"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship"? Part Two.

In Part One, I talked about the confusion between people who grew up in church and those who did not when hearing "Christian-ese," those catchy phrases churches like to use. Specifically, "Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship."

Before we can use this phrase with any efficacy, I think it's important to define the term "religion."

Like I said, when churches put this on their signs or their twitter bios or their what-have-you's, it probably doesn't convey the message they want it to (at least not to people that aren't Christians, which I generally assume to be their intended audience). Christians typically use this phrase as a paraphrase of "I desire mercy and not sacrifice." Like, "I love God, I don't just do a bunch of traditions in a designated building once a week." Which is good; please don't. 

But the truth is-- although Christ is the basis and the greater meaning behind all the former laws and prophecies-- Christianity is a set of teachings and it does have rituals and actions specific to it. Christianity isn't simply knowing Christ, it is the way in which we are told to follow Him in response to getting to know Him better. And that is the definition of "religion."

And that's why I think it's incorrect to say that Christianity is only relationship and no religion.

Well, maybe not incorrect, but incomplete.

It isn't legalistic to love the Law of the Lord. It isn't wrong for us to think about how to put the Word into action in our lives, even if it's a disciplined reaction and you aren't that excited about it at the time. That is where I get a little afraid of this phrase's implications.

As a response to the accusations of legalism from the world, who say we don't love them because, we tell them they will have to change after we tell them they can come as they are. We can't love God and keep on doing what He hates with reckless abandon.

We shouldn't try to sound like we are these free-loving, only-grace-no-judgement people who "just love Jesus," because that's misleading to people who currently define love as "someone who benefits me and thinks I'm awesome and doesn't try to change me." Do you see the difference? Do you see the problem? 

God made up the laws and rituals of obedience and repentance through sacrifice (religion). He doesn't hate them. I mean, heck, He was a sacrifice. These laws were given as a map to living a life that is pleasing to Him. But we're really timid to say that, to say that there are rules to follow. When Jesus says, "Go and sin no more," we see that there is more to following Christ than just thinking He is really great and believing He has the power to make us feel better.

I've been reading through the Gospels these past few weeks and what keeps catching my mind is the difference between being amazed by Jesus and being changed by Him. Since my earliest readings of the Bible, I've been confused about why Jesus told people not to tell everyone about the miracle He'd just done. My interpretations have ranged from an appearance of humility to "but ugh why??" scribbled in the margins.

My most recent thought is that He was trying to prevent people from coming to see Him for a show rather than for teaching. I say this because when we see those that have been healed still tell people (understandably), literally the entire town and a few surrounding ones are soon crowded around Jesus waiting to be healed or to see someone else healed.

They wanted a spectacle. They weren't looking to understand of Who He was/is. They'd follow Him around as long as He was looking powerful and beneficial, but miracles are not all He came to do. And I think that is why He told people not to tell anyone-- so that His teaching might be the central focus with miracles a whispered side note in confirmation of His authority.

And I think that is the danger of saying that Christianity is relationship only. We're like "Hey, just let me love Jesus, I don't need all that other stuff." But it super doesn't work that way.

Because, Christianity isn't only a religion or only a relationship. It is both. Christianity is a religion because it is the means by which we follow a personal God, and it's a relationship because He is an autonomous Being with His Own thoughts and feelings resulting in the specified way He desires to be followed (as He details throughout the Bible).

He is the Relationship (Jesus the connection) and the relationship is the religion, because it is done according to His commands. That's how we relate to Him, how we worship Him. Relationship and religion can't be separated when it comes to Christianity. The Person and the ways in which the Person wants to be related to are One.

We don't decide the terms of His covenant, He does. We don't get to decide what we do or don't want to believe about Jesus's teachings. It's all or nothing. 

Christianity is a religion, it just isn't an impersonal one.

"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship"? Part One.

"Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship."

A lot of people fault the church for having their own vernacular that doesn't cater to those who are outside it. A lot of church members hear that complaint but don't know how to remedy it. In fact, we often try to redefine the world's conception of our terms without really asking what their original conception is.

I personally think this is one of those cases.

We want people to know that God is a personal God and that there is more to following Him than rules, so we try to pick on the word "religion" right along with them. But I feel like we end up looking like those people that try to jump in on other people's inside jokes, making everyone feel really uncomfortable.

Of course, not everyone has the same connotations. It depends a lot on who they've come in contact with and the people they admire or dislike.

But most people don't define religion the same way the church does. When people who haven't grown up in church say they hate religion, it typically isn't them saying they hate ritualistic actions that aren't backed up by a true spirit of reverence and love for God.

That's the "Christian-ese" definition.

And we should hate heartless rituals because God hates them, too (Isaiah 1:12-15, etc). We should strive to have true motivation in everything that we do, and that comes through personal growth and pursuit of understanding through the Word and prayer. And that is a relationship. 

But I think there's something we all need to accept:

Christianity is also a religion.

You can't have Jesus without His decrees. We can't separate the teachings of the Person from the Person teaching. And that's what we're doing. Or at least what it sounds like we're doing.

Hey, maybe that gives us an opportunity to get into a discussion with the unbeliever who is really confused about the Christian that says they hate religion. That's good, I hope that happens. But it's hard to see the benefit of the saying being plastered on billboards or twitter feeds with no further discussion.

