So today I’m feeling a little more curmudgeony than normal (yes, I said curmudgeony and no, that’s not really a word). And I’m feeling inspired by this fantastic post by Karen Swallow Prior over at her.meneutics. (If you aren’t subscribed to it, you’re missing out.) In her post, Prior talks about the worst Christian cliches. Her list includes: “precious,” “come alongside,” the always creepy “love on,” as well as buzzwords like “community,” “relevant,” and “authentic.” It’s an excellent list and definitely worth taking the time to read. If you’re a Christian, it’s a handbook in what not to say. If you’re not a Christian, think of it as an English-Christianese Dictionary.
Now I want to add one of my own Christianese linguistic pet peeves to the list. Admittedly, these sorts of posts can be the writing equivalent to shooting fish in a barrel, so I don’t want to be overly severe. That disclaimer aside, I think the issue is something Christians need to think about more carefully, so here goes: I’ve got this problem with one of the hallmark phrases of younger Christians, and particularly younger evangelicals in campus ministries like the (thankfully) renamed Cru or the rebooted Back to the Bible. The line is “Christianity is not a religion, it’s a relationship.” In fact, one of Back to the Bible’s webpages is www.notreligion.com. It’s a well-intentioned and, from their point of view, completely truthful statement. By it they mean to say “Christianity is about a relationship to Christ, religion, on the other hand, is about doing the right things to earn God’s favor.” In other words, it’s a new way of explaining the classic Christian teaching about divine grace.
Unfortunately, to those outside Christianity, the phrase comes off as dishonest, inaccurate, and manipulative. For the phrase “Christianity isn’t a religion,” to be true, it requires certain presuppositions about the definitions of “Christianity” and “religion.” Namely, it requires that you already define Christianity primarily as a relationship between a personal God and a human being initiated by divine grace. Religion, in contrast, is a system of works one does to gain divine favor. The trouble is that the only people who define those words in those ways are already Christian. So when Christians use that line, it comes off as a rhetorical sleight of hand to a non-Christian. Most people I know go the route of the Oxford English Dictionary or the Merriam Webster dictionary in defining religion. The OED defines it as: “Belief in or acknowledgement of some superhuman power or powers (esp. a god or gods) which is typically manifested in obedience, reverence, and worship; such a belief as part of a system defining a code of living, esp. as a means of achieving spiritual or material improvement.” And by that much more widely-accepted and prominent definition of religion, it’s hard to think of a system of belief that fits it better than Christianity. So when we say “it’s not a religion” we come across as either dishonest or clueless to those who don’t share our quixotic and historically-unique definition of “religion.”
But there’s a second point here regarding the issue of how the line is used: People use this phrase when they’re trying to proselytize to non-Christians. And here I should add that I’m not opposed to proselytization. Honestly, everyone does it to some degree. We all have systems of beliefs that we hold to be true depictions of reality. And because we’re convinced those beliefs are true, we generally also believe that the world would be a better place if other people stopped believing in fantasies and lies and started believing what’s true. So we argue, we persuade, we debate, we discuss. And we do it with the hope that the people listening will come to share our views. So we all proselytize. That’s not the point. The issue is that in proselytizing in that way, evangelicals succeed only in showing how out of touch we really are.
In the first place, it assumes that the pressing question haunting the individual we’re addressing is what they have to do to be right with God. We then assure them they don’t do anything, they just enter a relationship with Jesus and, presto chango, we have our convert. And in some cases, particularly in upper-class, predominantly white midwestern and southern groups, that may be true. But for most non-Christians I’ve known, that question isn’t even remotely on their radar. (Can I get an amen from the non-Christian readers?) Most non-Christians in the USA – or at least most the non-Christians I’ve known – aren’t even sure if there is a god. And if there is, they’re still not likely to be overly concerned with having to do certain things to win his favor. So this is just a false start in beginning a conversation about faith, religion, and Christianity.
