When Faith Becomes Performance
The Mask We Don’t Mean to Put On
Can we talk about authenticity?
If I’m being really honest here—for the sake of authenticity (see what I did there?)—I have to admit I had an authenticity problem.
For years.
Really.
For the majority of my life.
Why?
I want to say, “It’s simple.”
But that’s not really true, is it?
Most of us don’t wake up in the morning and think, “Today, I’m going to put on a mask instead of being my true self.”
Maybe on Halloween, but… too far?
Bad dad joke?
Right. Right.
Anyway.
After loads of therapy and lots of introspection, I’ve come to understand that my own authenticity problem grew out of a desperate need to people-please, some unhealthy theology that taught me I needed to be selfless at all times, and a belief that in order to succeed, I had to perform well, earn gold stars, and chase perfection at all costs.
Reading that makes me understand why my therapy bills were so high.
When Performance Looks Like Faithfulness
These things showed up in my real life in all sorts of ways:
Constantly shining a spotlight on my (ex)husband so he looked great to everyone else
Never saying no to anyone
Being present at church with a fake smile every time the doors were open
Sacrificing my own needs so everyone else was happy and taken care of
Hiding all of my flaws
Making excuses for any perceived weakness
Justifying my actions to make myself look better
Oof.
That gave me anxiety just typing it.
Thankfully, I found a good therapist who helped me dismantle these patterns, heal from them, and learn to live authentically as the imperfect human God created me to be.
Imperfect being the key word here.
The Posture Jesus Actually Honors
I might be authentic—but I’m still far from perfect.
And I genuinely believe God honors my authenticity about my imperfection.
Why?
I could list a hundred real-world examples, but instead, I want to point you to one of Jesus’ teachings in Luke 18.
Jesus told this parable to people who were convinced they were morally upright—those who trusted in their own virtue while looking down on others with disgust:
“Two men went into the temple to pray. One was a proud religious leader, the other a despised tax collector.
The religious leader stood apart and prayed, ‘God, I thank you that I am not wicked like everyone else—cheaters, swindlers, and crooks—like that tax collector over there. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I earn.’
The tax collector stood off by himself, not even daring to look up to heaven. Beating his chest, he cried, ‘God, please be merciful to me, a sinner.’
Jesus said the tax collector—not the religious leader—went home reconciled to God. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
—Luke 18:9–14 (TPT)
For years, I thought this parable was mostly about the posture of prayer.
And while that’s part of it, I think it’s actually about something deeper.
It’s about the posture of our hearts—not just in prayer, but in how we live.
Honest Hearts and Open Tables
The religious leader’s heart says, “Thank God I’m not like him.”
The tax collector’s heart is undone by mercy—fully aware of his need, and unafraid to name it.
Jesus doesn’t say, “Be like the religious leader.”
Thankfully.
He says, “Be like the tax collector—humbled and reconciled to God.”
One showed up performing.
One showed up honestly.
One was authentic.
One was not.
Pulling Out Chairs Instead of Pointing Fingers
This week—in the news and across social media—I’ve watched a lot of people who claim to love Jesus pull out their metaphorical pitchforks.
Lots of judgment.
Lots of outrage.
Lots of misinformation passed off as righteousness.
Not a lot of humility.
Not a lot of love.
Lots of pointing out specks.
Not much acknowledgment of planks.
Lots of removing seats from tables.
Not a lot of pulling out chairs.
Many of us have been deeply wounded by people who look an awful lot like these folks and the religious leader Jesus warned us about.
And if we’re being honest?
Some of us have been that person, too.
Choosing a Different Posture
The good news is this: it’s never too late to change our posture.
Jesus still welcomes us to the table with our mess.
He still pulls out the chair.
He still invites us to sit down right in the middle of our unresolved, complicated, unfinished stories.
He offers mercy in the place of our performance.
Presence in our imperfection.
And if we want to follow Jesus, we don’t just receive that grace.
We practice it.
We set the table.
We make room.
We show up honestly—without masks, without moral scorecards, without pretending we’re better than we are.
For years, my posture mirrored the religious leader’s.
But by the grace of God, it looks a lot more like the tax collector’s now.
Humbled.
Honest.
Still learning.
And finally—free enough to sit at the table as I am.
A Seat at the Table
If this reflection stirred something in you—resistance, recognition, or maybe relief—you don’t have to process it alone.
Pull up a chair.
Read slowly.
And when you’re ready, share your thoughts in the comments or pass this along to someone who’s been hurt by performative faith and is longing for something more honest.
There’s room at the table for you.
Reflection for the Road
Where in your life are you still tempted to perform instead of show up honestly? What feels at risk if you let that mask go?
When you think about your current posture toward God, who do you resemble more—the religious leader or the tax collector? Why do you think that is?
Have you been wounded by someone who prioritized being “right” over being loving? How has that shaped the way you approach faith—or the church—now?
What would it look like for you to sit at the table as you are today—not more healed, not more certain, not more put together? What fears come up when you imagine that?
Where might Jesus be inviting you to extend the same grace you’ve needed—to yourself or to others?
If you’re rebuilding your faith after spiritual abuse or religious trauma, you should check out my book, Breathing Again.
Looking for a journal for the new year? I have a few options available on Amazon as well.
You can find them here.
