Genuine Service: A Response to July 15th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Spiritual Honor”, promises that believers can develop an “overwhelming sense of indebtedness to Jesus Christ” that creates spiritual obligation to evangelize everyone, claiming that recognizing you were “bought at a price” creates spiritual honor compelling believers to become “broken bread and poured-out wine” for Christ.

Here’s what spiritual obligation to evangelize everyone actually delivered:


“You owe Jesus everything,” the evangelism leader declared emphatically. “Every bit of your life’s value comes from his redemption. The spiritual honor of your life is to pay this debt by preaching to everyone—wise and foolish, believer and unbeliever. You must become broken bread and poured-out wine for him.”

Michael embraced this framework of spiritual indebtedness completely. He felt overwhelming obligation to evangelize everyone he encountered—coworkers, neighbors, family members, even strangers in coffee shops. His sense of being “bought at a price” drove him to see every conversation as opportunity to manifest Christ’s redemption in others’ lives.

For months, Michael spent himself in constant evangelistic activity. He joined every outreach program, participated in street evangelism, pressured friends and family to accept Jesus. His spiritual honor demanded that he become an “absolute slave” to this gospel obligation, regardless of how others responded.

But the promised spiritual fulfillment was a relationship-destroying disaster.

Michael’s relationships deteriorated as people began avoiding his constant evangelistic pressure. His family members stopped inviting him to gatherings because every interaction became gospel presentation. His coworkers complained to HR about his inappropriate workplace proselytizing. The spiritual debt he was trying to pay was destroying his ability to actually love people.

Meanwhile, Michael’s friend Carlos approached helping others with zero motivation from spiritual indebtedness. As a social worker, Carlos didn’t feel gospel obligation requiring evangelistic payback but simply wanted to address practical needs in his community. He volunteered with homeless services, tutored struggling students, advocated for immigrant families.

Carlos’s service wasn’t driven by obligation to spiritual creditor but by genuine compassion and professional calling. He didn’t see people as evangelistic targets but as human beings deserving dignity and practical support. His help came without strings attached or hidden evangelistic agendas.

When Michael’s evangelistic zeal finally destroyed his relationship with his teenage son—who refused to speak to him after months of relentless gospel pressure—he realized his spiritual obligation had damaged rather than demonstrated Christ’s love.

Where was the spiritual honor that was supposed to come from paying his debt to Jesus? Where was the freedom that came from being an absolute slave to evangelistic obligation?

Michael’s breakthrough came when he stopped trying to pay spiritual debt through evangelism and started simply caring for people without evangelistic expectations. The meaningful service that actually helped others came through listening to their real needs rather than imposing his spiritual agenda.

The silence where spiritual fulfillment was supposed to emerge from evangelistic obligation revealed the truth: there was no debt to Jesus requiring payment through constant preaching. Only human relationships that deserved respect and genuine care without religious manipulation.


Reflection Question: When has serving others without evangelistic expectations been more effective than feeling obligated to share your faith with everyone?


This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.

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Author: Richard L. Fricks

Writer. Observer. Builder. I write from a life shaped by attention, simplicity, and living without a script—through reflective essays, long-form inquiry, and fiction rooted in ordinary lives. I live in rural Alabama, where writing, walking, and building small, intentional spaces are part of the same practice.

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