The Narrow Way

The Narrow Way: Choosing Formation Over Performance

This week, as we gathered for worship, many of us carried a heaviness with us. The fires across our region are not right in our backyard, but they feel close enough. We know people, churches, families, and communities who are being impacted. Some are evacuating. Some are trying to protect homes and property. Some are grieving what has already been lost.

In moments like these, we are reminded of our need for a prayer-first posture. Not because prayer is “all we can do” in a dismissive sense, but because prayer is the first and most faithful place to begin. We bring what we cannot control to the God who sees, knows, and holds all things. We ask for protection, strength, comfort, courage, and for the church to be the hands and feet of Jesus in real and practical ways.

And then, with that heaviness still present, we turned again to the words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.

We are nearing the end of this long journey through Matthew 5–7. Since Easter, we have been sitting with Jesus on the mountainside, listening as He describes a life that is far deeper than religious behavior. He has spoken to us about anger, lust, integrity, forgiveness, loving enemies, prayer, fasting, worry, judgment, and how we treat others. Over and over again, Jesus has pushed beneath the surface.

He has not been interested merely in what we look like on the outside.

He is forming something deeper.

And as His sermon begins to come to a close, Jesus asks a question that we cannot avoid:

What are you going to do with this?

Not, “Did you understand it?”
Not, “Can you explain it?”
Not, “Did you attend church while it was preached?”

But: Will you allow this to change you?

The Narrow Gate
Jesus says:

“You can enter God’s kingdom only through the narrow gate. The highway to hell is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way. But the gateway to life is very narrow, and the road is difficult, and only a few ever find it.”
— Matthew 7:13–14

When we hear “narrow gate,” many of us imagine something restrictive, as though God is trying to make entry difficult. But Jesus is not describing a God who is reluctant to receive us. He is describing a way of life that most people simply do not choose.

The wide road is easy because it does not require much honesty. It does not require surrender. It does not require us to let God beneath the surface.

The wide road allows us to manage our image, protect ourselves, keep control, say the right things, and keep our faith at a safe distance.

But the narrow road goes deep.

It is the road of dependence.
The road of honesty.
The road of surrender.
The road of being formed by Jesus rather than merely appearing religious.

And the narrow road is narrow not only because it is deep, but because it is specific. It is not a philosophy, a self-help plan, or one spiritual option among many.

The narrow way is Jesus Himself.

He is the gate.
He is the way.
He is the truth.
He is the life.

No one else can do in us what needs to be done. No amount of moral effort can transform the human heart. No amount of religious activity can reconcile us to God. Only Jesus can.

Fruit Tells the Truth
Jesus then gives a warning:

“Beware of false prophets who come disguised as harmless sheep but are really vicious wolves. You can identify them by their fruit, that is, by the way they act.”
— Matthew 7:15–16

This is a call to discernment. We should be careful about who we listen to, who we follow, and who we allow to shape our understanding of God. Not everything that sounds spiritual is rooted in Jesus. Not everyone who uses the right words is bearing good fruit.

But this warning is also deeply personal.

It is easy to hear “you will know them by their fruit” and immediately begin inspecting someone else’s life. But before we pick up a clipboard and start grading others, we need to ask what fruit is growing in us.

After months in the Sermon on the Mount, the question is not simply, “Do I agree with Jesus?”

The question is:

Is the life of Jesus actually being formed in me?

Am I more patient than I was before?
Am I more honest?
Am I more merciful?
Am I more dependent on God?
Am I quicker to forgive?
Am I slower to judge?
Am I becoming a person of peace?

Another way to ask it is this:

What do I leave behind when I leave?

When people interact with me, are they encouraged or drained?
Built up or torn down?
Drawn closer to Jesus or left more confused?
Does my presence bring peace or tension?
Grace or pressure?
Love or criticism?

That is fruit.

Not what we claim to believe.
Not what we post.
Not how spiritual we sound.

Fruit is what grows from the life that is actually rooted in us.

And the good news is that Jesus does not demand perfect fruit immediately. Fruit takes time. A tree bears fruit as it remains rooted and nourished. In the same way, our calling is not to manufacture fruit by our own strength.

Our calling is to remain in Jesus.

As Jesus says in John 15:

“Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine.”
— John 15:4

The fruit comes from remaining.

Activity Is Not the Same as Relationship
Then Jesus says some of the most unsettling words in Scripture:

“Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter.”
— Matthew 7:21

He goes on to describe people who prophesied, cast out demons, and performed miracles in His name. These were not inactive people. They were busy. They were involved. They had impressive spiritual resumes.

And yet Jesus says:

“I never knew you.”

Those words should stop us.

Because the danger Jesus describes is not simply people who walk away from God. It is people who are close to the things of God but somehow miss God Himself.

It is possible to be around church, around worship, around ministry, around Christian language, and still avoid true surrender to Jesus.

It is possible to do things for God while refusing to be with God.

That is a sobering thought.

Because busyness can become a shield. Ministry can become a hiding place. Religious activity can allow us to avoid the vulnerability of actually being known by Jesus.

But Jesus does not call us into the light to shame us.

He calls us into the light to heal us.

To be known by Jesus is not to be exposed and rejected. It is to be fully seen and fully loved. It is to stop performing and finally surrender.

The Question Before Us
At the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus blesses the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. He begins with dependence.

And here, near the end, He brings us back to dependence again.

The whole sermon is an invitation to stop performing and start being formed.

So the question remains:

Am I remaining in Jesus, or am I just busy for Him?
Am I being formed, or am I performing?
Am I surrendering, or am I simply showing up?

These are not questions meant to condemn us. They are invitations. Jesus is inviting us onto the narrow road — the road that leads to life.

And that road is not walked by our strength, our effort, or our ability to impress God.

It is walked by grace.

It is walked with open hands.

It is walked one surrendered step at a time.

So may we be a people who remain in Jesus.
May we be a people who bear good fruit.
May we be a people who are known by Him.
And may we walk the narrow way — not as performers, but as disciples being formed by the One who loves us completely.