Embracing Slow Sanctification

Imagine crossing the finish line of what you thought was a race, only to discover the path was meant to be taken as a sightseeing tour. You’ve got a stitch in your side and shortness of breath when you realize that no one is handing out medals for speed. 

You have no context for this. All your life, you’ve believed that awards and grades and promotions go to those who do the most, the fastest. Not so in this “race.” The brightest ribbons are reserved for those who take their time and move through the course with methodical precision. The point of the race—you realize too late—has never been the finish line. It’s the stops mapped out for you along the way. 

In these middle years of life, after walking with Jesus for decades, not days, this is how I’m learning to see the sanctification process. It’s slow by design. The finish line isn’t a moment of arrival but a spiraling closer and closer toward the heart of Jesus. 

Perhaps that sounds a little . . . woo-woo. I get it. I like linear thinking and clear, measurable success as much as the next girl. But the Bible doesn’t describe sanctification as a horizontal process, and I know far too many women who are bone-tired from trying to shove the square peg of their understanding of the Christian life into the round hole of God’s ways. 

What Good Is Slow Growth?

Where, exactly, did we get the idea that God wants us to grow as quickly as possible?

Not from nature, where slow growth is the norm and fruit can never be rushed. Most seeds take a minimum of ten days to sprout the thinnest, hairlike roots. Weeks more for leaves. Months for fruit. Then more waiting for that fruit to ripen. 

Why did the Lord engineer biological growth this way? He didn’t have to. His plan could have been to plant, sprout, and harvest in a twenty-four-hour cycle. Since He didn’t—and His ways are always good (Psalm 119:68)—we are wise to ask: How can we see the goodness of God in slow growth?

We see the same pattern in cognitive development. Sure, you can show your baby flash cards while they sit in their high chair. They might even show some signs of comprehension. But experienced educators know what many first-time parents do not: you can’t rush learning. In fact, researchers suggest that pushing academics too early typically backfires. A preschooler’s brain simply wasn’t made for trigonometric calculations. 

If God made buds and brains to grow slowly, again I pose the question: Where did we get the idea that God wants us to grow as quickly as possible? And beneath that: If He designed biological and developmental growth to be slow processes, why shouldn’t we embrace spiritual growth following the same pattern?

Degree by Degree

I imagine the apostle Paul would have signed up for an accelerated course in sanctification had it been available. He longed to be like Christ with every fiber of his redeemed self. He also wrote the words that have most shaped my understanding of sanctification as a process rather than a destination. 

First Thessalonians is a treatise on the return of Christ—about living with the expectation that at any moment the trumpet could sound and we could find ourselves face-to-face with our Savior. That kind of anticipation makes you want to speed up your growth! But tucked into this epistle is a subtly stunning description of sanctification:

Additionally then, brothers and sisters, we ask and encourage you in the Lord Jesus, that as you have received instruction from us on how you should live and please God—as you are doing—do this even more. For you know what commands we gave you through the Lord Jesus.

For this is God’s will, your sanctification. (1 Thessalonians 4:1–3, emphasis added)

Biblical sanctification is this: take what you know from the Word and do that more and more—until Christ comes. 

That can’t be right . . . right?Aren’t we supposed to read all the books, complete all the Bible studies, pray all the prayers, and serve in every way possible until our effort becomes Miracle-Grow and we become the spiritual giants we long to be? 

I’ve never—ever—seen it work that way. Have you?

In another letter, Paul describes sanctification like this:

We all, with unveiled faces, are looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:18)

We learn two important realities from this verse:

1. It is the Lord who sanctifies us. 
2. He does it one degree at a time. 

Sure, you can crank down the thermostat on the wall by twenty degrees on a hot day and hope the temperature drops instantly. More likely, the system will freeze, and your living room will grow warmer instead of cooler. Sanctification, it seems, works similarly. Try to rush it, and you will become frustrated—or worse, self-righteous, boasting in all you are doing to become more like Christ. Ick! 

Surviving the Self-Quake

I’ll never claim to understand all the “whys” of God, but I think I’m beginning to have a sense of why sanctification must be slow. 

Like many in my generation, my understanding of the Christian life has been shaped in part by Pastor Tim Keller. He often said that if we saw the full extent of our sinfulness, we couldn’t bear it. Yet sometimes we’re given glimpses: we see pride in our hearts instead of Christlike humility, we see our selfishness instead of others-first-ness, we see our backs arch and fists clench toward God’s authority in our lives instead of surrender. We struggle again with a pattern of sin we long to be free of. And our hearts cry, “How long, O, Lord! How long until I’m transformed into the image of your Son?”

Keller calls this a self-quake. Like physical earthquakes, these moments shake us—and often become catalysts for growth. But in His mercy, the Lord usually shapes us through a series of magnitude one and two quakes or smaller tremors, rather than a single magnitude ten. A ten would crush us under the weight of despair. So instead, our Savior sanctifies us “from one degree of glory to another.”

Perhaps deep down you think, I should be further along by now. But if the Lord is content to sanctify you slowly, perhaps you can stop approaching your walk with Him like cramming for a final exam. 

There’s application for our relationships too. Maybe part of you thinks they should be further along by now—your husband, your children, your neighbor, or your friend. You may assume that if they just tried harder, they could become all God intends them to be. But they’re being sanctified slowly too. It may be that God, in His kindness, is protecting them from a self-quake that would overwhelm rather than transform.

Remember Pauls’ words from 2 Corinthians 3? All of us who are in Christ are being transformed from one degree of glory to another. Expecting (or demanding) more than that is the spiritual equivalent of trying to get a two-year old to memorize Latin. 

Sure, there is work to be done—in you, through you, and in those around you. But what might it look like to let God set the pace?

If you are in Christ, there is growth. That’s how His kingdom works. In some areas, that growth may look like the thinnest root for now. So be it. Sanctification is not a race. It’s a lifelong path of becoming more like Jesus by knowing Him more.

I hope you find in that definition the freedom you need to slow down—and enjoy the view. 

I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. —Paul in 1 Corinthians 3:6