Those of us who have been Christians for a while may—imperceptibly, over time—reach the point where we think we’ve heard it all. We’ve heard so many sermons about the woman at the well, the good Samaritan, and the prodigal son that we could preach a three-point sermon on any of them ourselves. Bible passages which were once fresh have, over our lifetime, become familiar and stale.
That’s where I was.
I was in the midst of my “dry season” when my husband, Tony, and I were invited to attend a Cursillo weekend at Church of the Holy Comforter in Sumter. I didn’t know what to expect. I assumed that—as was the case with other retreats I had attended in the past—it would be a time to get away for a spiritual reboot, which would likely include some sort of short-lived “mountaintop experience.” But, as fleeting as those experiences had been in the past, I knew that, over the previous months, my spiritual fire had dimmed, and I had even become a bit cynical. I was ready for another “mountaintop experience.”
I have been told I have a “Type A+” personality. But the need to do things well and get things right was, in large part, driven by an addiction to people-pleasing. Over the years, it caused so much unnecessary stress in my life, and I found myself doing many things not out of joyful service, but out of the compulsion to rise to others’ expectations. And there was another painful side to that “people-pleasing” coin: I had let others’ opinions keep me from doing the thing I knew God was calling me to do. Earlier in my life, as God was opening doors and giving me favor to do the thing I knew He had created me for, I let the opinions of a critical few stop me. Over the years, anger had set in—first with my critics, and then with God.
It wasn’t conscious; it just was.
It was with all of this baggage that I entered my Cursillo weekend. Although I didn’t know what lay ahead, as Tony and I drove to Sumter, I asked God to deal with whatever was in me that needed to be dealt with. I was ready. I needed healing.
The second evening, in our devotional time, one of Cursillo #196’s spiritual leaders, Janet Echols, read from Luke 15—the parable of the prodigal son. Immediately, I began to tune out. After a short time, the summa cum laude student in me thought I’d better pay attention—there may be discussion, and since I hadn’t heard or read it in a while, a refresher might be good. When I tuned back in, Janet was reading, “…now, the older son…”
Ah…the older son. The son who had everything the father owned. The son who had enjoyed the ongoing favor of the father and lived in the presence of the father. I had always thought him to be so ungrateful and blind to all he had. In truth, I had seen him as the real villain of the story because, while the younger son came to recognize his sin and repented, the older son was indignant and self-righteous and never saw his own sin.
And, in that moment, the thought came to me: “Christy, you are that son.” It hit me hard; I felt as David must have felt when he heard the prophet Nathan’s admonishment: “David, you are that man.” (2 Samuel 12:7)
It was true.
I had spent so much of my time and energy in a futile attempt to constantly please others. And when I failed, I blamed God. Like the older brother, I complained to God about how hard I was working for Him, while it seemed so many others, who made no real effort to please Him, got a pass. And like the older brother, I had become indignant and self-righteous and never saw that the real problem was my own sin.
For the first time, I saw my desire to please man more than God as sin. As much as I knew the Bible, and thought all my effort was pleasing to Him, I had been blind to the fact that I had been striving for the opposite of what God tells us to do: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.” (Colossians 3:23)
That was the first thing God dealt with in Sumter that weekend.
Recognizing and confessing that “gateway” sin led to a cascade of recognition and healing of several other sins and painful experiences from my past. In such a sweet and tender way, in the company of God’s people (many of whom I didn’t even know prior to Cursillo), the Lord brought clarity and understanding for some of these, and complete healing for others. Within those 72 eye- and heart-opening hours, the Lord dealt with my sin and renewed my spirit. Only as the weekend progressed did I begin to understand how I had been lifted up in prayer, supported, and loved by so many as part of the Cursillo community.
It has been many weeks now since that Cursillo weekend and, rather than a fleeting “mountaintop” moment, it has brought a permanent change to my life.
I know the Lord doesn’t always move for everyone in this dramatic way during Cursillo. But the love and prayer, the instruction, fellowship, and wise counsel I experienced there are things we all need. If you are ever invited to attend, I encourage you to accept the invitation. Whether you are a life-long Christian who thinks you’ve heard it all, a new Christian who is eagerly seeking to know more of God, or anywhere in between, three days focusing on Him through this extraordinary experience may—as it did for me—lift your spirit, renew your faith, and draw you closer to our loving Father.
By Christy Kohnle, Christ Church, Mt. Pleasant
This article was originally published in the Fall 2025 Jubilate Deo.
