I recently saw an interesting list on Twitter. Written and shared by a pastor in North Carolina, it gave the “99 steps to Christian manhood.”

The list is divided into categories like “Christian Life,” “Personal Habits,” and “Relational Qualities.” Under “Christian Life” are things like “Write down prayers,” “Sing in Church,” and “Read four biographies in a year.”

The rest of the list contains a mix of good habits (exercise good hygiene), some practical advice (learn to change a tire), some old-fashioned manners (don’t wear a hat inside), and some arbitrary preferences (nix neck hair, drink coffee not tea, don’t wear cargo shorts). It also gives advice that can foster unhealthy stereotypes and behaviors, like “don’t cry (much),” and “sleep less.”

Is it Really So Bad?

Is this list meant to be taken seriously? There is no indication otherwise, though I doubt the pastor meant the list to serve as a formula for actual salvation. To some, the list may seem like good guidelines to help young men be responsible, productive members of society and their church. When so many young adults lack practical skills, and many people bemoan the death of the “man’s man,” is such a list really so bad?

I believe it is, even if the intention was to start a light-hearted discussion about godly manliness. Why? Because, labeled “99 steps to Christian manhood,” it can be a dangerous stumbling block. It perpetuates the deadly notion that by following a strict set of rules, we can make ourselves into good Christians.

I know this from my own experience.

Is Life Easier With a List?

As an adolescent figuring out my faith, I thought being a good Christian would be easier with a spiritual to-do list. I loved certain chapters in Proverbs, abundant in pithy, memorable sayings about how to live. I also liked verses like Galatians 5:22-23 — “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” It was a list of virtues I could quickly measure myself up against.

Sounds good. But I found I couldn’t follow every biblical proverb perfectly. I lacked certain “fruits,” no matter how often I recited them.

Sure, I memorized the fruit of the Spirit, but missed that those virtues were fruit. They weren’t something I could force myself to embody. They had to grow out of something rooted deep within: a relationship with the Savior.

Fortunately, my faith matured. I realized that’s not how the Gospel works. Relationships can’t be condensed into to-do lists. Either your tidy list will become overrun with the demands of real life, or you’ll lose a “relationship” after failing to check off one item.

Real relationships can withstand what no checklist can, because they’re based on love, not perfection, good works, or superficial habits. Jesus offers a real relationship.

A Dead End Road

It’s possible to read the Bible through every year, memorize large passages of Scripture, be active in church, study theology, and abstain from sexual immorality — all items numbered under the list’s “Christian Life” requirements — without actually knowing Christ. Jesus says this in Matthew:

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

That’s why the list going around Twitter is dangerous, whatever the pastor’s intentions might have been. I’ve been at a place in my life where such a list would have been a welcome sight. I wouldn’t have stopped to question the sharer’s intentions, or ponder whether it was really meant to be followed to the letter. I would have simply latched onto the instructions I thought I needed in order to be a good Christian girl, and keep tabs on my spiritual progress.

But that would have led me down a dead end road to prideful, legalistic religion, and ultimately away from a living, saving relationship with Jesus Christ.

Liberty McArtor is a freelance writer in the great state of Texas, where she lives in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex with her husband and son. Follow Liberty on Twitter @LibertyMcArtor, or learn more about her at LibertyMcArtor.com.