Some time ago, a student asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks:
How do we know if we are striving because we are envious of what others have, or because we genuinely want to improve ourselves?
It was a piercing question—because on the surface, striving can look the same in both cases. But the difference lies in what fuels it.
The Test of Motivation
Two people can work equally hard, but their inner motivations may differ entirely.
- Inward-looking striving says: I want recognition. I want to prove myself.
- Outward-looking striving says: I want to steward my gifts for the good of others.
For me, this tension comes alive in teaching. I spend hours thinking through the flow of slides, anticipating student questions, ensuring clarity. And I admit—I love reading the feedback: “Best tutor in five years,” or “Finally I understand how to read an X-ray.”
Encouragement fuels me. But if my joy rises and falls purely on feedback, then I know part of my striving is tied to the desire for affirmation.
Beyond Humanism
Here’s the problem: even non-Christians can say, “I work hard so others may benefit.” That’s good, but it is not uniquely Christian. Humanism values service too.
So the question becomes: What makes our striving distinctly Christian?
The gospel reframes striving by giving us a deeper anchor. I don’t just want students to learn well—I want my teaching to be a credible platform that points to God’s goodness. Ultimately, I long for opportunities to speak about Christ, who has saved me.
The Gospel Litmus Test
So here’s the litmus test I shared with my students:
Would I still strive if no one noticed, if no one praised me, even if it cost me professionally—so long as Christ is honored?
- If I strive for affirmation, disappointment will crush me.
- If I strive for Christ’s glory, affirmation is sweet but not essential.
That’s the difference between envy-driven striving and gospel-driven striving.
How should the Christian think about this?
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Pushing the Question Further
If we stopped here, the reflection might sound complete: simply check your motives, look outward, and aim for the benefit of others. But that test is not uniquely Christian. A secular humanist could agree wholeheartedly.
The gospel presses us further. It insists that striving is not just about helping others or doing good—it is about glorifying God. And glorifying God means not only stewarding our gifts well but also pointing others to Him as the source of all good.
My Own Struggle
I confess that my motivations are not always pure. If they were, I would never feel disappointed when the feedback is lukewarm, or when no one notices the effort poured into teaching.
That disappointment is a reminder: part of me still longs for the praise of man. And that exposes envy-driven striving. But by God’s grace, the gospel gives me a higher aim: to see Christ exalted through my labor, regardless of how I am perceived.
The Costly Test
I told the students that one day, if my career advancement required me to stop speaking of Christ, then I would know whether I have been striving for myself or for Him.
Because to follow Jesus means to be willing to lose recognition, status, or even career, rather than silence the truth of the gospel. That is the real litmus test of striving.
Conclusion
So yes, strive to improve. Strive to bless others. But above all, strive so that your life becomes a platform for the glory of Christ. That is the kind of striving that endures—not envy-driven, not man-centered, but Christ-exalting.