I became a Christian at the age of 14, prior to that I would not have described myself as very religious. But afterwards…
I became something of an insufferable little Pharisee to everyone around me. And, eventually, none of my friends wanted anything to do with me anymore. I thought their rejection of me was proof that I was doing what God wanted me to do, running about pointing an accusatory finger at everyone around me and demanding that they repent of their sins or else. I found further piety in my solitude and took comfort in the robe of self-righteousness that I wore. They are rejecting me because I now belong to Christ! No. They were rejecting me because I was a jerk.
I became a Christian primarily because I wanted to be delivered from a particular habit that I was unable to overcome on my own. You can read that story in the About section of this blog. But for many years after I became a Christian I continued to think my standing with God fluctuated based upon what I did or didn’t do. I continued to believe that my efforts played some part in my own redemption. I refused to believe that Christ did 100% of the work on my behalf. And so I became less concerned with what Christ did for me and more concerned with myself – with dogma and my own actions – regular church attendance, obsessing over liturgy, wearing the appropriate attire, scowling at all of the sinners around me, measuring myself by the hours I spent in prayer, and making sure that my pious efforts were outwardly reflected in everything I said or did. In other words, I became religious. I became like the Pharisees. Daily I became more like the men who rejected Christ and less like those who followed him. And daily I became more dead inside, just like the Pharisees. Because religion cannot save. Only Christ can save.
Christ did not command his disciples to spread religion. He commanded them to spread the Gospel. “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” – Mark 16:15
Years ago I had a phone conversation with a wonderful lady who worked for a Catholic Ministry. She found out during this call that I wasn’t Catholic, something she had previously assumed me to be. She then proceeded to ask me, “what do you believe?” So, I told her. I said:
I believe that I am a sinner.
I believe that Jesus is the son of God and that after living a perfect life he willingly gave his life to pay in full the price for my sins. I believe that Christ rose from the dead and is alive today.
I believe that through faith in Christ I now have a relationship with God, and have eternal life, but that I didn’t earn those things, they are freely given gifts.
After pausing for perhaps a couple of seconds, the nice voice on the other end of the phone replied “I believe the same.”
If either of us had kept going we would no doubt have uncovered theological differences that we both possessed. But neither of us did. Because we both believed the gospel. And that was all that ultimately mattered.
There is a fascinating scene that takes place in the final season of The Sopranos (I would say ‘spoiler alert’ but surely 20 years exceeds the statute of limitations on such things). After Tony has been shot by Uncle Junior and is recovering in the hospital an evangelist comes to visit him. The man begins to share the gospel with Tony, and, at first, it seems as if he is having some success. Tony is receptive and listens to what the man has to say. Later, the evangelist notices that Tony has a book about dinosaurs, and immediately he segues into his views on creationism, asserting to Tony that his book about dinosaurs is flawed and that the earth is only a few thousand years old. And with that, Tony dismisses him. Tony didn’t reject the gospel. Tony rejected the theology. Tony didn’t reject the living Christ, he rejected the evangelist’s lifeless religion. The evangelist lost Tony because he disobeyed Christ, he didn’t do what Christ told him to do, he couldn’t follow the simple command to share the gospel, he had to obfuscate the commands of Christ, sprinkle in some of his own theology while he was at it. Because that’s what religion does over time, adds, distorts, obfuscates what was simple and palatable into something that is neither simple nor palatable. A religious person is more concerned with someone else agreeing to every aspect of their theology than they are with that person coming to know Christ as their savior.
There is nothing inherently wrong with religion. There is nothing wrong with regular church/mass attendance, or rigid adherence to dogma. There is nothing wrong with lighting candles or incense or icons or putting on vestments or any other liturgical aspect. Nothing wrong with any of it. But none of it can redeem you. Only Christ can do that. But religion does become inherently wrong when it takes the place of Christ in our lives and our hearts, when the external machinations of church attendance and candle lighting and rote recitation of prayer and the obsession over our own misguided sense of self-righteousness become more important to us than the Christ who died for us. Religion becomes problematic when we place a part of our faith in religion, rather than put all of it in Christ.
It has been said before that Christianity is not a religion but a relationship. If the definition of a religion is a set of practices, observances, and dogma that have been created by man in an effort to bridge the gap between man and the divine, then by that definition, Christianity is most certainly not a religion. For the essence of the Christian faith is that God, in the form of Christ Jesus, did all of the work and that we receive the unwarranted benefits of his work because of his goodness, not ours. Therefore there is nothing we have to do – no set of rituals, no animal sacrifices, no recitation of prayers, no singing of hymns, no observances of specific holy days, no articles of clothing, no lighting of candles – nothing that we do bridges the gap between us and God, it is only Christ Jesus and Jesus alone who does this. He did 100% of the work and is deserving of 100% of the praise and glory.
But this simple concept is difficult for the religious mind to accept, which is why there are so many Christians who refuse to believe it. Who refuse to believe that they don’t play some small part, however insignificant, in their own redemption. What they are actually doing is reserving some of the praise and glory for themselves, rather than allocating all of it to Christ. They have accepted Christ as savior, and they believe in the gospel, but while their right hand is gripping the cross, the left is holding onto religion – holding onto ceremony, holding onto the law, holding onto human institutions, human practices, human traditions.
If you were drowning in the ocean amidst a stormy sea with towering waves and huge gusts and you were thrown a life preserver, would you grip it tightly with both hands, or would you grip it with one hand while still trying to swim and stay afloat with the other? Do you believe that life preserver is your only means of salvation, or do you believe you can do some of the work yourself?
Many of my anarcho-capitalist friends (j/k, I don’t have any friends) view organized religion the same way they view organized government and thus they reject the gospel of Jesus Christ out of some misguided notion that if they were to become a Christian it would mean that they would have to become pious, bureaucratic, dogmatic, rigid in their theology, inflexible in their outlook, close minded, and overly obsessed with ceremony. But that is simply not the case. While you certainly can be religious, and be a Christian, the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that you don’t have to be.
Let Us Reason Together 