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Part 4 of 10
Understanding Quiet Quitting and Real Commitment
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The term quiet quitting has become a buzzword in our culture. It describes a situation where individuals who are dissatisfied with their careers, relationships, or lives keep showing up physically but have abandoned their commitment mentally and emotionally.
Quiet quitting occurs when you refuse to bow out, but also refuse to buy in. Instead of honestly saying "I don't have the fire, the commitment, or the energy," you show up but don't fully commit. As a result, your family, your church, and your company only get the rest of you—not the best of you.
You know you're struggling with quiet quitting when you perform the right actions but have the wrong attitude. You show up, but truth be told, you ain't really here.
Many people in church today are quiet quitting because they know it's what they're supposed to do—not necessarily what they want to do.
There are seasons in everyone's life where we quit quietly. Maybe your spouse is talking to you, but you're not listening to anything they say. You're just saying okay to end the conversation, not to reach growth together. You might tell someone "I'm praying for you" and never actually pray, because the phrase becomes a commitment of conversation rather than a commitment of action.
You quit quietly when what you say doesn't match what you do. You might enjoy praising because it's energetic, but you don't enjoy prayer because it requires a deeper level of devotion. It's called quiet quitting.
In Matthew 15:8, Jesus addresses this directly:
These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.
Jesus was dealing with people who were doing the work with their hands but not with their hearts.
When you deal with people in your life, you need to understand three things: Where is their head? Where is their heart? And what are they doing with their hands?
The problem in many ministries and organizations is that we only pull out people's hands. We ask them to do the work, but then we never check on their heart. The only time ministry leaders hear from their volunteers is if they're going to be at rehearsal—nobody ever asks, "How are your babies?"
When people only ask for your hands and never do an inventory of your heart, your head begins to make a decision. It says, "All they want is my hands. They don't care about my heart." Because you are faithful, you continue doing the work with your hands, but your head tells your heart: We just here. That's quiet quitting.
If quiet quitting was a person, his name would be Judas. The life of Judas shows us that sometimes our hearts leave commitment before our feet do. This is critical to understand.
We know that Judas betrayed Jesus. But the real question is: When did Judas's heart decommit? This is important because we tend to judge what people are doing without doing an inventory of why they're doing it.
The moment Judas quietly quit is found in John 12:4-8, when a woman breaks an alabaster box and washes Jesus' feet with her hair. This is the turning point.
The alabaster box contained spikenard, a pure and valuable ointment grown in India. It was valued at around 300 pence—which is equivalent today to about $15,000 to $20,000.
She broke a $15,000 to $20,000 bottle of oil. There are two types of people: the cheap and the investor. The cheap person thinks, "I wouldn't have broken that much oil. I would have gotten some soap and baby oil." But she used spikenard because her commitment was at a different level.
Why does she break the container? She keeps the oil in a box, but when she breaks it, she's saying something profound: "I'm not going to leave nothing. When it comes to Jesus, I'm giving everything." She broke the box to show God that everything she has is His.
Some of you are stuck where you are because you keep rationing out what you're going to give God. You give Him a little worship, a little praise, a little giving. But when you break the box, your commitment says: You can have my mind, my spirit, my business, my children—everything—because I know God multiplies what you give Him.
In the 21st century, the woman with the alabaster box said, "I'mma break the box." That means "I'mma break the bank." This is why we give like we give at Rock City. We break the box.
When she breaks the box, the text says the aroma fills the room. There's something about certain fragrances—they don't stay on you; they fill the entire space around you. People can smell them from far away.
This is why your coworkers can't stand you. Your cousin doesn't like you. When you break the box and your commitment is real, whatever mess was in that room before, when you walk in, it changes everything. Your worship, your presence, your commitment—it fills the room.
Here's something profound: the spikenard was supposed to be saved for burial. When someone died, that oil would be used to prepare their body. Yet she puts it on the living—on Jesus.
Or, what if she had a prophetic insight and realized this was a dead man walking? Jesus was headed to the cross. She understood the assignment.
In this moment, we see two levels of commitment:
If Jesus is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end, if He can look into people and see their hearts, then Jesus knew Judas was stealing while He was walking with him. He knew. Yet He kept Judas close.
This is why there are certain people in your life that nobody can understand why you still have around. They might say, "Why are you still with them?" But you know: They are your assignment. Crazy as they are, you love them because God told you to stay there.
Look at what the text really says about Judas:
He did not say this because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief. As keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.
Judas was a liar. He didn't care about the poor; he was stealing from the common fund. Selfishness is a deep-rooted commitment to yourself. And many of you will never be committed to God until you decommit from yourself.
When the woman gives her all and Jesus checks Judas in response, Judas becomes offended. This is the key moment:
Judas betrayed Jesus because he was offended. He didn't know how to handle correction.
Jesus publicly corrects Judas, and offense creates a gap. Someone or something has to fill that gap. If you can't handle correction, that's proof that you're not truly committed.
You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.
Jesus is saying: I never know when the moment is coming. I may not get this moment again. This is why we must be sold out and listening to God. When she gave her all, it moved Jesus. But when correction came, Judas couldn't handle it.
Offense will always create a gap, and that's where most people die—because they have to fill that gap with something. When you're offended, you tend to lean on something or someone to justify staying offended. And that's where quiet quitting becomes betrayal.
When offense happens, it creates a gap. Offense creates a gap, and this is where most people die spiritually. When you're offended, you have to fill that gap with something—and what you choose to fill it with determines your future.
The challenge is that when you're offended, you tend to lean on whoever sides with you. You gather support around your offense, and suddenly you've recruited people into your hurt. This is how offense spreads and deepens.
