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I suspect the Lord is pleased with this reinvigorated gospel focus across the broader church landscape. Whenever His creation makes much of His Son—arguably the most succinct and sufficient definition of the gospel—He is well pleased (Matthew 3:17). Jesus Christ is the good news: the Father promised Him in Genesis 3:15. He came to dwell among us in John 1:14, and we will worship Him throughout all eternity (Revelation 19:1–6). Paul preached a pure gospel to the churches of Galatia. However, it did not take long before even the great apostle Peter—the one in the innermost circle of the Savior—misrepresented it. And Paul had strong, unyielding thoughts about anyone distorting the gospel (Galatians 2:11–14).
If Peter could distort the gospel, I’m sure the rest of us are capable of twisting it, too. Hand me something good, and it won’t be long before I bend and reshape it into something distorted. That’s the condition of fallen man. Unsurprisingly, because of the popularization and widespread usage of gospel terminology, there’s an increased risk of people latching onto the language of the gospel while not truly grasping or living out its practical applications. Simply knowing gospel doctrine will not insulate you from misrepresenting gospel life.
The gospel is intrinsically good and eternally pure. But people are not, at least not apart from God’s ongoing grace. His work in us is not a one-and-done moment of transformation. It is a continual, vigilant process. We need His constant intervention in our lives until the day He perfects us in eternity. If we are not daily surrendering to the transformative power of the gospel in the context of honest, loving relationships with friends willing to hold us accountable, we will be tempted to drift, to get out of line with the gospel (Galatians 2:14).
When I first became a Christian, I stepped into a Christian culture that was deeply rooted in legalism. God saved me when I was twenty-five years old. I was so new to religious life that I did not even know John 3:16. The town I grew up in was predominantly Baptist in its culture and heritage, so it seemed logical for me to associate with them. The particular Baptist group I joined placed far more emphasis on what we did for Christ (externalism) than on who we were in Christ (internal transformation). I immediately jumped into the works of Christianity, doing the visible things that defined a faithful believer, all while failing to guard my heart against internal enemies like pride.
Gospel transformation wasn’t yet shaping my character. The gospel had reached my hands but not yet my heart. I sincerely loved God and genuinely desired to obey Him. But I didn’t yet understand how the gospel applied to the hidden secrets of my soul. I had a solid grasp of how it related to my actions and behavior but not to my motivations or attitudes. In His impeccable timing and boundless mercy, God led me to a gospel-shaped community of believers. This new gospel community did not minimize obedience—far from it.
Contrary to what some critics say about the grace crowd or the gospel-centered folks, obedience was not set aside. Rather, it was deepened. Gospel living, I learned, demands both heart and life obedience. As I continued to grow in my understanding of the gospel, I noticed that the more clearly I grasped its truth, the more my heart became soft toward Christ. And the more my heart changed, the more I was internally motivated to live for Him in tangible, practical ways. As my gospel-shaped heart matured, so did my desire to live for Jesus practically. It was refreshing.
This new gospel-centered community, which had a strong and attractive emphasis on complete, inside-out transformation, gave me a renewed passion for holiness and a deeper excitement for godliness. That season of my life was one of the most transformative I’ve ever experienced as a believer. But all was not entirely well. In time, I began to recognize similar patterns that reminded me of the old legalistic culture I had left behind. A behavioristic lifestyle—external acts divorced from internal change—began to creep into this supposedly gospel-shaped community.
It was a new culture but the same old dichotomy: looking one way in public while living another way in private. Though there were many sincere, earnest believers in this new community, I also observed a culture of learned behavior—what I now call gospel-centered legalism. Gospel vocabulary and behaviors looked polished and compelling on the outside, but beneath the surface, there lurked a quiet, insidious pride. I first began to see it when I realized I was becoming more and more like the dominant personality of the community’s leadership.
Instead of becoming more like Jesus, I was starting to mirror their traits, both good and bad. This kind of subtle transformation can happen quickly in any person or group if there are no clear, objective, measurable, and accountable checks in place. Ironically, it was just as easy to slide into gospel-centered behaviorism as it had been to live as a Baptist legalist. Though the gospel-centered life is clearly the path set before us by Christ (see John 14:6), that path can lead to ruin if we do not walk it with humble, transparent, and honest hearts before one another.
Humility is not as elusive as you might believe. God would not command us to pursue humility while placing it out of reach. He does not dangle carrots in front of His children only to yank them away. He wants us to walk in humility, and He’s eager to give this critical gift to those who ask. In contrast, leadership skills, gifting, and personality strength are not the defining traits of God’s favor. The older woman in the temple had almost nothing to offer, and yet her humble heart caught the gaze of God (Mark 12:42). The wealthy, famous, and influential people of Jesus’ day did not attract His attention the way humble, trusting hearts did.
God does not measure us by popularity or performance. Humility, born of faith in God, is what turns His face toward us (James 4:6). This trait is the bedrock of a gospel-shaped life. Yet, we often become enamored with external appearances. We see gifting and assume godliness. We see charisma and assume Christlikeness. But we do not know the heart—and sometimes we don’t even want to. That reluctance to understand what’s really going on in someone else’s life reveals a desire to keep things clean, convenient, and safe. “What I don’t know won’t hurt me” is a lie from the pit. A humble, mature community is essential if gospel-centered living is going to flourish. Tragically, in my gospel community, I observed a visible line of division between what was shown in public and what was hidden in private. And that hidden life—unseen and unaddressed—is where pride was allowed to fester.
