Rhea Graham is not your average content creator. With a powerful physique and a penchant for heavy lifting, she looks every inch the fitness influencer. Yet her page isn’t quite what you’d expect from someone who bench presses 55 kilos “for bants”. Amid the gym vlogs and the modelling shoots, Graham uses her platform primarily to talk about her Christian faith. “Both my faith in the Lord and my health and wellness are formed by discipline,” she writes, accompanying a video montage of endless perfect pull-ups. “They require both discipline and grace.”
Graham, a 25-year-old Londoner, is far from alone. TikTok and Instagram are now bulging with Christian “fitfluencers”, not least Graham’s friend @veryvalerie, who mixes “thicker thigh supersets” with reels about the “grace of the Lord”. We’re also seeing a “Gym Bro Revival” on Christian blogs and forums, something even non-believers are noticing. “Why does fitness culture skew so HEAVILY Christian?” laments one Reddit thread.
No less striking, specifically Christian fitness spaces are on the rise. CrossFit, for instance, has a subsidiary called Faith RXD, which boasts chapters across the world and integrates workouts with Bible study. The Station Gym in Sheffield features a community room where Christians can hold prayer meetings. Then there’s Fountains Church in Bradford: famous for its regular wrestling events, in which the takedowns function as a metaphor for a believer’s inner fight.
For Graham, the links between faith and fitness are watertight, with the minister and personal trainer describing herself as a “sister in Christ who navigates fitness from a Christ-centred perspective”. Yet the relationship between the two is complex. For most of Christian history, the faithful were taught to de-prioritise the flesh, favouring spiritual might over physical prowess. And while more recent Protestants have placed sportiness near Godliness, the rise of Christian gymgoers remains a peculiarly 21st-century story — one speaking to the distinctive rhythms of a life lived between reps.
Christianity and fitness might seem like an awkward pairing. While gym culture is notoriously image-focused, bleeding all too easily into a fixation on the body beautiful, Christians try to steer clear of vanity and bodily obsession.
Graham concedes that many older believers shy away from fitness, dismissing the spiritual importance of physical discipline. That said, there is a striking shift among younger generations. Many Gen Z Christians of her acquaintance are cultivating a passion for movement, and talking openly about God between sets.
Lennox also believes that, in some cases, gyms may fulfil needs that churches don’t. Yeah. Going to the gym might actually provide you with something desirable.
Having followed the first 3 links I see that all were about black / coloured people. I am only a cultural Christian but it is good to see more active Christians out there and disappointing that the white Brits are currently too soft, lifeless and soulless to be heavily involved in the search for Truth.
Be the change you want to see, Rob!
Why is not wanting to waste your Sunday in a church (or gym) being soft?
Maybe we’re looking for the Truth in a different place to you.
1 Timothy 4:7-10
[7] Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; [8] for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. [9] The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance. [10] For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.
St Paul, an observer of Olympic Games knew the value of physical workouts in order underline the greater value of spiritual fitness not just for eternity but for time. So keep on lifting!
Being stuck in a room full of narcissistic gym freaks and pushy God botherers sounds like my idea of hell! Give me a boozer and a fry up any day of the week
Well Billy, there are boozers and fry-up franchises galore, but remember, hell is just around the corner. The choice of the narrow gate and the narrow way speak to me of a certain degree of discipline. Or at least, that’s the view of this unapologetic God-botherer.
Its a gamble we all take. You’re hoping that by living a less fun life now you’ll be rewarded for it after you die. I’m living life well now in the belief that this is it, there is nothing to follow.
Ultimately neither of us know either way
Boozers and fry-up franchises there are a-plenty Billy, but hell is always just around the corner. It strikes me that the choice of the narrow gate and the narrow way demand a degree of discipline. But that’s just the view of this unapologetic God-botherer.
My response to the article was, much like yours, that the real issue is being disciplined in an increasingly ill-disciplined world. But if self-control is restricted to (or primarily found in) the gym, that by itself isn’t a recipe for success. I hope this is a brand of Christianity that spills over into other areas of life.
Anyone wishing to combine fitness with Christianity should consider taking up bell ringing. You get a physical (and mental) workout in church.
Muscular Christianity first developed in the Victorian era in the public (I.e. fee-paying private) schools in Britain. Its main focus was the development of team sports, in order to give teenage boys an outlet so that they didn’t fall into “vices”. The main concern was masturbation, which was understood to be a source of “enfeeblement”.
It developed before that. Vicars travelled across their parishes on horseback, hunted and played cricket.
Erm…in my opinion, muscular Christianity is not about body building.
I have no quarrel with the faithful but the gym is NOT a church. It is a personal sanctuary where one goes to maintain health, accrue the psychological benefits that are part of a good workout, and to become one with the metal. For me, it is a decidedly selfish pursuit. It’s not a singles club, it’s not a social setting, and it’s not group therapy.
It is bad enough to be surrounded by people more interested in their smartphones – and clogging up the premises with their incessant scrolling and swiping – than in training. I don’t see how communal workouts with “deeper conversations” are better. There is nothing wrong with being in shape but I think this makes of something than is actually there.
Good point. It’s odd to see so many people with their eyes glued to their smartphone between sets. Many years ago I realized that I do my best thinking in the gym, so I always carry a book or a notepad or both with me and leave my smartphone in my locker.
Sometimes nothing much comes out of it, but it is surprising how often knotty work problems unknot themselves as I am doing bench presses in the gym or laps in the pool. One idea I had when I was mindlessly swimming evolved into a patent.
