Description
Rick Thomas’s Do You Like Me? is not just a critique of people pleasing—it is a thoroughgoing exposition of the theological and relational roots of the fear of man. This book is a richly biblical, pastorally tender, and spiritually incisive resource, steeped in gospel-saturated counsel, offering readers not only diagnosis but also a pathway toward transformation. What makes this work compelling is its relentless pursuit of the root of the problem, not merely its symptoms. Thomas does not offer behavior management; he offers a recalibrated heart centered on the unshakeable love of Christ.
A Gospel-Centered Framework
The foundational premise of this book is that the fear of man is a worship issue—a misplaced trust and affection. From the opening pages, Thomas roots his counsel in Proverbs 29:25: “The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.” That contrast—fear vs. trust, man vs. God—is the compass guiding the entire book. Rather than dismissing insecurity as a mere personality trait or blaming it on upbringing alone, Thomas calls it what it is: idolatry. Not to condemn, but to redirect the reader’s gaze to the sufficiency of Christ.
Every chapter unfolds like a counseling session: probing questions, illustrative case studies (often centering around the characters of Mable, Biff, and others), and scriptural reflections that challenge the reader to examine not just their conduct but their core allegiances. He’s not interested in helping you become more confident in yourself—he’s laboring to help you become more confident in Christ.
Thoughtful Illustrations and Case Studies
One of the strengths of this book is its narrative structure. We follow Mable—a woman shaped by parental criticism, failed relationships, and self-reliant religiosity—as she learns the difference between performing for love and obeying from love. Thomas shows, with pastoral clarity, that swapping one audience for another (man for God) without a proper understanding of the gospel only deepens the bondage. Mable’s story is not an anomaly—it is a mirror for many professing Christians whose obedience is still motivated by fear, not affection.
Each example is paired with “Call to Action” sections—incisive questions meant not to produce guilt but to provoke honest reflection. These sections are a theological scalpel, used gently yet effectively.
Recalibrating Obedience
The chapter “Pleasing God” is worth the price of the book alone. Thomas dismantles the false gospel of works-based acceptance. He reminds us that obedience is not currency for divine favor but a joyful response to already being loved in Christ. That distinction—between cause and effect—is foundational to Christian maturity. Obedience flows from affection, not anxiety.
This thread continues in chapters like “Flea Training” and “Performing Children,” where Thomas details how past shaping influences (e.g., legalistic parenting, relational manipulation, or harsh criticism) have conditioned people to live in relational captivity. But rather than blaming those influences, he calls for gospel transformation through faith, truth-speaking, and Spirit-led community.
The Church’s Role and Responsibility
Thomas does not let the church off the hook. In “Always Fearing,” he challenges local congregations to cultivate gospel-formed relationships marked by honesty, confession, and mutual care. Teaching theology is not enough; transformation happens in the context of community. He warns against churches that are “gospel-theoretical” but not gospel-functional.
He also confronts the cultural preference for individualism, counseling consumers, and fig-leaf Christianity—where believers hide behind curated images rather than walk in the light. He calls for a return to the relational ethic of the early church, shaped by truth and grace.
Tone and Theological Precision
Rick Thomas writes with clarity, theological depth, and pastoral urgency. He doesn’t shy away from hard truths, yet his tone is never condemning. His critique is not merely moral; it’s theological. He understands that behind every dysfunctional pattern is a disordered affection and a misapplied gospel. He writes as one who has walked with many through this journey, and he offers grace without compromise.
Conclusion
Do You Like Me? is a powerful reminder that the only lasting antidote to the fear of man is the fear of the Lord—a reverent trust that produces soul stability. It’s not about liking ourselves more or escaping criticism. It’s about being known, loved, and governed by the One who died for us.
This is a book that pastors, disciplers, parents, and strugglers alike should read slowly, prayerfully, and with others. It’s not just a book about insecurity. It’s a call to abandon self-salvation projects and rest in the righteousness of Christ. For the weary performer, the conditional lover, and the self-appointed image manager, this book is an invitation to gospel freedom.
Highly recommended.