Connotation is important. And their connotation is probably different than ours and maybe it's counterproductive sometimes.

(It's so funny, though, the satisfaction churchgoers seem to get out of confusing the outside world with semantics. Like the "Wait, what?" of an unbeliever echoes internally as a giddy little victory for us. "Look at us, stunning the world with what really goes on inside these doors. Silly misconceptions. I bet you wanna be a Christian now, right?")

It is good for the Church to define our terms when interacting with the world. What do we really mean when we say   insert churchy jargon here  ? I think it's equally important for us to understand what they really mean when they give their opinions on   insert anything here  . We can get so offended sometimes that we don't even realize the disagreement is mainly between what we hear them saying and what they actually mean to say, and vice versa. 

Not that our worldviews don't fundamentally disagree; I'm really just saying we can debate all day about how, for example, faith is either stupid or life-giving, and get nowhere because their definition of faith is "believing without evidence" and ours is "trust based on fulfilled prophecy, recorded eyewitness testimony, historical evidence of dependability, persistence of followers, and personal experience." So, from the outset, we're doomed to disagree.

Define your terms.

So, let's define this particular term: religion... in Part Two.

Remembering Christ After Choosing Sin

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32).

One verse that strikes me every time I think of it is Luke 22:61. Jesus stands before His accusers when Peter, lost in the crowd, denies being His close friend and follower. Immediately, Jesus "turned and looked at Peter." Heartbreak.

We're given no description of the expression on Jesus's face, but that look reminds Paul of what Jesus told him only a few verses earlier. It reminds him of his subsequent promise to never leave Jesus, even in the face of opposition or unpopularity. It reminds him of his inability to keep that promise for even one day.

And he runs out, weeping bitterly.

It is in our nature to run from the wrong that we do, from the ones we have wronged, and especially from those that have the authority to give us the consequences. Peter's consequence was a look from Christ reminding him of their conversation.

We make similar claims. We feel in the moment that we will always hold fast to the One we call Lord. Then the moment changes and what was once only a dark improbability has become the inescapable reality. And it's so much more difficult than we thought it'd be. 

We conjecture that no pain will be too great to cause us to doubt His care, that no disappointment will be too complete to cause us to question His wisdom, or that no hardship will last long enough to wear us down to a point of losing hope. But then it's here and a hundred of your emotions are at the surface and yet nonexistent at the same time. All your previous thoughts seem so foolish and so prideful and so useless, and like maybe this is it, maybe this is what will finally make you walk away or make Him give up on you. Lost in yourself with a whole crowd of people huddled around you, watching your reactions and trying to measure you up against some arbitrary standard.

You give in to despair or boredom or anger. You give up on the fight for holiness. 

And then He looks at you and you remember everything He's ever said to you, everything He's promised you. And there's pity and there's justice and there's hope and there's peace and there's comfort in the light of His face.

In brokenness, you are strengthened. In repentance, you are renewed. Because of He Who looked at you, Who reminded you that you are not on your own, that He has already prayed for you, that He is still praying for you.

He is with you. He is in you. He prepares the way before you and stands guard behind you. He gives life to the weary and the downcast. 

And His is not an arbitrary standard. When He looks at you in your disobedience, He not only knows your sinfulness completely and still holds on to you; He also knows your choices, having faced them Himself, "tempted in every way," yet every time choosing to do what was pure and righteous and good (Hebrews 4:15).

When He looked at Peter, it was not yet from a position of the conquering warrior but the submissive sacrifice, with immense suffering still looming imminently before Him. He knew Peter's denial. He knew Peter's betrayal. And still He put Himself into the violent hands of those who hated Him. 

Peter didn't just need an Example; He needed a substitute. We all do. When we reject God in order to please ourselves, we need one Who rejected Himself in order to please God. It is only in His power, by His prayers, that we can turn around and do differently and see differently. Jesus didn't put His hope in Peter, that he would decide to turn again after thrice choosing disobedience. Jesus put His hope in God, that He would "cause [Peter] to be born again into a living hope" (1 Peter 1:3). Peter's return was assured by the God from and through Whom salvation comes, for "no purpose of [His] can be thwarted" (Job 42:2). 

Peter saw himself finally as the Lord had seen him all along and he "wept bitterly" because of it. But he didn't give himself over to that feeling forever. Jesus had prayed for him, that his "faith would not fail" and that he would "turn again" to "strengthen the brothers."

It was this prayer on his behalf and the knowledge that Jesus was able to look at him and still love him-- with full knowledge of his past and future failings-- that strengthened his faith and encouraged him to stand and continue.

This truth and those prayers stand firm throughout the ages to meet us here today. Because Jesus did conquer death, "He is able also to save forever those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them" (Hebrews 7:25).

There is no power which can take us from His might, no disobedience which can cause Him to reconsider His promise of salvation to us, because "'when we are faithless, He remains faithful' for He cannot deny Himself" (2 Timothy 2:13).

He is just, and He is merciful, and through Christ He is able to be both at once, saving forever those who still mess up despite a great salvation. He has redeemed us. He is making us new.

He will keep us until the day we are taken to His side, where finally "we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is" (1 John 3:2).