I can see how some people might get religious inspiration in those muscular moments, but my inspirations have been strictly secular. I do more quality work working out now than I do at my desk. When a problem comes up that I can’t solve, I head to the gym.
I found this rather interesting as a Christian who goes to the gym but who is at the age of 80 rather at the opposite end of the age spectrum. I praise the Lord for giving me faith only 4 years ago, just a few months before the discovery of a brain tumour. That was good because it saved me from doom and gloom about it. Unfortunately, a series of medications made me nauseous and lacking in appetite such that I lost 16kg of mostly muscle (that’s about 2 1/2 stone). Now that I have an appetite, I am trying to regain lost muscle. As Christians, we have an obligation to look after God’s creation – and that includes ourselves, mentally and physically as well as spiritually.
Good stuff. The forum or way to faith can come in many forms. Why not find it and health in combination. Idolatry of any kind, when taken to an extreme demands self correction, so I don’t buy the flesh argument. That applies to anything where our pride overtakes our faith.
Unapologetically, a Believer who wishes he had more discipline in the gym. I love that these are young people finding faith early in their lives. My biggest regret is wasting time thinking I was the smartest tool in the shed and all the outcomes were of my control. Happier now putting my faith in God through daily positivity and better choices. I think it makes me stronger (though workout improvement still needed).
Thanks for an interesting article.
This muscle building for vanity is not much use. If one one wants to train the mind and the body I suggest martial arts which will give one a high strength to weight ratio, power to weight ratio, balance, quick reflexes, agility and grace.
For example
BEST EVER of Song-Li – Kung Fu – Wu Shu
“Bāguázhǎng” and amazing Kung-fu techniques!【Song-Li】With various subtitles.
at 17mins
If one is attacked, specially by those with weapons and/or outnumbered , the skills of Song Li will be far more useful than bulging biceps.
or one could try Russian Martial Arts
Systema: How to defend against a punch?
Building muscle for the sake of bulk symbolises much of the materialism of the West, quanity over quality; vanity over usefulness, bulk over grace.
A friend once said six members of the Oxford Boat Race team became bishops.
Bishop Shepherd played cricket for England
David Sheppard – Wikipedia
Can anyone name a better example of muscular Christianity than Reverend Hardy VC, DSO, MC ?
Theodore Hardy – Wikipedia
Seems like the writer might be onto something here.
I can well remember attending religious services as a child, and although i didn’t necessarily think in those terms at the time, looking back the thing that strikes me is the performative element.
This applies principally to the “celebrants” of course, but amongst the congregation there was always a distinct element of “look at me, how holy i am”. Holier than thou, indeed.
In the absence of attending overt religious services then, attending a gym most likely fulfils the same needs and yes – desires – as churchgoing. Instead of dressing up in one’s “Sunday best”, one dresses primarily to show off a honed form. The desire is the same: attending church was one way of meeting a suitable mate back in the day, or at least connecting with like-minded people, aka socialising.
As for spirituality… it’s becoming a term that’s increasingly used in an equally performative way – a way of signalling that you’re a “whole” kind of person, in touch with your inner self. I’m more inclined to understand it as an absence of self; or rather, a merging of self with the world outside, in as full a sense as possible.
Neither those attending gyms or those attending church are doing that. By concentrating on their inner self, including how it’s reflected to others via a pseudo-beatific countenance or honed physique, they’re essentially squandering any chance of simply being in the world. A walk in the countryside, actually looking at the natural world, is more spiritual than either of those activities; looking both at the intricate forms of living things and also moving towards new horizons, rather than within the confines of a church/gym.
I wish the author well with her forthcoming publication. I hope within it, she has some cognisance of what spirituality actually means.
An obvious argument is that “A walk in the countryside, actually looking at the natural world, is more spiritual than either” gym-ing or church-ing.
But in practice – as has been often pointed out – those who have had their eyes on the spiritual world, i.e. beyond the natural one of trees and flesh, have made far more positive impact on the here-and-now; Pierre de Coubertain being an example noted in the article above. Both the Olympics and the YMCA have their roots in the “muscular Christianity” referrenced by Ms. Millar.
I’d politely suggest that what we experience as spirituality is very much concerned with how we’re part of the natural world.
It’s a conceit to imagine there’s something which exists external to it, or beyond it; indeed, i’d go so far as to argue that it’s a form of self-deception. That’s not to say our human senses are able to detect all there is to detect, in fact, we know we can’t. But equally, and by definition, what isn’t available to us is therefore just a product of our imaginations, combined with a heavy dose of wishful thinking.
I don’t dispute that the values which form the Christian heritage have impact and historical resonance, but i’d add that such values are absolutely not dependent on having been preached a couple of millennia ago; indeed, they existed before that and will continue to do so as long as humans need to live together. Therefore, quoting historical sources of value, and those who quote the bible, are simply repeating what human beings – not anything or anyone else – have considered worthwhile.
I’m disappointed by this glib and uncharitable reading of other people’s supposed motives. To look back at childhood church experiences and presume to know — and worse, to be qualified to judge — the thoughts, motives, and spirituality of otherwise unfamiliar adults seems to require a shocking amount of arrogance. When someone is immersed in an experience — a moment of transcendence at church, a breakthrough at the gym, an unexpected vista on a walk — they are beautiful and whole, even if only for a few minutes. Judging the hearts of others is a tricky business; best avoided.