Alright, let’s wrap up this Spiritual Deflection series with a bang. We’ve been calling out the ways Christians dodge accountability with spiritual jargon. Part 1 tackled “don’t be offended” as an excuse for being a jerk. Part 2 exposed “The Spirit told me” as a trump card to avoid hard truths or push personal agendas. Now, we’re hitting the third leg of this unholy trinity: “That’s just who I am.” You’ve heard it—someone’s abrasive, lazy, or selfish, and when called out, they shrug and say, “Hey, that’s just me.” As if Jesus signed off on them staying that way forever.
The old hymn says, “Just as I am, without one plea…” Beautiful truth—Jesus accepts us, flaws and all. But some folks twist that line into, “Just as I am, and that’s how I’ll stay.” Spoiler alert: that’s not biblical. Jesus meets us where we are, but He never leaves us there. When “That’s just who I am” becomes a defense for bad behavior, it’s not about salvation—it’s about stubbornness. Let’s unpack this with scripture, some real talk, and a call to do better, because the church’s witness is on the line.
The Problem: Stagnation Dressed as Faith
Picture this: someone in church snaps at a new believer, gossips about a neighbor, or slacks off when it’s time to serve. You point it out—gently, let’s hope—and they hit you with, “That’s just who I am. God made me this way.” Or worse: “The Spirit hasn’t told me to change.” Funny how the Spirit never seems to nudge them toward humility or hard work. I’ve heard someone argue, “Saying I need to change is legalism!” Nope. It’s biblical. 2 Corinthians 5:17 lays it down:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (NIV)
The Greek kainē ktisis (new creation) means a total overhaul—not a slight tweak (BDAG 2000, s.v. “κτίσις”). If you’re in Christ, your old ways—anger, selfishness, pride—don’t get a lifetime pass. They’re on the chopping block. Jesus accepts us as we are, but He’s in the business of making us new, not coddling our bad habits.
This series has been about dismantling misused theology, from complementarians twisting sigatōsan to silence women (Parts 5–6) to Calvinists forcing proorizō into determinism. “That’s just who I am” is another dodge, echoing the Confederate States of America’s misuse of Philemon to justify slavery (Part 1) or American Churchianity’s cultural biases (bonus episode). It’s spiritual deflection, plain and simple, and it harms the church’s witness.
The Biblical Call: Transformation, Not Excuses
Scripture doesn’t mince words about growth. Romans 12:2 says:
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (NIV)
The Greek metamorphoō (be transformed) is where we get “metamorphosis”—think caterpillar to butterfly (BDAG 2000, s.v. “μεταμορφόω”). It’s not a suggestion; it’s a command. God’s not okay with us staying stuck in our old patterns. He’s rewiring our minds to reflect His will, not our quirks. James 2:17 drives it home:
“In the same way, faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (NIV)
Faith (pistis) isn’t just believing—it’s action. If your faith doesn’t show up in how you treat people, serve, or grow, it’s “dead” (nekra, lifeless; BDAG 2000, s.v. “νεκρός”). Saying “That’s just who I am” to dodge change is like saying, “I’m saved, so I don’t need to act like it.” That’s not faith—it’s a cop-out.
Jesus Himself sets the bar high. In John 13:35, He says:
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (NIV)
The Greek agapē (love) isn’t warm fuzzies—it’s sacrificial, others-first action (BDAG 2000, s.v. “ἀγάπη”). If your “just who I am” vibe leaves people saying, “If that’s what Christians are like, count me out,” you’re not reflecting Jesus. I’ve seen it. I’ve done it. Years ago, I brushed off a friend’s hurt feelings with “I’m just blunt—that’s me.” It wasn’t until they stopped coming to church that I realized my “bluntness” was a skandalon (stumbling block, Romans 14:13; Part 1), pushing them away from Jesus. We can do better.
