What does it mean to be an imitator of Christ?

'What Would Jesus Do' became a popular phrase decades ago, printed on bracelets and bumper stickers, and it captured something true even if it eventually wore thin as a slogan. Scripture really does call believers to imitate Christ, not as a marketing campaign but as the natural shape a transformed life takes. Understanding what this means requires going deeper than simply asking what Jesus would do in a given moment; it means asking who Jesus actually is, and letting that reality reshape you from the inside.

Paul tells the Ephesians, 'be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us' (Ephesians 5:1-2). Notice the order: identity comes first, 'beloved children,' and imitation flows from that identity, not the other way around. You don't imitate Christ to earn belovedness; you imitate Him because you already are beloved, and love naturally wants to resemble what it loves. Paul makes a similar appeal to the Philippians: 'Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,' before describing Christ's self-emptying humility (Philippians 2:5-8).

Imitating Christ's humility means following His example of serving others without needing recognition, even washing His disciples' feet and telling them, 'I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you' (John 13:15). Imitating His forgiveness means extending mercy the way He did, 'as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive' (Colossians 3:13). Imitating His endurance under suffering means following His pattern of trusting God rather than retaliating: 'when he was reviled, he did not revile in return... but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly' (1 Peter 2:23). Imitating His obedience means valuing the Father's will above personal comfort, as Jesus prayed, 'not my will, but yours, be done' (Luke 22:42).

Imitating His compassion means noticing the people He noticed, the outcasts, the sick, the overlooked, rather than only the people whose approval might benefit you. When Jesus saw the crowds, He 'had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd' (Matthew 9:36), and that compassion moved Him to action, not just sympathy. Imitating Christ, then, isn't only about internal character traits; it's about where your attention goes, whether you notice the people society tends to walk past, and whether noticing moves you to actually do something.

It's important that biblical imitation isn't simply external mimicry, like an actor copying gestures without any inner change. Paul describes something deeper: 'we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit' (2 Corinthians 3:18). Christlikeness is produced by the Spirit as believers behold Christ, in Scripture, in prayer, in worship, not manufactured by sheer effort to act more like Him. The imitation is real, but it's a fruit of transformation, not a substitute for it.

Paul made a striking, almost bold claim to the Corinthians: 'Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ' (1 Corinthians 11:1). He wasn't claiming perfection, elsewhere calling himself the 'foremost' of sinners (1 Timothy 1:15), but he understood discipleship as something visibly transmitted, one life pointing to Christ closely enough that others could imitate the pointer and still find themselves pointed rightly toward Jesus. This is a helpful model for ordinary believers too: you may never preach a sermon, but the way you forgive, work, and love can become, for someone watching, a living picture of Christ they can imitate, even if they never meet Him any other way at first.

It's possible to turn 'imitate Christ' into a crushing, performance-based burden, constantly measuring yourself against His perfection and feeling perpetually inadequate. That's not the spirit of the New Testament's call. You imitate a Savior who already died for your failures to imitate Him well. First John says plainly, 'if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous' (1 John 2:1). Imitation happens within grace, not instead of it, so the honest gap between His perfection and your progress is covered, not condemning.

There's also a subtler danger worth naming: reducing Christ to a set of moral lessons and missing that He is first a Savior, not merely a model. If imitation becomes the whole message, the cross quietly becomes optional, just one more inspiring example among many rather than the event that actually forgives you and empowers the change it calls for. Keep the order Paul keeps: beloved child first, imitator second (Ephesians 5:1). Reverse that order and imitation collapses into exhausting moralism instead of grateful transformation.

Spend time actually looking at Jesus in the Gospels, not just extracting principles but watching how He treated people, handled pressure, and prayed. Ask the Spirit specifically to grow one trait at a time rather than attempting total transformation overnight. Surround yourself with others pursuing the same imitation, since the New Testament pictures this as a shared, communal journey (Hebrews 10:24-25). And remember that the goal isn't flawless performance; it's a life that increasingly, imperfectly, gratefully, resembles the One who loved you first.