Let's look at what Jesus actually heard versus what Judas said. Judas said, "Why are we spending all this money on this?" But what Jesus heard was, "You really aren't worth all that." There's often a difference between what we say and what people hear.
Jesus responded by saying, "It's bad enough you're going to betray me, but now you're not going to disrespect me." Jesus knew Judas was going to betray Him, and He was making a statement about honor and commitment.
When an offense creates a gap in your heart—a heart gap—you have a choice: fill it with suspicion or fill it with trust. Many of our commitments will be infiltrated by what we put in the gap.
This is why real commitment requires people who love us enough to tell us hard things. In 2023, I'm going to say some hard things to people I love, and I'm not going to come back and interpret it. If people truly commit to each other, they need honest conversations—face to face, not behind closed doors gathering support.
When someone comes to you in love and says something difficult, that's a sign they value the relationship. If they don't, a gap forms. Look at how different musical styles were received in church history—from "Oh Happy Day" to Kirk Franklin. People said these things were secular or demonic. But what matters is whether we handle the hard conversations with integrity.
God cannot lead you if He cannot offend you. This is a hard truth. If you can't be corrected, God can't direct you.
I can't lead you if I can't offend you. When someone with anointing comes to you, the first thing that might happen is offense. Look at a young preacher I know—he was doing youth days, was a rock star in Baptist circles. When he came to us, I sent him to the parking lot. We didn't talk for three or four months. Then one day I told him, "There's an oil on you, but who you were has to shift. You need to walk in your real name." His mama named him Jeremy, but he'd been running from it. I said, "There are a thousand Jeremies. You need to be an original."
But here's the thing: you can't offend me if you haven't previously honored me. This young man could receive that correction because there was already a foundation of respect. You can't walk into someone's life as a stranger and offend them with authority.
Offense can turn you into a serpent or a son—offense reveals your commitment. Go home and pray. Ask God for something. Hear Him say no. See how you respond. Put something in the offering, believe God for it, and it doesn't happen. That's when you find out what you're really made of.
This is why heaven cannot be bribed. I don't raise offerings at our church because I realized at 29 that I can't force people to do what God won't allow them to do. If you give, God bless you. If you never put in a dime, I don't know how much anyone gives. I don't look at envelopes. I don't know what we've given this year.
I'm on a mission. If my treasurer came to me and said, "Based on giving numbers, you should adjust your message," I wouldn't do it. I refuse to preach with a heart gap. I never had what I needed—I've always had who I needed. Many of you are stressing because you're living for the what, but I'm living for the who. If I get the who, He'll give me the what.
The courage to commit requires our ability to handle correction. When I send pastors out to work, I'm going to offend them. That's how growth happens.
But I want to be clear: just because you can receive correction doesn't mean you become a doormat. Don't say nothing else with your dumb self. Sit down. Shut up. That's not maturity—that's passivity. You have to maintain your dignity while staying teachable.
Judas earned the right to betray Jesus. He was there. He was part of the inner circle. Jesus taught him how to handle offense.
When the moment came, Jesus could have reacted differently. He could have told Peter to cut Judas instead of the guard. But instead, Jesus said, "Whatever you're going to do, just do it quickly." He was showing Judas—and us—how to walk in love while offended.
Here's what happened: Judas got offended about money because he wanted to profit from the woman's offering. He betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver—the very thing he was offended about. Then he threw the money back in the temple and hanged himself on a tree.
Meanwhile, Jesus hung on a tree because He could handle offense. You're going to hang either way it goes. You might as well hang with the one who's going to hang with you.
For everybody who's offended, everybody who feels unappreciated, everybody who feels disrespected—hang on in there. Weeping may endure for the night, but joy is coming in the morning.
I know it's dark. I know it's hard. I know it's crazy. But if you stay focused and stay locked in, God is getting ready to do what eyes have not seen and ears have not heard.
When Judas quit, he quit quietly. When you quit, make sure you're not quitting quietly while pretending to stay. That's called quiet quitting, and it becomes betrayal.
I want to free you from half measures. When you get medicine, finish the whole bottle. When you commit, stay committed. Don't take half your prescription and wonder why you get sick again.
I'm asking you: can I free you? Stay committed. Let this message penetrate your heart. Let your commitment go beyond the spiritual—let it touch how you show up for your communities, your schools, your families.
In 2023, many of us need to release our Judas-like heart that allows issues to stay unaddressed. Raise up some millionaires who are committed to people. Don't just be blessed so you can move away—remember where you come from. Support your HBCUs. Give back. Remain committed.
Commitment is not merely a spiritual matter—it must extend into every area of life. If people are going to be set free, healed, and delivered, we have to remain committed beyond the walls of the church.
Look at what's happening to our HBCUs across the country. Many are underfunded, yet we've graduated from them and moved on. We must have a sense of commitment to give back to where we came from. Yes, we want to live well. Yes, we want safety and resources. But don't let success cause you to forget your roots.
The narrative needs to change. We're not trying to be blessed so we can move away and forget. Raise up some millionaires who are committed to people. I'm praying this publicly because I believe God for it: let there be millionaires in this church who create opportunities for others—teachers, students, families in need.
I speak by faith that by fall 2023, we will create a store where every teacher can come and get all the supplies they need for free because we're committed. This city will be better because of us. Our families will be better because of us. God is doing something fresh in the earth because of our commitment.
For every person who has remained committed, God sees you. I pray that He speeds up what was meant for later. If something was supposed to happen in 2025, may it come in 2023. You've been faithful over a few things—now God will rank you ruler over many. I speak this by faith.
