worse.

Sometimes we try to use spiritual disciplines like gym equipment when what we really need is a hospital bed.

Sometimes we don’t need to pray more.

We need to rest.

Sometimes we don’t need to fast.

We need to grieve.

Sometimes we don’t need to be silent.

We need to speak up.

And sometimes, God’s grace shows up not in our spiritual strength — but in our spiritual collapse.

It’s Not About the Performance

Henri Nouwen once wrote:

“You are the beloved. Not because you’re good. Not because you’re faithful. Not because you’re disciplined. But because you are.”

We don’t work our way into God’s love.We wake up into it.We fall asleep in it.We breathe it in with no effort.

Spiritual disciplines should help us remember that.

But when they don’t — when they start piling on shame instead of peace, when they make us feel distant instead of drawn in, when they become about doing instead of being — then it’s okay to step back.

Not to quit.

But to reset.

A Gentle Reset

If you’re feeling dry or disconnected, maybe it’s not because you’re undisciplined. Maybe it’s because the rhythm has gotten out of sync with your heart.

Try something different. Don’t scrap the whole thing. Just shift the focus.

Maybe swap your morning quiet time for an afternoon walk. Maybe listen to music instead of journaling. Maybe put down the checklist and pick up a nap. Or a conversation with a friend. Or a psalm read slowly, like honey on the tongue.

Because the disciplines are not the destination.

God is.

And He’s not hiding behind your schedule.

He’s already with you.

Even in the weeds.

© Gary L Ellis