Did you know the only way to grow muscle is by progressive overload? When you add more weight to your usual workout routine, it introduces mechanical and metabolic stress that disturbs muscle homeostasis. Your body interprets this disturbance as a signal that its current muscle size/strength is insufficient, and it adapts by making the muscle larger and stronger.
Just like muscles, faith only grows with resistance training. If the load never increases in our life, faith will not grow—only when the pressure mounts does our spirit learn that it must attain a new level of trust and dependence on the Lord. When the resistance is turned up, the old level of faith no longer cuts it. The uncomfortable feeling of being pressed on all sides is the stimulus that triggers the growth response. We seldom rise to new levels until the hour requires it of us. And just like muscle memory makes it easier to lift a heavy load next time you encounter it, a faith that has been tested is better prepared to carry the burden of similar trials ahead. Have you ever noticed that people who have overcome great adversity tend to have the strongest faith? That is not an accident.
Progressive overload can be discouraging for goal-oriented people because when you increase the weight you have to lower your reps until your body can handle the new load. Yet what feels like a setback is actually growth. Many Christians lose heart in the trial because it feels like their faith is coming undone and they cannot handle the new load life has placed upon them. But that pressure is growth in disguise.
James seems to have understood this principle when he writes: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (Jas 1:4–6). These sentiments are echoed in Paul’s writing as well: “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom 5:3–5).
I have noticed many parents never want their kids to experience hardship. This is problematic because hardship is the tension that triggers the growth of our “faith muscles.” The unpleasant truth is that suffering and hardship are critical to the discipleship process. Part of the problem in the church is that we send students out into a world where they need to “bench” far more weight than we have prepared them for—then they are ultimately crushed by the pressure and deconstruct their faith. Youth who have never had their faith tested are weak. The popular adage rings true: “A faith that hasn’t been tested can’t be trusted.”
We need to train students (and all believers) to have a faith that can sustain the resistance they will experience when they are released into the world. We need to expose them to faulty worldviews, help them think biblically and logically about the world, and yes, even let them be in situations where they might fail and experience difficulty. They have a safety net in their younger years that will not always be there (assuming parents take their discipleship responsibilities seriously, which I realize is a big assumption).
Sometimes I am asked why I never attended a biblically faithful, orthodox institution where correct doctrine is taught. Honestly, that’s a fair question. My youth ministry experience was so phenomenal that I knew I could handle hostile environments and that these opportunities would grow my faith through resistance training. My teachers showed me both how to study Scripture and have a vibrant relationship with Christ, and because of their investment, I was ready to be tested at the next level. The secular indoctrination of the University of Virginia’s religious studies program was met with the apologetics I had rigorously studied in high school. My faith and resolve were tested and strengthened in those years. Passing that test allowed me to move on and confront the theological progressivism of Princeton Seminary. Later, I moved on to the humanistic and pluralistic context of the University of Chicago and the intense philological environment of Johns Hopkins. At every stage, I refused to surrender what Archibald Alexander called “the lively and deep impression of divine truth” (Alexander was afraid Charles Hodge would surrender orthodoxy after he sent him to Germany to study under critical German professors). All this was possible only because people intervened and trained me theologically early in life. We must teach our students to lift heavy weights if they are going to make it in this world.
We must not be afraid to train students up in the Scriptures because as the German poet writes: 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘩𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘩𝘵 𝘫𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘒𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧—“the truth of the ancient Scriptures withstands every battle.”
Amen.
