The Mockery Is Part of the Job

This isn’t a fairytale faith. This is faith for real life.

Practicing faith sounds simple until people start watching you live it.

It’s easy to say “I trust God” when everyone around you agrees. It’s easy to talk about prayer, grace, forgiveness, and obedience when nobody’s laughing, questioning your motives, or waiting for you to mess up.

But living by faith in real life is different.

Sometimes people mock it directly. Sometimes they do it quietly. A comment here. A joke there. A look. A smirk. A little sarcasm wrapped in just enough humor to pretend it was harmless.

And if I’m being honest, it shows you something.

I’ve seen the eye rolls. I’ve felt the absence — people who used to be around who suddenly aren’t. “Oh, he reads godly books now.” Said with just enough of a smirk that you’re not supposed to notice it landed.

Honestly, it doesn’t really sting anymore. What it does is show me who’s real and who isn’t — who actually stands where they say they stand. I’m good either way. I’ve got God, my family, my friends, my neighbors. That’s enough.

What actually bothers me isn’t the mockery itself. It’s this: people would rather mock what I’m trying to do than try it themselves — or just be proud of someone else for trying. Mocking is easier than either one. It costs nothing. Growing costs something. Being genuinely happy for someone else’s growth costs something too. Mockery is the cheap seat.

I actually asked my Facebook page why they thought this happens — why people get quiet, distant, or start mocking the second someone tries to be better. The answers came fast, and they were more honest than I expected. Jealousy came up more than once. So did comfort — people settled where they’re at, watching someone else make changes, feeling it as a quiet accusation even when it wasn’t meant as one. One person put it about as plain as it gets: watching someone else improve their life can make people feel inadequate, so mocking becomes the easier way to feel better about themselves than actually trying.

None of that surprised me, honestly. But it confirmed something I already suspected — this isn’t really about faith specifically. It’s about what happens any time someone chooses to change in front of people who haven’t.

But then I remember something.

They mocked Jesus too.

So maybe being misunderstood, laughed at, or looked down on for trying to walk with Christ shouldn’t surprise us as much as it does. Maybe the real test isn’t whether people mock our faith. Maybe the real test is whether we can stay faithful, humble, and Christlike while they do.

They Mocked Him. He Kept Walking.

Jesus wasn’t spared this. He was mocked while He hung on the cross — people standing right there, sneering, daring Him to prove Himself (Luke 23:35-37 NLT). And when they insulted Him, He didn’t retaliate. He didn’t threaten revenge. He trusted Himself to God, who judges fairly (1 Peter 2:23 NLT).

If the world hated Him, we shouldn’t be shocked when it comes for us too (John 15:18 NLT).

That’s not a reason to feel sorry for ourselves. It’s a reason to stop being surprised.

The Mockery That Doesn’t Look Like Mockery

Some of it is direct — a joke, a jab, a sarcastic comment dressed up as humor.

But some of it is quieter, and honestly, it’s the one that shows you the most.

Sometimes when you start talking publicly about faith, positivity, encouragement, and trying to become more Christlike, you find out some people weren’t as close as you thought they were.

They may not attack you directly. They may just get quiet. They may pull away. They may act standoffish. They may watch from a distance, waiting to see if this “godly” version of you is going to last.

I’ve heard it said behind my back, one way or another: “Oh, he’s trying to be godly — let’s avoid him.” “Let’s see how long this lasts with his godliness.”

And unfortunately, that’s what bothers me a little — not because it hurts me, but because of what it says about where some people actually stand.

But I would rather be mocked for trying to follow Christ than be accepted for staying the same.

I’m Not Standing on Any High Ground

Before anyone thinks I’m above this — I’m not. Christians aren’t perfect. I’m not perfect. We fail. We say things wrong. We react wrong. We need to repent. We need to ask forgiveness. We need grace just like everyone else.

But here’s what I find interesting: some of the same people who mock faith, prayer, and trying to live for Christ are often the same ones who ask for prayer when trouble hits hard enough. And I’ll pray for them — because I know what it’s like to need something bigger than myself.

There’s an irony in it too. The same people who’d tell you “you need to do better, take a different approach, don’t be so hard on people” — those same voices sometimes mock you the moment you actually start doing better. You can’t win by their measure. So stop trying to. I’ve written before about how many times you can be broken and put back together — this is just one more place that keeps proving true.

What I Actually Do With It

I’m not going to pretend I’ve got some perfect spiritual reflex for this. There are moments my flesh wants to say something back — something sharp enough to make the point land the way the eye roll did.

Here’s what I try to do instead, imperfectly, more often than not:

I notice it, name it for what it is, and let it go. This is where asking who’s really behind the moment matters most — is this flesh, is this the enemy stirring something, or is this just someone being someone? I pray — usually something short and honest, not eloquent. God, thank You for showing me where people really stand. Help me not treat them any different for it. Sometimes I fail that part. Sometimes I say something a little sharper than I should’ve. That’s real too.

But I don’t let it change the direction I’m walking. That’s the only part I’ve gotten consistent at — not reacting perfectly, just not turning around.

What It Actually Shows Me

I won’t pretend some of that distance doesn’t stay real. Some of it hasn’t closed back up, and honestly, I don’t know if it will. But I’m not chasing it to close. I know who’s actually standing with me — God, my family, my friends, my neighbors — and that’s enough to stand on.

What I’m Actually Standing On

I just want true friendships. Real family relationships. Not built on approval, but strong enough to hold up when I’m choosing to grow instead of staying comfortable.

The goal was never to make people stop mocking me. The goal is to seek God, ask for forgiveness, open my Bible, learn what Jesus actually did, and try — imperfectly, daily — to treat people with respect and dignity. To acknowledge I’m not there yet, and keep working at it anyway.

This isn’t a fairytale faith. This isn’t pretend courage.

This is faith for real life.

It’s faith when people laugh. Faith when people misunderstand. Faith when people mock what they don’t want to understand. Faith when your flesh wants to fire back, but the Spirit reminds you to stay steady.

Jesus was mocked, and He kept walking.

So by His grace, so will I.

Who’s pulled away from you since you started trying? And be honest with yourself for a second — who have you pulled away from, watching to see if it would last?