Walking Contradictions

Read

2 Timothy 2:19 “Everyone who confesses the name of the Lord must turn away from wickedness.”

Think

Have you ever seen someone wearing a company uniform doing something that clearly violated that company’s values? Maybe an employee arguing with a customer in public or blatantly cutting corners while on the job. It feels off, doesn’t it? The name they wear and the behavior they show are in conflict. The message they’re sending with their actions contradicts the brand on their chest.

Now think about this: as Christians, we carry the name of Christ—not on a uniform, but on our lives. We are known by his name. But what happens when the life we live contradicts the label we wear?

The third commandment isn’t just about misusing God’s name with our mouths. It’s about misrepresenting his name with our lives. In fact, one of the most subtle and serious ways we take the Lord’s name in vain is not by cursing, but by calling ourselves Christians while living in a way that ignores, contradicts, or dishonors him.

Paul speaks directly to this in his letter to Timothy. He says that everyone who names the name of the Lord—everyone who bears the label of faith—should turn away from wickedness. That’s not a demand for perfection. It’s a call to integrity. If we confess his name, we’re called to reflect his character.

But let’s be honest. The gap between what we say and how we live can grow wide – quickly. We post Bible verses on Instagram but gossip in group chats. We wear cross necklaces but cut corners when no one’s watching. We talk about grace but refuse to extend it to the people who annoy us. And often, we don’t even realize it’s happening.

It’s a kind of spiritual identity theft. We wear the name of Jesus but live like someone else entirely. And whether we intend to or not, we end up dragging his name through the mud—not with profanity, but with hypocrisy.

This is why the third commandment matters beyond our vocabulary. Because the world doesn’t just hear how we speak. It watches how we live. People form their opinion of God, in part, by watching those who claim to follow him. In that sense, our lives are sermons—either reinforcing the truth or obscuring it.

There’s an old phrase: “You may be the only Bible someone ever reads.” That might sound like pressure, but it’s more of an invitation. An invitation to live in a way that makes the name of God more beautiful, not more confusing. To live with consistency, not contradiction.

When there’s a gap between our label and our lifestyle, it doesn’t just damage our witness. It slowly hardens our hearts. We stop feeling the dissonance. We justify behavior that would have once convicted us. We learn to live with the mismatch. And eventually, God’s name becomes something we invoke when it’s convenient, not something we carry with reverence.

Imagine being given the keys to someone’s home. You’re entrusted with their space, their name on the mailbox, their reputation in the neighborhood. But instead of caring for it, you throw parties, neglect the maintenance, and leave the doors unlocked. That’s what it’s like to wear God’s name without living in alignment with it. We’re stewards of something sacred, not owners. We don’t get to redefine what his name represents.

But here’s the hope: God is not looking for perfect representatives. He’s looking for surrendered ones. People who are willing to close the gap between confession and character. Who are honest about their inconsistencies and willing to grow. Who ask not just, “Do I believe the right things?” but also, “Do I live in a way that makes his name more believable?”

That starts with awareness. Where does your life reflect the name of Jesus? Where does it resist him? Are there places where you’ve grown comfortable with contradiction? Where the people around you might be confused about what kind of God you belong to?

This isn’t about behavior modification. It’s about being reshaped by relationship. The more time you spend with Jesus, the more his name begins to shape everything—your words, your choices, your patterns, your values. You begin to live with integrity not out of pressure, but out of love. You begin to walk in a way that honors the name you carry.

Think about a well-loved family name passed down from generation to generation. Parents don’t just hope their kids keep the name—they hope they live in a way that brings honor to it. That’s what God desires for us. Not legalistic obedience, but legacy-carrying faithfulness.

The third commandment isn’t just a rule about speech. It’s a reminder about identity. If we bear God’s name, our lives should reflect his love, his holiness, and his grace. Not perfectly, but authentically. The goal isn’t to put on a show. It’s to live from the inside out.

So take inventory. What does your life say about the name you carry? Would someone watching your reactions, your choices, your schedule, your priorities, say, “That person must know Jesus”? Or would they see a label with no life behind it?

You don’t have to live in guilt. But you are invited to live with intention. The world is full of contradictions. Let your life be a contrast. Not a perfect picture, but a real one. Not flawless, but faithful. A life that says, “The name I carry matters. And I want to honor it, not just in what I say, but in how I live.”

Apply

Today, ask God to show you one area of your life where your words and actions are out of sync. Not to shame you, but to refine you. What needs to change so that the name you carry is reflected in the choices you make? Let that awareness lead to repentance—not just of speech, but of lifestyle. Begin again, not by trying harder, but by walking closer with the One whose name you bear.

Pray

God, I carry your name, but I confess that sometimes my life doesn’t reflect it. Forgive me for the gaps between my words and my actions. Help me to live with integrity and love. Let my life honor your name, not just on the surface, but deep in my heart. In Jesus’ name. Amen.