When Jesus spoke to the Pharisees in Matthew 23, He did not mince words. He said they

“bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.“

That is what happens when religion loses sight of God’s heart. It stops lifting people and starts crushing them.

It is easy to recognize a rule-driven religion. Some groups regulate every detail of life. Others pile on rituals and traditions until people feel like they are on a treadmill that never stops. From the outside, it looks exhausting, and it is.

But here is where it cuts close to home. It is always easier to see burdens in someone else’s religion than to notice the ones we carry in our own. We can look at others and shake our heads, but if we hold the mirror up, we may see the same spirit at work in us.

Legalism does not always wear plain clothes or chant prayers from a book. It sneaks into everyday faith and whispers:

That is the same spirit Jesus condemned. It makes God’s love feel like a paycheck you have to earn instead of a gift already given.

Sometimes it even dresses itself up as grace. It sounds modern and “gospel-centered.“ It goes like this: “Oh, of course, grace saves you. But if you were truly born again, then you would live right. And if you do not measure up, maybe you never really knew Christ in the first place.”

That kind of teaching may not sound like adding rules, but it lands the same way. It shifts the focus from what Christ has done to what you must prove. It keeps people doubting, striving, and never resting. And often, it turns into attacking anyone or anything that dares to lower the standards.

The message becomes: “Jesus saves, but it is up to you to keep showing you are good enough.“ That is not the gospel. That is just another burden.

This is exactly what happened to the early church. The Galatians began with joy in Christ. They received the Spirit freely. But soon teachers arrived, saying, “Yes, Christ is good, but you must also keep the law if you are really His.“

Paul’s response was sharp: “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?”

Why so strong? Once you add performance to grace, even performance as proof, you lose grace altogether. Christ plus anything is no gospel at all. The cross was not God giving us a new list of standards. The cross was God finishing the work once and for all.

Imagine a young woman who grew up in church but never felt secure in God’s love. Every time she slipped, even in small ways, she would hear, “If you were really saved, you would not do that.” She prayed the sinner’s prayer a dozen times, just in case.”

Fear smothered her faith. Trying to prove she belonged to Christ exhausted her. She will finally breathe freely on the day she discovers His promise secured salvation. It is not proven by her performance. For the first time, she rested.

Her story is not unusual. Many live under the same weight. They believe in Christ, yet feel they must constantly prove themselves to stay in His favor. That is not Christianity. That is slavery.

Why then do pastors and leaders often cling to this way of teaching? Fear. They fear people will take advantage of grace if they preach it without conditions. They believe holiness will collapse if they do not continually set a higher standard.

But rules do not produce holiness. Standards do not transform hearts. The law exposes sin, but only grace heals it. Scripture says, “The strength of sin is the law.“ True holiness flows from Christ living in us, not from fear of falling short.

The Gospels give us clear illustrations.

There was a woman bent over for eighteen years. Jesus healed her on the Sabbath, and instead of rejoicing, the leaders were furious because their rules had been broken.

A man had been lying by the pool of Bethesda for thirty-eight years. Jesus healed him, and the leaders scolded him for carrying his mat on the Sabbath.

There was a woman caught in adultery, dragged before Jesus. The leaders wanted to bury her under the law. Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.”

Each story shows the same pattern. Religion that crushes. Jesus who lifts.

Grace always puts mercy first, transformation after. Forgiveness before change. Acceptance before growth.

That is why Jesus said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Religion will always add burdens. Jesus will always take them off.

If you are weary today, it may be because you have been told that your life must constantly prove your salvation. Is it possible you have lived under the pressure of endless standards, rules, and expectations?

Hear this: God’s love for you is not based on how well you perform. Your perfection does not prove it. The cross secures it. You do not earn His favor. You receive it.

So, lay down the burden. Step off the treadmill. Stop trying to prove what Jesus has already finished.

Grace does not weaken holiness. Grace fuels it. And the closer you walk with Jesus, the freer, the stronger, and the more joyful you will be.