A call to deeper devotion

Over the years I’ve (Anthony) been told I’m pretty tough when it comes to holiness, purity, discipline, being biblically literate, and spiritual disciplines. I’ve been called extreme—too much—even accused of going overboard when it comes to living a life that genuinely pleases the Lord. And what’s interesting is that this hasn’t come from unbelievers. It’s come from believers: lay people, volunteers, leaders, and even people running their own ministry organizations.

Here’s my honest take: I don’t think I’m “too much.” I think I’m trying to live as biblical as possible. If the Word is true, then it isn’t meant to be admired from a distance. It’s meant to be obeyed. Jesus didn’t invite people to a casual association—He invited people to follow Him. Discipleship isn’t a churchy label; it’s a life surrendered. “If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23). That’s not extreme. That’s normal Christianity.

One of the reasons this feels “overboard” in our moment is because we’ve normalized a faith that stays shallow by choice. We’ve learned how to attend and agree without having to actually change. But Scripture doesn’t leave room for a version of devotion where Jesus gets a slice instead of the whole. The first commandment isn’t “love the Lord with part of your heart when it’s convenient.” It’s love Him with all of it—heart, soul, mind, and strength (Matthew 22:37). “All” means there’s no safe corner of our life we keep locked away from His lordship.

When I look at the Jewish people throughout history, I’m struck by something: Torah wasn’t optional. Devotion wasn’t a hobby. Their faith wasn’t built around “levels” of commitment—like you can choose basic, intermediate, or advanced depending on your personality. Their lives were shaped by the reality that they belonged to God. There was a weight to their worship, a seriousness to their obedience, and an understanding that faith is meant to touch everything: their thinking, their family life, their ethics, their rhythms, their community, their speech, their money, their time.

Now, I’m not saying we’re under the old covenant system, or that we’re called to earn God’s love through performance. We’re saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8–9). But grace doesn’t downgrade devotion—it fuels it. Grace isn’t permission to stay immature; it’s power to grow up. The same grace that saves also trains. It teaches us to say no to ungodliness and to live upright lives (Titus 2:11–12). If my “grace” never leads me into obedience, I’m not experiencing grace the way the New Testament describes it.

So let me ask it plainly: why can’t it be all or nothing for us? Why do we willingly accept shallow faith when Jesus paid so much to redeem us? Scripture warns what shallow faith produces instability. “So that we are no longer children, tossed here and there by waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine” (Ephesians 4:14). When devotion is thin, discernment stays weak. When the Word is neglected, confusion grows. When prayer is occasional, we’re surprised when temptation feels loud. And when discipline is treated like legalism, we end up with believers who love the idea of Jesus but struggle to follow Him when it costs something.

This is why holiness matters—not because we’re trying to impress God, but because we’re trying to be faithful to Him. “Like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior” (1 Peter 1:15–16). That’s not a suggestion for the “extra serious” Christian. That’s the calling of every believer. And Hebrews puts it in sobering terms: “Pursue… holiness, without which no one will see the Lord” (Hebrews 12:14). Holiness is not optional for intimacy. You can’t claim closeness while living in compromise. You can’t cultivate a vibrant prayer life while feeding what dulls your spirit. Discipleship is about alignment—bringing your whole life under the leadership of Jesus.

And yes, discipline is part of this. Not discipline as punishment, but discipline as training. Paul told Timothy, “Discipline yourself for the purpose of godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7). In other words: train your life so your love for God isn’t just a feeling, but a lifestyle. If you don’t build rhythms, you’ll be ruled by cravings. If you don’t make space for the Word, you’ll be shaped by whatever you scroll. If you don’t practice prayer, you’ll be prayerless under pressure. This is why Scripture calls us to let the Word dwell richly in us (Colossians 3:16) and to become doers, not just hearers (James 1:22).

Biblical literacy matters because deception is real, and spiritual maturity is not automatic. The Bereans were called noble because they searched the Scriptures to test what they were hearing (Acts 17:11). That’s the posture we need again—not cynical, but serious. Not argumentative, but grounded. And the reason is simple: Scripture equips us. It trains us. It makes us stable. “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable… so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16–17). A disciple isn’t just someone who has experiences with God. A disciple is someone being formed by truth.

If this feels “too much,” it might be because we’ve been discipled by a culture that teaches comfort is the goal. But Jesus didn’t call us to comfort—He called us to Himself. And the beautiful thing is that discipleship isn’t powered by willpower alone. God doesn’t just command holiness; He supplies help. “Work out your salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12–13). That means when you decide to obey, you’re not doing it alone. When you set your life to seek Him, He meets you with grace and strength.

So here’s the invitation: stop negotiating with the call of Jesus. Stop treating devotion like a personality type. Give Him your “yes” in practical ways. Build a real prayer life. Choose purity when nobody’s watching. Get serious about Scripture. Train your habits. Cut off what feeds compromise. Lean into community that challenges you to grow. Not because you’re trying to earn anything, but because He’s worth everything.

Jesus said, “Abide in Me… for apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). That’s the center of it: we’re not chasing intensity for intensity’s sake. We’re pursuing closeness. We’re pursuing obedience because we want to be with Him, like Him, and faithful to Him.

Shallow faith will always be fragile. But deep devotion produces steady disciples—people who don’t collapse when pressure comes, who don’t drift when doctrine shifts, and who don’t compromise when temptation knocks. And in a generation where so much is being shaken, we need believers who are rooted. Not extreme—just real.