Many people think that being a Christian is just about what happens inside your head or during a quiet moment in a church pew. You hear the sermon, you agree with the points, and you go home. But there is a nagging problem that follows us out the door: why does our behavior often fail to match our beliefs? We claim to be new people, yet we often carry the same old grudges and selfish habits. John Bunyan, the man who wrote The Pilgrim’s Progress, knew this struggle well. He spent years in a damp jail cell thinking about what it means to follow Jesus in the real world. His book, Christian Behavior, is a direct, no-nonsense guide to making sure your faith isn’t just a “painted fire” that provides no warmth.

As a pastor who holds to the Westminster Standards, I find Bunyan’s focus refreshing. He does not stop at the “doctrine of faith,” but immediately moves to the “beauty and excellency” of good works. He wrote this treatise in the prime of his life, shortly after his release from prison, under the constant threat of being thrown back into a cell. He knew that the only thing that would prove the power of the gospel to a hostile government and a skeptical neighbor was the transformed lives of the believers.

Faith Is the Sap, Holiness Is the Fruit

Bunyan is clear about where good works come from. They do not earn your salvation, but they must flow from it. He argues that a “corrupt tree” cannot bring forth good fruit. Every man by nature is an evil tree, and it is only through faith that a man is made good. Faith is a principle of life that moves a soul toward heaven. He uses a striking metaphor to explain how this change works. Faith is like perfume that falls on stinking leather; it doesn’t just sit on top but turns the very smell of the leather into the scent of the perfume.

This is a vital distinction for the laity to understand. We often try to “do better” to feel like real Christians. Bunyan says it works the other way around. Once faith is planted in the heart, it naturally inclines the soul toward holiness. If there is no motion, there is no life. If a person claims to have faith but has no desire to be holy, they are essentially claiming that a living thing can be perfectly still.

“Faith, when it is wrought in the heart, is like leaven hid in the meal, or like perfume that lighteth upon stinking leather, turning the smell of the leather into the savour of the perfume; faith being then planted in the heart, and having its natural inclination to holiness.”

The World Judges Your God by Your Actions

One of the most surprising and challenging takeaways from Bunyan is his view on “justification.” In our Reformed circles, we rightly emphasize that we are justified by grace through faith alone. But Bunyan adds a second layer that we often forget: while we are justified before God by faith, we are justified before men by our works. Your neighbor does not have an X-ray to see your heart or your standing in heaven. They judge the “grace of God” based on how you treat them.

If a believer is loose in their life, they cast “aspersions” on the doctrine of grace. The enemies of the gospel love to say that preaching “salvation by grace” leads to “looseness of life.” Bunyan argues that a life of holiness “justifies that grace before the world.” It proves that the gospel actually works. When we stand in our proper “rank and station” and do our duties, we are like flowers in a garden that honor both the garden and the gardener who planted them.

“for though we are justified freely by grace through Christ before God; yet we are justified before men by our works: nay, a life of holiness flowing from faith in us that are saved by grace, it doth justify that grace before the world, that justifies us before God.”

The Real Test Happens in the Living Room

Bunyan spends a massive portion of this book on what he calls “relative duties.” This is where the rubber meets the road. He goes person by person through the household: masters, wives, husbands, parents, children, and servants. He is remarkably practical and convicting here. He warns that some people are like saints when they are out in the world but act like devils the moment they step through their own front door. He calls this “open profession” a “best cloak” that people wear abroad but make little use of at home.

For husbands, Bunyan says your marriage should be a daily sermon to your wife about how Christ treats the church. For masters, he warns against being “greedy” and “overcharging” your servants with too much work. If you are a “professor” of religion but your servants or children find you to be a tyrant, Bunyan says your religion “stinks.” Our domestic behavior is the truest reflection of our hearts because that is where we are most unobserved and most ourselves.

“Open profession is like a man’s best cloak, the which is worn by him when he walketh abroad, and with many is made but little use of at home. But now what a man is at home, that he is indeed.”

Beware the Trap of Being a Painted Flower

Bunyan concludes with a sharp warning against “painted Christianity.” This is a religion of words without deeds. He identifies three specific sins that “spoil both Christian brotherhood and civil neighbourhood”: covetousness, pride, and uncleanness. He is especially hard on “prattlers”—those who talk a great deal about religion and can argue about theology but do nothing that shows love to the poor or self-denial in their own lives.

Pride, he says, is the “ringleader of the seven abominations.” It shows up in how we slight the poor or choose friends based on their status rather than their grace. He calls these people “painted flowers” which have no smell and “painted trees” which have no fruit. In the end, he warns that a “foolish virgin” who thinks she is happy with her empty lamp will find herself eternally disappointed when the time of grace is over.

“Wherefore take heed of being painted fire, wherein is no warmth; and painted flowers, which retain no smell; and of being painted trees, whereon is no fruit. ‘Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift, is like clouds and wind without rain.'”

You should read Christian Behavior because it will force you to stop hiding behind your theological labels. It is a book that “dives into the most subtle of all secret repositories, the human heart.” Bunyan does not let you stay in the clouds of abstract theory; he walks you into your kitchen, your shop, and your neighbor’s yard. He reminds us that the “dresser of our souls” is the “wisest husbandman,” and He expects to find a crop on His land. Reading this will help you see where your life is “withered” and how the “sap” of grace is the only thing that can make you green again. It is a call to stop talking about the light and start shining.