Still Becoming
(And If You’re Not, You’re in Trouble)
I’ve been at this a long time. Preaching, that is…
So long, in fact, that when I was first ordained for ministry, George Washington was President.
Alright—slight exaggeration.
But only slight.
When I was ordained, powdered wigs weren’t required, but they were definitely encouraged by the vibe.
Back then, they gathered all of us future ministers together and asked a series of questions. Some were expected. Some were serious. Some made the room nod solemnly in agreement.
And then… some made the room laugh.
Questions like:
“Do you love Jesus?”
Well… yes.
Duh.
That’s kind of why I’m here.
That’s like asking a firefighter if they like water.
But then came the question.
“Are you moving on toward perfection?”
I swear I could hear my wife chuckling somewhere in the crowd.
She knew me then.
Very young.
Very immature.
Very emotionally hot-tempered.
Perfection was not exactly looming.
And here’s the problem:
The folks ordaining us were using the Greek meaning of the word perfection.
The folks sitting in the pews were using the English meaning.
Two very different tracks.
One means becoming.
The other means arriving.
And becoming does not have a finish line.
Not now.
Not ever.
If becoming had a finish line, Jesus would’ve crossed it—and retired early.
Becoming Is for Everyone (Yes, Even You)
This isn’t just a message for pastors.
It’s for teenagers still trying to figure out who they are.
It’s for parents who are exhausted and wondering if growth is still possible.
It’s for retirees who secretly think formation has an expiration date.
It’s for anyone who’s breathing.
Because the moment you stop becoming, you don’t stay the same—you drift backward.
I’ve been preaching for 30 years.
That means I’ve preached sermons that made heaven smile…
and some that probably made angels check their watches.
And here’s the confession you don’t always hear from a pulpit:
I still want to get better.
Not shinier.
Not louder.
Not trendier.
Better.
I still study.
I still read.
I still sit under coaches.
I still let people tell me hard truths.
Because every coach needs a coach.
And every pastor needs a pastor.
And honestly, every human being needs someone who loves them enough to say,
“Hey… you might want to look at that.”
If you think you’ve arrived, you didn’t—you stalled.
Growth doesn’t stop because you’re old; you get old when you stop growing.
The Lie We Quietly Believe
Somewhere along the way, life whispers a dangerous lie:
“After enough years, you’re supposed to arrive.”
Arrive at confidence.
Arrive at mastery.
Arrive at autopilot.
But autopilot is where callings go to die quietly.
The moment you stop becoming, you start repeating.
The moment you stop learning, you start reheating leftovers and calling it a fresh meal.
Experience without reflection doesn’t make you wise—it just makes you confident.
And confidence without reflection is really just arrogance with a calendar.
Time doesn’t automatically deepen us.
It just amplifies who we already are.
Jesus Ruined Our Excuses (Matthew 5:48)
Jesus says:
“Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
Now before you panic—or pretend you’ve already pulled that off—let’s talk Greek.
The word Jesus uses for perfect is τέλειος (teleios).
It does not mean flawless.
It does not mean finished.
It does not mean spiritually airbrushed.
Teleios means mature.
Complete in process.
Fully developing.
Becoming what you were designed to become.
In other words, God isn’t asking for polished.
He’s asking for progressing.
Not finished—faithful.
Not arrived—advancing.
God isn’t demanding sinless perfection.
He’s inviting relentless growth.
Becoming Is a Direction, Not a Destination
Here’s the uncomfortable truth:
If becoming had a finish line, Jesus would’ve crossed it.
And yet even Jesus:
grew in wisdom
withdrew for prayer
listened
submitted
learned obedience through suffering
If the Son of God was still becoming, what makes us think we’re done?
You don’t graduate from growth.
You don’t age out of formation.
You don’t receive a spiritual gold watch and coast.
Teleios doesn’t mean perfect—it means you’re still showing up to the work.
Truths We’d Rather Not Admit
Longevity does not equal maturity.
Experience does not guarantee depth.
Years lived do not excuse shallow souls.
You can attend church for decades and still resist change.
You can know Scripture and still avoid formation.
You can be busy for God and untouched by God.
Teachability—not age—is the true measure of maturity.
The most dangerous phrase at any stage of life is still:
“I already know that.”
Because the moment you’re done learning, you’re done leading—whether you have a title or not.
Why I Still Need Others
I still invite coaching and accountability because blind spots don’t disappear with age.
They just get better at hiding.
Pride grows best in isolation.
Feedback keeps ego from hijacking calling.
Self-led leaders eventually self-destruct.
And people who think they don’t need anyone usually end up alone.
Better sermons—and better lives—flow from better souls.
I’ve been preaching 30 years.
And by God’s grace, I’m still becoming.
Still learning.
Still stretching.
Still submitting.
Still sharpening the blade.
Because the day I stop becoming is the day I stop being useful.
And I don’t want to reach the end of my life—at any age—with growth God offered me but pride talked me out of.
Becoming does not have a finish line.
And thank God for that!
As I always say…
The Best Is Yet to Come,
Rev. John Roberts
This is a great message! I love focusing on the meaning of becoming! I most certainly have not arrived at perfection, not will I ever. But I hope to always continue to strive to become!! Thank you, John, for this awesome reminder and encouragement!