It’s a natural instinct to protect what we love. In matters of faith, that impulse can manifest as fierce loyalty to our denominational statements, liturgical traditions or our carefully defined “orthodoxy”.
We construct theological fortresses, convinced that by defending them, we’re somehow safeguarding God Himself. But here’s the truth: God doesn’t need our protection.
More often than not, the urge to defend our religious boundaries has less to do with God’s needs and far more to do with our own. We hold tightly to what feels safe, resisting the discomfort of change and the vulnerability of growth.
Our creeds and customs become comfort blankets, shielding us from uncertainty.
But faith was never meant to be a fortress. God calls us beyond our boundaries—not to defend our familiar walls, but to step into transformation.
When we fight to preserve our particular doctrines or traditions, it’s worth asking: who or what, are we really protecting? Is it God—or is it our own sense of security and control?
God is never threatened—even in the slightest—by our questions, our doubts or our disagreements. His love and truth are vast enough to embrace our uncertainties and His presence remains unwavering no matter how much we wrestle or wonder.
God’s greatness is not diminished by our struggles; instead, He invites us to bring our honest hearts to Him, trusting that faith can flourish even in the midst of mystery.
The divine reality is bigger than our categories and more gracious than our anxieties. In fact, clinging too tightly to our own expressions of faith can shrink our spiritual imagination. It can close us off from the ways God might be speaking and moving outside our familiar frameworks.
When we make the preservation of tradition our highest priority, we risk missing out on the living, dynamic work of Spirit—who often calls us into discomfort, challenge and newness.
True spiritual growth begins when we loosen our grip on certainty and let God exceed our imagination—always bigger than our box.
It happens when:
- We’re willing to let go of the need to always be right.
- We’re open to being challenged, even unsettled, by new perspectives.
- We trust that God is bigger than our categories and boundaries.
This isn’t to say that doctrine and practice don’t matter, they shape our lives and communities. But they should be held with humility and openness, not fear and defensiveness. Our task is not to defend God, but to respond to God’s ongoing invitation—to change, to grow, to love more deeply.
Faith grows at the edge of comfort. When we entrust ourselves—and even our cherished traditions—to God’s care, we discover that the foundation of our faith is not our own defenses, but God’s boundless, sustaining and scandalous love.
So let’s lay down the urge to protect God. Let’s dare to let our faith be porous, open and alive—trusting that God can handle our questions and our messiness. After all, the God who holds the universe surely doesn’t need us to build walls around Him.
Blessings,
Wag
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