The Bible and the Spirit are our best and most trustworthy defenses for keeping our lives aligned with the gospel. Biblical submission to God and His Word is both wise and essential. But in His kindness, the Lord gives us more than just Scripture and His indwelling presence. He gives us people. He gives us a community. He gives us relationships to serve as practical, tangible means of grace to help us stay the course. Gospel-centered friends are not a luxury—they are a necessity. But there’s a condition: this only works if you’re willing to open your life up to loving examination from those friends who care for you and who love the glory of God more than your approval.
Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy (Proverbs 27:6).
Let’s be clear: Peter loved the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s not in dispute. He was genuinely transformed by the gospel, no question about it. But Peter strayed from the gospel that he preached. Let that truth settle in. Consider the gravity of it. Peter needed a friend to pull him back to the gospel he loved. What he didn’t need was a polite, self-protecting echo chamber community that told him only what he wanted to hear. He didn’t need affirmation; he needed confrontation. Paul was such a friend. And what did Paul do? He rebuked Peter—his friend, his fellow apostle—because Peter was perverting the gospel (Galatians 2:11). He was not living in step with the truth he claimed to believe.
Now consider this: no one alive today comes close to Peter’s stature in terms of true biblical greatness. He walked with the incarnate Word of God. He witnessed the Transfiguration. He saw the risen Christ and gave his life in martyrdom. Though he denied the Lord before the crucifixion and later compromised again after the resurrection, Peter’s role in God’s redemptive story is unmatched, yet Peter still distorted the gospel. I think we can safely conclude that you and I, no matter our doctrine, ministry, or passion, can do the same. The question becomes deeply personal: Do you have a friend like Paul, someone who loves God enough and loves you enough to help you walk in line with the gospel?
How open are you—truly open—to those who are willing to speak candidly and courageously into your life? These kinds of relationships don’t simply appear. They don’t form by chance or flourish by passivity. For me, this is a defining litmus test when I consider the depth and authenticity of my closest relationships. I must have people around me who care enough to speak into my life. And I want to be the kind of person who speaks into others’ lives with the same conviction. I realize this level of relational reciprocity is not common, which is a tragedy. But the effect of not having these relationships in place, of not inviting people to tell us the truth, can lead to generational dysfunction. It doesn’t just stay with us. It spreads. It multiplies. If you’re longing for gospel-centered friends who walk with honesty and conviction, here are some guideposts—some practical tips to help you think through how to pray, how to change, and what to pursue:
This list could serve as a means of grace in your life—one that helps sustain practical gospel living for years to come. But you need to take it seriously. Go back over the list. Reflect deeply. Honestly assess yourself. How are you doing? Will you be courageous enough to ask someone to evaluate you in each of these areas? Do you truly believe you are capable of distorting the gospel? I can’t overemphasize the urgency and significance of these questions. If you can find a group of friends who are serious about this kind of honest gospel-centered living, you are poised to take the next step—to dig deeper—and to build a kind of gospel community that many people talk about but few ever actually experience.
The following questions are not theoretical—they’re personal. My wife and I return to them regularly. Our goal, our shared hope, and our continual prayer are not merely to know the gospel intellectually or defend it doctrinally. We want to be authentically and practically transformed by it. Gospel information without transformation is deception. So ask yourself:
That final question exposes the subtle counterfeit of humility. This tactic is how we present humility while hiding in reality. It’s not humility at all; it’s image management. And this problem, this tendency, is the core warning and burden of this chapter. It’s what I encountered in my former gospel community. It looked gospel-centered on the surface, but beneath that surface, something self-centered and prideful was often protected and left untouched. The first set of questions above was for you—to assess your life. But this next set of questions is for your role in the lives of others. If you want to live out the gospel with sincerity and boldness, if you want to be more like Paul in the life of a wavering Peter, you will need grace, wisdom, and courage:
If King David or the apostle Peter—two of the most gifted and influential men in all of Scripture—could fall because of pride, don’t think for a moment that you and I are exempt. We are not. Not even close.
The doctrine of sin tells a different story. While cynicism and suspicion are sinful, that doesn’t mean we’re called to a naïve or passive version of trust. God calls us to loving and courageous discernment. And yes, there’s a difference.
It is unnecessary—even superfluous—to ask someone whether they are struggling with sin. The better, more biblical question is: How can I serve you in your struggle with sin? Sin is a given. It is the assumption. It lives within us, around us, and, apart from God’s grace, it defines us. Do not assume otherwise, regardless of how gifted, articulate, or respected a person may appear. No matter how right we are—or how right we think we are—God is not reluctant to oppose the proud. He is not afraid to take us down if pride rules our hearts. Let that truth serve as a warning and a grace. God will not compete with us for glory. He resists the proud but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6). May we learn this lesson early and take it seriously. God does not bless us because of our efforts to impress. He blesses those who genuinely humble themselves before their Maker and before one another.
Don’t wait until pride hardens your heart and your community becomes a stage for performance rather than a place for transformation. The gospel calls us to more. Today, take time to revisit the questions in this chapter. Open your life to inspection. Initiate an honest conversation with someone who loves you enough to speak the truth. Let the gospel shape your heart, your relationships, and your daily life. Don’t settle for a version of Christianity that looks good on the outside while remaining untouched on the inside. Pursue the kind of community that helps you walk in line with the truth of Christ.
Rick launched the Life Over Coffee global training network in 2008 to bring hope and help for you and others by creating resources that spark conversations for transformation. His primary responsibilities are resource creation and leadership development, which he does through speaking, writing, podcasting, and educating.
In 1990 he earned a BA in Theology and, in 1991, a BS in Education. In 1993, he received his ordination into Christian ministry, and in 2000 he graduated with an MA in Counseling from The Master’s University. In 2006 he was recognized as a Fellow of the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors (ACBC).