WE TRADED COVENANT FOR COMFORT

There was a time when faith meant something solid.

Weighty. Demanding.

Today, much of what passes for Christianity feels thin—pleasant, affirming, endlessly customizable. We talk a lot about grace, belonging, and personal relationship. Far less about obedience, loyalty, or cost.

That shift didn’t happen overnight. And it didn’t happen because people stopped believing in Jesus.

It happened because we slowly replaced covenant with comfort.

COVENANT WAS NEVER SAFE

In Scripture, covenant is not a sentiment. It is a binding relationship that reshapes identity, allegiance, and direction. When God makes covenant, He claims a people—not just their belief, but their lives.

Covenant always comes with terms:

• I will be your God.

• You will be my people.

• Walk in my ways.

That framework is demanding by design. It doesn’t ask how we feel about God; it asks who we will obey.

And that’s where modern faith begins to flinch.

HOW COMFORT TOOK THE DRIVER’S SEAT

Somewhere along the way, faith was reframed as primarily therapeutic. God became the one who supports our dreams, heals our wounds, and reassures us of our worth. None of those things are untrue—but they are incomplete.

When comfort becomes the goal, obedience becomes optional.

When affirmation becomes central, repentance feels harsh.

When faith exists to support my life, covenant loyalty feels intrusive.

So we soften the edges. We quote the promises and ignore the commands. We talk about relationship while quietly resisting authority.

The result isn’t heresy. It’s something more subtle—and more dangerous.

It’s a faith that believes without bending.

JESUS DIDN’T OFFER A SOFTER ROAD

Jesus never hid the cost of following Him.

“Take up your cross.”

“Leave everything.”

“Count the cost.”

These weren’t metaphors meant to inspire reflection. They were warnings meant to provoke decision. Discipleship was never presented as safe, convenient, or easily integrated into an already full life.

Yet today, we often act surprised when faith disrupts us—when obedience costs relationships, reputation, or comfort. We assume something has gone wrong.

Biblically speaking, that’s often when something has gone right.

WHAT WE LOST WHEN WE LOST COVENANT

When covenant fades, faith becomes abstract.

When obedience weakens, belief becomes theoretical.

When cost disappears, formation stalls.

We don’t need louder worship or better branding. We need a return to the uncomfortable truth that following God reshapes everything—how we live, what we love, and where our loyalty lies.

Comfort was never the promise.

Faithfulness was.

A QUESTION WORTH SITTING WITH

What if the restlessness many believers feel isn’t doubt or burnout—but hunger?

What if the discomfort we’ve learned to avoid is actually the place where covenant does its deepest work?

That question is worth more than a quick answer.

And it’s only the beginning.