But secondly, this line suggests that being religious is somehow bad, undesirable, or even shameful. In some Christian circles, it’s almost trendy to bash “religion.” You show that you’re “in,” that you really get it, by mocking the idea of “religion” and talking about your “personal relationship” with Jesus. And, to me, this seems precisely backwards. Most the time I feel like I have more of a religion than a relationship. I don’t often feel God’s presence in a close and intimate way. I’ve never heard him speak to me audibly or seen him provide English subtitles to a personal message so I can read it. And over the past year especially, I’ve routinely felt quite distant from god. If my Christian identity were premised solely on the felt realities of relationship, I’d have become an atheist (or, more interestingly, a pagan) a long time ago.
Rather, I affirm the teachings and engage in the rituals that have been honored and established by those who went before me within my religious tradition. I partake in the eucharist. I attend, or at least make an effort to attend, church services, even when it’s hard and I don’t feel like it. I pray. And I trust that in the midst of those, something happens within me that changes me and makes me more aware of truths about God and the world he’s made. I don’t see it perfectly, I can’t always pinpoint a time or place where something in me changes or I understand something more clearly. But I can see that over time I have changed and in some ways those changes have brought me closer to wholeness or, better yet, holiness. I am, therefore, unapologetically religious. I find nothing shameful in the term. Rather, I find it healthy, romantic, invigorating, and life-giving.
Besides, most the great human thinkers, artists, and writers have been religious and a good many of them have even been Christian. I find nothing shameful in identifying myself as being religious in the same way that Erasmus, St Augustine, Timothy I, Alfred the Great, Hildegard of Bingen, Handel, Marguerite of Navarre, Francis of Assisi, Desmond Tutu, Joy Davidman, Rosa Parks, and John Newton were religious. Why any Christian would wish to shrink away from that proud history is a mystery to me. Further, I cannot understand why they would also embrace the muddled, fuzzy games of the “linguistically challenged” (or, as we used to call them, the foolish). It makes no sense. “Religion” is a perfectly acceptable term that communicates true content about what Christians believe. Let’s stop the games and try for a little honesty: Christianity is a religion. And that’s OK.
Awesome post, Jake! So glad to hear your extended thoughts on this point. You said it better than I could have, that’s for sure. And I appreciate your honesty that you often feel like you “have more of a religion than a relationship.”
Thank you for this insightful post. I agree that Christianity often doesn’t behave like a relationship since God doesn’t always “feel” close. But He is changing me! As you said, I can look back at my life and see the difference this religion has made.
Wow. Really good insight. I’ve always had a sort of uneasy feeling about that phrase, and this really cleared up some thoughts. Thanks for posting this.
I completely agree that we as Christians should not be ashamed or minimize our for the comfort of unbelievers. And that some of the ways we do that completely confuse or misguide others along the way. We assume way too much of others thought processes and should simply say what we mean and mean what we say…imagine that!
That said…..
“And over the past year especially, I’ve routinely felt quite distant from god.”
This line saddened me…..and made me think that maybe you should change your routine (reference intended). While I agree that your faith shouldn’t be based completely on “feeling” the Pslams are FULL of feeling! Good, bad, mad, glad….God intends for you to have joy from His presence in your life and a craving for it when it is not there. You should be seeking Him not just through your routine, but in little ways He should “speak” to you. Maybe you are so busy with tasks (martha) that you are forgetting to find joy just being in His presence (mary). Leave enough time in your routine to be open to whatever God may present for you to do that day. And He may never bless you with the privilege of why He laid that little seemingly trivial task on your mind/heart to do, but if/when He does…you will see that God is in each day…in the details. “After the earthquake came a fire, but The Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.”
I Kings 19:12
Maybe this is the day for “feeling a little more curmudgeony than normal,” but….. (don’t you love when that conjunction is used before expressing disagreement?) I want to nitpick with your passing remark “campus ministries like the (thankfully) renamed Cru.” Cru is a stupid name. The name change is another triumph for political correctness. In 2000 Wheaton College changed its mascot from Crusaders to –– hold your breath –– Thunder. Another stupid name. I think many Christians have capitulated to cultural pressure and uncritically digested the revisionist account of the crusades. Although I have not read it yet, I am intrigued by Rodney Stark’s book, “God’s Battalions: The Case for the Crusades,” in which “he takes on the long-held view that the Crusades were the first round of European colonialism, conducted for land, loot, and converts by barbarian Christians who victimized the cultivated Muslims. To the contrary, Stark argues that the Crusades were the first military response to unwarranted Muslim terrorist aggression. Stark reviews the history of the seven major Crusades from 1095 to 1291, demonstrating that the Crusades were precipitated by Islamic provocations, centuries of bloody attempts to colonize the West, and sudden attacks on Christian pilgrims and holy places. Although the Crusades were initiated by a plea from the pope, Stark argues that this had nothing to do with any elaborate design of the Christian world to convert all Muslims to Christianity by force of arms.”
