Or are you a follower of Christ?
This is a question we’ve all heard or answered for ourselves…
At some point in the distant past, somewhere along the way, “ask Jesus into your heart” became the Christian buzz phrase. It’s short. It’s simple. It fits neatly into a tweet, but the gospel was never set out to be compressed into a catchphrase.
If you’re reading this on your phone, or scrolling while your coffee cools, stop for a second. Pull up 2 Corinthians 3:18. Let that verse sink in. Paul says we’re being transformed into Christ’s image — not instantly, not by accident, but from one degree of glory to another. Almost incrementally, one prayer at a time, one sermon at a time, one DBS group gathered around a log burner at a time… And how? By beholding Him. Not by scripting a perfect prayer or by closing your eyes, squinting and trying to feel something, but by looking at Him — with unveiled face — and letting the Spirit do what only the Spirit can do. Your part? Not by inviting Him “in” — that would make you the initiator — but by following Him, responding to His outstretched grace.
You know the story well enough: when Peter stood in front of the crowd at Pentecost, fresh with the fire of the Spirit and the weight of the resurrection still hanging in the air, he didn’t say, “Invite Jesus in.” He said, “Repent. Be baptised. Every one of you.” That’s not a polite invitation. That’s a call to lay down your life.
Jesus never said, “Add me to your Sunday routine.” He said, “Follow me.” And when He said that, people dropped everything. Boats. Nets. Careers. Reputations. Their whole way of being. They weren’t signing up for inspiration — they were surrendering to a revolution. Being a witness carried its own implication, especially as the Greek word for witness is where we derive the word martyr. Follow. Follow. Follow…
For us, we like to mark the moment. We like certainty. In the past I have invited, both in person and from the pulpit, people to ask Jesus into their heart. It’s an understandable sort of convenience. We want to point to a line in the sand, an Instagram story, a timestamp that says: “This was it — the turning point.” But God doesn’t work like that. He’s not an algorithm waiting for your response. He’s the God who forms hearts in secret and stirs faith before a word is spoken.
The real danger or challenge isn’t the phrase itself. It’s what we lose when we make salvation a personal moment rather than a divine miracle. We risk turning gospel into gesture or a binary option. We trade ‘follow me’ for ‘feel something’, and call it faith.
Salvation isn’t a mood. It’s not about how moved you feel during a Worship song or how many goose-bumps you got during the sermon. It’s about Jesus. Crucified. Risen. Reigning. It’s about a cross that did what no heart-invitation ever could — it cancelled sin. Forever. Thud! Done! Justification — redemption…
Here’s the thing; you didn’t initiate this. The Spirit did. He’s not some background feature in the gospel story — He’s the one who started the whole thing in you. You think you just wandered into church one day, clicked a YouTube sermon by accident, or scrolled past ‘that’ verse in Romans? No. That was Him. Providence and Sovereignty come naturally to God!
He chooses, convicts, reveals and breathes life into dead bones. Before you even knew what to pray, the Spirit was already moving. That whisper that told you “there’s more” — that was Him. The tear you couldn’t explain? Also Him.
Faith doesn’t start with you. It starts with grace. And justification — being declared right with God — doesn’t wait until you’ve got the language perfect. It doesn’t demand a perfectly phrased prayer. It responds to the heart that says, “Jesus, I trust you. I need you. I’m done doing this on my own.” And that moment? That turning? That’s where it begins, initiated by the Holy Spirit as He drew you to Him.
Don’t mistake beginning (starting to believe, follow and obey) for finishing. Jesus didn’t call us to raise our hand once while all eyes were closed, secretly coming to Jesus! He called us to die daily. To walk. To stumble. To grow. From one degree of glory to the next. Discovering daily grace upon grace.
This isn’t about converting people, this is about making disciples. Followers. People who wake up each day and choose to trust Jesus more than they did yesterday. It’s not clean. It’s not always clear. But it’s real.
And it’s not something you do alone. Faith is personal, yes — but it’s never private. The early church didn’t follow Jesus in isolation. They broke bread — together. Prayed — together. Got baptised. Sat under teaching. Not one of them tried to follow Jesus with just an Andrew Wilson podcast and a coffee.
So perhaps, and old habits die hard, let’s stop asking people to invite Jesus into their hearts like He’s a guest hoping for a spare room. He’s not looking to fit into your schedule. He’s tearing down the house and building something entirely new. Our part is to gather with everyone else on the narrow path, and step by step begin to follow.
If you’re wondering whether you’ve crossed the line with Jesus, here’s the better question: Are you following Him now? Not did you feel something once, or can you remember the date — but is your life, your heart, your direction leaning into Jesus? Is your heart strangely warmed, especially at the mention of His name?
If so, the Spirit’s at work. You don’t need a certificate to prove it. Just keep walking. Keep trusting. Keep turning toward the One who already finished what you never could.
What about justification? Well, it’s not a feeling or a flash of light. It’s the divine verdict over every sinner who leans their whole weight on Christ. And that moment — whenever faith truly ignites — is not just a new beginning. It’s a resurrection.
So open the Book. Look again at the cross. Then read that verse: “Beholding the glory of the Lord, we are being transformed… from one degree of glory to another.” (2 Corinthians 3:18, ESV)
That’s not a quick fix. That’s the long, slow miracle of the Spirit. That’s salvation.
And that’s the gospel — so treasure, cherish and be totally overwhelmed by the One you are following, the true Hero of Heaven; the victorious Redeemer who conquered sin, death, and the grave.