Christlikeness: A few days ago, I heard a sermon that centered almost entirely upon the believer’s need to become like Christ. The speaker described Christlikeness as the best thing in the world and encouraged the whole church to make it their great desire and prayer. At first, the thought seemed difficult to question. Scripture does speak of walking as Christ walked, having the mind of Christ, and being conformed to the image of God’s Son. I John 2:6. Yet I found myself wondering whether the language had begun to move beyond Scripture. Christ is far more than the perfect pattern placed before mankind. He stands alone as the one Mediator, the Head of the body, the source of all spiritual life, and the entire righteousness of His people. I Corinthians 1:30.
The language stayed with me, so I began looking for other discussions of the subject. Since I had not heard the expression in many years, I wondered whether anyone else had stopped to question it. Most of what I found, however, simply praised the idea without much qualification. After running out of useful resources, I returned to SermonAudio and came across another message that quoted C. S. Lewis: “Every Christian is to become a little Christ.”
The speaker then carried the thought further by quoting another passage from Lewis: “The Church exists for nothing else but to draw men into Christ, to make them little Christs.” He added that if the church is not doing this, then “all the cathedrals, clergy, missions, sermons, even the Bible itself, are simply a waste of time.” That is an extraordinary claim. Can the value of Scripture really be made to depend upon whether it succeeds in producing what Lewis calls “little Christs”?
Whatever he meant to emphasize, Scripture cannot be reduced to an instrument whose value is measured by the visible results it appears to produce. What commonly passes for Christianity may indeed consist largely of institutions, arguments, and outward profession, but the life of Christ’s people cannot be reduced to any of those things. Even so, the expression “little Christs” still seems to place the emphasis in the wrong direction. Christianity does not exist to multiply Christs. It exists to proclaim the one Christ. I Corinthians 8:6.
There is a true and precious sense in which believers are conformed to the image of Christ. We are taught to walk in love, humble ourselves, forgive, suffer patiently, and seek the good of others. Ephesians 5:2. But none of this makes us smaller versions of Christ. He is not the full-sized example of what we are all gradually becoming. Think about it for a moment: are we really comfortable speaking as though the difference between Christ and His people were merely a difference of degree? He is the only Savior, the one Mediator, the Head of the body, and the source of all its life. We may reflect something of His character, but we never approach His place, share His glory, or become what He alone is.
Christ has already been made far too small in much of modern Christianity. He is spoken of as an example, a teacher, a model of compassion, or the highest expression of what humanity can become. The language of “little Christs” only carries that reduction one step further, as though Christ were simply the perfect version of us and we were all smaller versions of Him. Christ is not merely the pattern placed before us. He is the righteousness we do not possess, the life we cannot produce, and the Savior we can never replace.
I cannot hear this language without thinking of Thomas à Kempis’s The Imitation of Christ. I once owned the book and tried to follow its path, only to discover that it offered no real resting place. What I called imitation was really little more than shaping my outward life around a standard I believed I could attain, while inwardly I remained painfully aware of everything that had not changed. Imitation kept turning my attention toward what I was becoming, while the gospel directed me to the righteousness and life already found in Christ. That is the difference we cannot afford to lose. The world does not need to see a more polished imitation of Christ in us. It needs to hear of the one Christ in whom all righteousness, life, and salvation are found.
The sermon also placed being “biblical” and being “Christlike” in opposition to one another, as though devotion to Scripture were somehow a lower form of Christianity. But how could we possibly know what it means to be like Christ apart from the Scriptures? Once Christlikeness is separated from what is written, it quickly becomes whatever qualities the speaker happens to admire. Christ is reduced to kindness, humility, civility, and a willingness to avoid difficult disagreements. Those qualities may sound attractive, but they amount to a carefully selected portrait rather than the Christ Scripture actually reveals. He was compassionate and merciful, but He also exposed hypocrisy, rebuked error, spoke plainly of judgment, and declared that no man comes to the Father but by Him. Being biblical and being Christlike are not competing postures. The only Christ we know is the Christ revealed in the Word of God. Scripture was never given as part of a program of human improvement, but to direct us away from ourselves to Christ, whose glory and sufficiency no amount of visible transformation in us could ever increase.
There is also something deeply misleading about the idea that the world should look at us and see “little Christs.” If people are directed to us as visible versions of Christ, they will inevitably see something broken, inconsistent, and deeply incomplete. II Corinthians 4:7. That is not because grace has accomplished nothing in the believer, but because no work of grace ever erases the distinction between Christ and those He saves.
This is also the problem with describing Christlikeness as the whole purpose of becoming a Christian. It shifts the emphasis almost without our noticing it. We stop looking chiefly at what Christ has finished and begin looking at what Christianity seems to be producing in us. Christ becomes primarily our pattern rather than our Savior, and our attention slowly moves from His perfection to the degree of resemblance we think we can discover in ourselves. What began as a desire to honor Christ can end by turning our eyes back upon ourselves.
Properly understood, Christlikeness does not make the believer more impressed with himself. It makes him more conscious of Christ’s perfection and more aware of his own dependence. The nearer we draw to the light, the less reason we have to speak as though we were becoming miniature versions of the One who saves us. Every true fruit of grace should leave Christ more necessary, more glorious, and more preeminent, because grace was never given to make us impressive, but to make Christ indispensable.
There is no need to deny the beauty of being conformed to Christ. Scripture gives us every reason to desire humility, love, patience, mercy, and obedience. But none of those things make us “little Christs.” The more clearly we see who He is, the less interested we should be in finding smaller versions of Him in ourselves. MPJ