To your main point, I agree that the expression “Christianity isn’t a religion” needs to be examined more closely. And like you, “most of the time I feel like I have more of a religion than a relationship.” I sense, however, that you’ve created a false dichotomy here: Christianity is a religion AND a relationship. We need the religion precisely when we don’t feel the intimacy of the relationship with Christ. I love Kierkegaard’s description of Christianity as an “existence-communication” insofar as it’s primarily about a way of life, which includes beliefs and practices (commonly known as religion), and a message (the Gospel).
Interesting post that reveals how confused the world and religion has become. Today, an individual does not define a Christian as a follower of Christ (relationship), but a follower of a sect, cult, code of conduct, or organization. Thus, if one does not understand the “Truth” and the distinction between religion and relationship (faith in Christ); then true faith will and does not exist. All religions are a product of man seeking a higher truth, while true faith is the revelation that the higher power is seeking a loving relationship with us “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom 5:8 NASB)
OK, few follow up comments:
I’m not saying that there is no relational component to Christian faith. The title and that line in the piece are more rhetorical cheek than a complete statement of my belief in the matter.
Mindy – Thanks for sharing your thoughts about this dry period for me. I can’t get into all of it in a blog comment section, but the short answer is that there’s a lot of factors contributing to that feeling right now, some of which are bad, some of which are more neutral and simply a normal part of the Christian life. But I am doing something about it: Joie and I are moving away from the Twin Cities and to Lincoln. And that will help a ton, we both hope.
Christopher – I own “God’s Battalions” and read about half of it before I put it down and couldn’t finish it. As an historian, I find Stark rather frustrating because he’s not really an historian – at least not in the sense that I was taught to define one during my time studying history at Nebraska. Stark seems to begin a task already knowing what his conclusion will be and then studies the history to support his theoretical conclusion. And, shockingly, it always back up his beliefs. It’s historical eisogesis and I just have very little time for it. Besides, even granting his argument about the Muslims being the ones who started the crusades (and really, doesn’t such an argument reduce this to a playground argument between a five-year-old Muslim and a five-year-old Christian both whining that “he started it!”), I don’t see how that’s terribly relevant. Regardless of who started the Crusades, it is historical fact that thousands of people claiming to be followers of Jesus slaughtered thousands of other people, many of whom were innocent civilians. And I don’t especially care that the Muslims did the same thing. I’m not accountable for what the Muslims did or did not do. But as a Christian and a member of the same church universal that many of the Crusaders belong to, I am on some level accountable for what they did. And the Crusaders did a lot of evil things in the Middle East. So I’m thrilled when I see Christian institutions move away from that name – whether it’s Campus Crusade, Wheaton, or any other institution. Even if Stark’s argument is right, the Crusades are still not something we should glory in or commemorate by naming modern institutions for them. (Sorry if that’s harsh, I just really really disliked the Stark book and have really strong feelings on this issue.)
[...] Jake Meador stands athwart history, or at least modern evangelical trends, claiming that Christianity is, in fact, a religion, not a ‘relationship’. [...]
“We’re cannibals.
We watch our brothers fall.
We eat our own, the bones and all.”
…
Why title your post “It’s not a relationship” if you aren’t really saying there is no relational component to the Christian faith? How does that accomplish “rhetorical cheek” rather than provide a statement of your belief on the matter? Isn’t that in itself dishonest, inaccurate, and manipulative to your average reader?
I agree with the notion in one of the comments expressing that you create a false dichotomy. Obviously there are elements of religion and relationship in Christianity. Depending how they are defined and practiced, they can be beneficial or detrimental. The “Christian” who goes through the motions, practices religion, takes the Eucharist, etc. etc. but never finds or engages in relationship, never truly finds God. That individual has substituted tradition, ritual, and routine for love and grace. That person has substituted his own salvation for that of God’s.