The Damage: Hurting the Church’s Witness
When Christians lean on “That’s just who I am” to excuse bad behavior, it’s not just personal—it’s a wrecking ball to the church. Imagine a new believer, excited but unsure, who gets snubbed by someone whose attitude screams, “Deal with it, that’s me.” They don’t see Jesus’ love—they see arrogance. They walk away, not just from that church, but from faith altogether. I’ve known folks who felt more accepted at their job than in a pew. That’s a failure on us, not them.
This connects to Part 1’s point: harshness cloaked in “don’t be offended” drives people away (John 6:37, ekballō). Part 2 showed how “The Spirit told me” can dodge accountability, like Montanists claiming divine authority. “That’s just who I am” is the same game—using spiritual language to avoid growth. It’s like saying, “The Spirit hasn’t told me to change,” when scripture’s screaming, “Take up your cross!” (Matthew 16:24). Jesus didn’t die so we could stay comfy in our flaws—He died to transform us (2 Corinthians 3:18).
Here’s a real example: a guy in a church I knew was notorious for gossip. When confronted, he’d shrug, “That’s just how I am—I’m a talker.” His words hurt relationships, sowed division, and pushed people out. Ephesians 4:29, from Part 1, calls out “unwholesome talk” (sapros), urging words that build up (oikodomē). His “just me” excuse didn’t cut it—it contradicted God’s call to love and unity (1 Corinthians 12:25–26).
The Truth: Jesus Changes Us
The gospel isn’t a free pass to stay stuck—it’s a call to change. You don’t have to clean up to come to Jesus. He accepts you, mess and all. But once you meet Him, He starts the cleanup. Galatians 6:1, from Parts 1–2, says to “restore gently” (katartizō, mend). That applies to others and ourselves. If you’re abrasive, lazy, or selfish, Jesus isn’t signing off on it—He’s inviting you to grow. Philippians 1:6 promises:
“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (NIV)
The Greek epiteleō (carry to completion) means God’s working to finish what He started (BDAG 2000, s.v. “ἐπιτελέω”). That’s not legalism—it’s grace. But you’ve got to say yes to the process. Saying “That’s just who I am” is like telling the Potter, “Leave this clay alone” (Isaiah 64:8).
Some claim change is “works-based salvation.” Wrong. Salvation is by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8–9), but faith produces fruit (Galatians 5:22–23). If nothing in your life changes—no growth in kindness, patience, or love (agapē)—something’s off. James 2:17 isn’t playing around: dead faith doesn’t save. Jesus calls us to take up our cross (Matthew 16:24, aparneomai, deny oneself), not our comfort zone.
A Practical Call: Own It, Grow It
Here’s the deal:
- You don’t need to be perfect to come to Jesus. He’s got you (John 6:37).
- But once you’re His, expect change. He’s not leaving you “just as you are” (2 Corinthians 5:17).
- If you’re stuck, check your heart. Are you dodging growth with “That’s just me”? (Romans 12:2)
Spiritual maturity looks like humility, transformation, and love—not spiritual jargon or convenient excuses. When we deflect with “That’s just who I am,” we’re not just hurting ourselves—we’re hurting the church’s witness. People should see Jesus in us, not a shrug and an excuse (John 13:35).
I’ve messed this up. I’ve hidden behind “I’m just wired that way” to avoid tough changes. But God’s grace doesn’t let us stay there. He’s patient, but He’s persistent. The church isn’t a museum for “just as I am” statues—it’s a workshop for new creations.
Wrapping Up the Series
This Spiritual Deflection series has called out three excuses: “don’t be offended” (Part 1), “The Spirit told me” (Part 2), and “That’s just who I am” (Part 3). They all dodge accountability, hurt others, and dim the gospel’s light. From complementarian misreadings of adelphoi (Part 4) to prosperity preachers twisting eudokēo (upcoming post), misused theology is a pattern we’ve got to break. The church is called higher—to love (agapē), to truth, to transformation. Don’t weaponize “offense” to excuse being offensive. Don’t use the Spirit to dodge hard things. And don’t stay “just as you are” when Jesus is making you new. He’ll help you get there—just say yes.
Bibliography
Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Rooted & Reckoned 
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