Are You an Altogether Christian or Merely an Imitation?
“The purpose of my instruction is that all believers would be filled with love that comes from a pure heart, a clear conscience, and genuine faith.” — 1 Timothy 1:5
Have you ever wondered how to tell a genuine diamond from cubic zirconia? To the untrained eye, they may appear identical, but the truth lies beneath the surface. A jeweler, using a magnifying lens to examine each facet, can look at a stone closely to distinguish the genuine from the imitation. A real diamond reveals its authenticity through pure brilliance, perfect clarity, and unbreakable resilience. These qualities are forged at the core. Immense pressure transforms carbon deep within the Earth. The purity of this composition allows light to pass through freely, producing a vibrant, clear, unmistakably authentic sparkle.
In contrast, the imitation may resemble authenticity but fall short. While lab-made cubic zirconia offers a manufactured, flawless appearance, it lacks the true diamond’s depth, distinctiveness, and durability. Its convincing sparkle fades under close inspection, exposing its true nature. Similarly, life often requires us to distinguish the genuine from the imitation. With people, character is revealed only through close and honest examination.
John Wesley, founder of Methodism, faced this kind of spiritual examination early on. Raised in a devout 18th-century English Christian home, he sincerely sought to live for God’s glory. At 17, he entered Christ Church, Oxford, where he studied theology, prayed, read Scripture, served the poor, and led a “holy club” of like-minded students. Outwardly, he appeared authentic. Yet beneath the surface, his devotion was fueled more by pure determination than pure love — setting the stage for a crisis of conscience.
In 1735, Wesley sailed to Savannah, Georgia, to serve as an Anglican missionary and rector of Christ Church. The four-month voyage became a turning point in his spiritual journey. During a violent storm at sea, panic overtook the passengers — including Wesley, who feared for his life. Yet a group of Moravian missionaries displayed a calm and unshakeable faith, singing hymns and praising God during the chaos. Their peace in the face of death exposed the fear at the core of Wesley’s own faith. In that moment, he realized he was an “almost Christian”— outwardly cloaked in a facade of godliness, not resilient enough to withstand the storm.
After setbacks and disappointment in America, Wesley prematurely returned to England, disillusioned and spiritually shaken. Despite his sincerity, he realized he lacked the inner transformation of authentic Christianity. He had been playing the part, but missing the pure heart, clear conscience and unwavering faith that defines a heart religion fueled by holy love. Rather than imitating Christ, he was an imitation Christian, lacking the depth, distinctiveness and durability of the real thing.
Everything changed in 1738 at a meeting on Aldersgate Street. As Wesley listened to a reading from Luther’s preface to Romans, the truth of God’s Word cut to his core. He later wrote that his heart was “strangely warmed.” In that moment, the Holy Spirit assured him of Christ’s forgiveness. Sanctification became real, holy love ignited and Wesley shed the facade of an “almost Christian” to embrace the vibrant reality of an “altogether Christian.”
In 1741, three years after Aldersgate, Wesley gave voice to his transformation in the sermon “The Almost Christian”. First preached at Oxford and later published to instruct future generations, it challenged believers to examine their hearts and discern whether they were “almost” or “altogether” Christian. Like diamonds and cubic zirconia, “altogether” and “almost” Christians may appear similar at first glance, but the difference is revealed by what lies beneath the surface: the authenticity of the core.
Wesley described the “almost Christian” as someone who sincerely desires to follow God, living morally, doing good and engaging in church life. Yet despite these outward expressions of devotion, something essential is missing. The difference lies between outward actions and inward transformation. As Paul warned in 2 Timothy 3:5, such individuals “act religious” but “reject the power that could make them godly.” Their faith is built on self-generated righteousness — anchored in personal discipline, self-defined virtue and autonomous strength — rather than on the transforming power of an all-sufficient God.
