When people talk about the biggest threats to the Christian faith today, they usually point to outside forces. Secularism. Cultural shifts. Political pressure. And while those certainly present challenges, I believe the real dangers are actually much closer to home.

The truth is, two internal threats pose perhaps the most urgent risk to authentic Christian faith in our time: Christian nationalism and Christian nominalism.

Christian nationalism is the fusion of faith and politics, where allegiance to Christ gets tangled up with allegiance to a particular political agenda. In extreme cases, this mindset has even been used to justify violence, as we’ve seen in recent tragic events. It’s a distortion of the gospel that not only misrepresents the heart of Jesus, but fuels the growing perception that Christians are either delusional or dangerous.

But for most of us, the more subtle—and maybe more personal—danger is Christian nominalism. It’s the kind of shallow, non-committal faith that might change your Sunday schedule, but not your life. It creates churches that feel more like social clubs, and believers who function more like spectators. It’s a faith that costs nothing—and therefore changes nothing.

Of course, this isn’t a new problem. John Wesley saw it in his own day. In his sermon The Almost Christian, he described people who looked religious on the outside—they did good, went to church, talked about God—but they had never experienced the kind of deep transformation Jesus actually came to bring. They embraced a faith that neither saved nor sanctified.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing in Nazi Germany, called this “cheap grace”—grace without discipleship, forgiveness without repentance, communion without confession. In contrast, Bonhoeffer wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

That’s exactly what Jesus is getting at in Luke 14. He uses strong, even shocking language to get our attention:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26–27)

Of course, Jesus isn’t speaking literally here. He’s using a teaching method known as rabbinic hyperbole—exaggerated language meant to emphasize the seriousness of the message. And what’s the message? If you want to follow Jesus, he must come first. Above your family. Above your money. Above your own preferences. Because if God isn’t first, then something else is—and that’s what Scripture calls idolatry.

Jesus goes on to tell a short parable about a man who starts building a tower without first checking if he has what it takes to finish. The unfinished structure becomes a monument to poor planning and lost potential—like the real-life example of McCaig’s Folly in Oban, Scotland, a colosseum-style monument that was never completed.

The point is simple and sobering: Don’t do this with your soul. Don’t rush into discipleship without counting the cost.

We see this kind of impulsiveness all the time. People rush into marriage without preparing for the work it takes to sustain it—and when it falls apart, the pain is real. I know that pain personally. I’ve been divorced. And I know it’s not just the couple that suffers—it’s the kids, the extended family, and the community around them.

We do the same thing with career moves, relocations, business ventures—jumping in without a plan, only to regret it later when the cost hits and the passion fades.

Jesus is saying: Don’t do that with your soul. Discipleship isn’t something you drift into. It’s not about good intentions or occasional church attendance. It’s about a lifelong, all-in commitment to a way of life where Jesus—not our politics, not our preferences, not our ego—calls the shots.

And here’s the beautiful paradox: Jesus isn’t trying to take your life away. He’s trying to give it back to you. What he wants isn’t just your money, your volunteer hours, or your votes. He wants your heart. He wants all of you—just as he gives all of himself to you.

Deep down, we all long for that kind of love, don’t we? A love that sees us, knows us, and stays. That’s the kind of love we hope to find in marriage, friendship, family. And that longing isn’t something to suppress—it’s something God placed within us to awaken His love in us. The love that never lets go.

So let me ask: Have you truly counted the cost of following Jesus? Are you ready to go all in—not in a moment of emotional hype, but in a way that sustains you for the long road of faith?

Because going all in isn’t about adding religious burdens to your already full schedule. It’s an invitation to something better: a deeper, truer, more transformative relationship with the God who made you and loves you.

That kind of relationship takes time. It takes effort. But like any relationship worth having, the reward is far greater than the cost. You’ll find healing for your deepest wounds. Joy that circumstances can’t steal. Purpose that anchors you through every season. And a love that actually changes you.

If something inside you is stirring as you read this, don’t ignore it. Start small. Take the next right step. Maybe it’s carving out a few quiet minutes each morning for Scripture and prayer. Maybe it’s joining a small group or reconnecting with someone who encourages your faith. Maybe it’s simply saying, “God, I want more of you.”

Whatever it is, do it with joy—not guilt, not pressure, but because God’s grace is calling you into something fuller than what you’re experiencing now.

This isn’t about drudgery. It’s about becoming the kind of person whose life is shaped by love. The kind of person whose faith actually looks like Jesus.

So as you reflect on what it means to take your faith seriously, consider these questions:

  • Where might you be holding back from fully committing to God?
  • What would it look like to put God first in every area of your life?
  • What’s one small step you can take today to go deeper in your walk with Christ?

The journey of faith isn’t always easy—but it is always worth it. And if you’re willing to say yes—yes to deeper trust, yes to real commitment, yes to joyful obedience—then I believe you’ll begin to experience the kind of life that Jesus promises: full, free, and overflowing with grace.