In contrast, the “altogether Christian” has died to self, come alive in Christ and totally depends on the Holy Spirit. Like a real diamond, an authentic Christian reveals their authenticity through: Pure brilliance — a heart ablaze with holy love, free from sin and hypocrisy, perfect clarity — a conscience cleansed and aligned with God’s truth, and unshakable resilience — a faith that endures life’s storms, anchored in Christ. These qualities are forged at the core; people transformed by the immense grace of God, igniting a pure, single-minded love for God, in which He alone is their glory and delight.
Refined by the fire of the Holy Spirit, this love becomes the source of sincere love for others, shaping both character and conduct. The purity of this composition allows God’s light to shine through, vibrant, clear, and unmistakably authentic. This type of belief is not mere intellectual agreement, but a “sure trust and confidence” in Christ — a faith that rests in grace, walks in obedience, embraces suffering with joy and witnesses to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit.
Seventy-five years after Wesley preached “The Almost Christian,” Sarah Milward, raised in privilege in Ashbourne, England, experienced her own soul-searching journey. Though raised in material comfort and cultural Christianity, she suffered early loss when her mother died, leaving her with a stern aunt and distant father. Her life took a dramatic turn on the eve of her wedding when she discovered her fiancé was not the man of integrity she believed him to be. Sarah broke off the engagement, and the young man, devastated by the rejection, was later committed to an asylum. The guilt and emotional weight of her decision left Sarah bedridden and unable to move past the pain.
This season of suffering led Sarah to a moment of honest self-examination. She was forced to confront the emptiness of her “respectable” Christian faith, which proved powerless in the face of life’s storms. A few years earlier, Methodists had begun meeting in Ashbourne and had purchased a plot of land from Sarah’s father, where they built a chapel. Though viewed with suspicion for their passionate worship, a minister from this group was called to visit Sarah during her crisis. His compassionate guidance helped her grasp the difference between being an “almost” Christian and an “altogether” one — awakening her to true heart religion.
Years later, this moment was remembered as the turning point in her life. A future biographer shared, “With Miss Milward, the change was not one of mere creed and sentiment. It penetrated every fiber of her being. It shone through her every capacity. It revolutionized her life and marked indelibly her whole career.” Despite her family’s disapproval, Sarah began attending the Methodist meetings where she met a humble and devout Methodist evangelist named John. Convinced God had brought them together, Sarah chose to marry him, even though her father refused to give his blessing. As a result, she was disowned and cut off from her inheritance. It was a costly decision, marked by sacrifice, but one firmly rooted in conviction and unshakeable faith.
Sarah and John did not live a life free of hardship, yet Sarah’s faith remained deep, distinct and durable. She taught her children to discern the difference between an “almost” and an “altogether” Christian. Years later, as her father, William, lay dying, he asked John to pray for him, rejecting the prayers offered by other respectable, “almost” Christians. With quiet joy, Sarah watched her husband lead her father into a real relationship with Jesus Christ, his Lord and Savior.
In her 1880 sermon “Aggressive Christianity,” Catherine Booth challenged “almost Christians”: “Show the world a real, living, self-sacrificing, toiling, triumphing religion, and the world will be influenced by it; but anything short of that they will turn around and spit upon!” Catherine spoke from experience — she had witnessed this altogether Christianity firsthand in her own mother, Sarah Milward. This same charge, first delivered to Timothy by Paul, still calls us out of complacency and into a faith that is deep, distinctive, and durable — a real faith forged in holy love that reflects Christ’s light through every facet of our lives. Today, may our hearts be “strangely warmed” as we boldly cast off the facade of an “almost Christian” and choose to embrace the vibrant reality of an authentic, Spirit-filled life. At the core, we are either altogether Christians or not Christians at all. Today, are you an altogether Christian, or are you merely an imitation?
Photo via Matt Palmer/Unsplash | This article was originally titled “Rediscovering the Diamond: An Altogether Real Christianity” in the January 2026 issue of The War Cry.