You admit that Christians who use the (albeit cliche) phrase “it’s not a religion, it’s a relationship” are well-intentioned, and from their view, express a completely true statement. So why is your view superior, or more correct? Maybe you’ve got it wrong. Maybe you’ve got the religion part down pat, but you’re missing the relationship.
You state Christians who use this concept to proselytize, use it based on several presuppositions about definitions of “Christianity” and “religion”. Perhaps you should consider the underlying presuppositions of your own argument, i.e. that those outside Christianity are so stupid they can’t understand the phrase. You assume those who use the phrase just throw it around and never bother to explain it. You also assume those outside Christianity view the phrase as dishonest, inaccurate, and manipulative. You’re sure making a lot of assumptions about a lot of people.
Lastly, the idea of Christianity being a relationship is nothing new. It’s not some fresh concept, misguided buzzword, or ignorant cliche the young evangelicals in ineptly named groups like Crusade 2.0 came up with today.
But seriously, go back to the 19th Century (and farther–circa the first Easter). Tolstoy, who battled legalism (you might use the word “religion”) all his life, knew the weakness of religion based solely on externals. Tolstoy notes that all religious systems tend to promote external rules, or moralism. Conversely, Jesus refused to define a set of rules his followers could fulfill with satisfaction. Tolstoy contrasted Jesus’ approach with ALL others:
“The test of observance of external religious teachings is whether or not our conduct conforms with their decrees. Such conformity is indeed possible. The test of observance of Christ’s teachings is our consciousness of our failure to attain an ideal perfection. The decree to which we draw near this perfection cannot be seen; all we can see is the extent of our deviation. A man who professes an external law is like someone standing in the light of a lantern fixed to post. It is light all round him, but there is nowhere further for him to walk. A man who professes the teaching of Christ is like a man carrying a lantern before him on a long, or not so long pole: the light is in front of him, always lighting up fresh ground and always encouraging him to walk further.”
Sure, Christianity is a “belief in or acknowledgement of YAHWEH, which is typically manifested in obedience, reverence, and worship”. But the “system defining a code of living” is surely not the means we achieve spiritual improvement–whatever that is. That’s old covenant. That’s legalism. That’s not grace. That’s not relationship. That’s curtain up and un-torn.
Liz – Thanks for stopping by and commenting.
As far as the title of the post goes… yes, it’s an overstatement. My only defense was that it was meant a) mostly in jest and b) as a way of making a rhetorical point. The statement, “it’s not a relationship, it’s a religion” is no more ridiculous or overstated than “it’s not a religion, it’s a relationship.”
Speaking only for myself, I would prefer to limit the terms used to describe the nature of evangelical Christianity to “personal” rather than “personal relationship.” For me “relationship” suggests that you should have this regular, powerful, interactive relationship with the Almighty and because that wasn’t – and has never been – my experience, I assumed something was seriously wrong with my Christian life for many years. And it had some really devastating consequences for me. It was only when I realized that lots of healthy people I respected had the same experience that I began to suspect I wasn’t so abnormally fouled up.
There is something intrinsically personal about an evangelical understanding of the faith which is quite distinct from Orthodoxy or Catholicism and I do want to highlight that. One can follow ritual without a great deal of attention toward the heart and still be a “good Catholic” according to the letter of the law. Obviously I’d say a mindless adherent to ritual is not a “good” Catholic but based on their own system for judging things, it’s hard to identify within their system a way of dismissing that person as a “bad Catholic.” (And here’s where I desperately hope I don’t have any Catholics reading this b/c I’ll get yelled at for that statement.) For evangelicalism, it is such a personal thing – down to the way we talk about our conversion (usually on a defined date), private religious experience, and even the idea of doing private, personal devotions. Those are all very evangelical ideas. So in that sense, evangelicalism is a very personal faith and I want to honor that. Indeed, that point is one of the main reasons I’m evangelical.
That said, I do think the “it’s not a religion, it’s a relationship” line confuses a lot of people and does a lot of harm, hence my opposition to it.
One other point, and this is a whole ‘nother post, but it’s a key point lurking behind this entire discussion: It’s not your intent, but I think when you liken the moral implications of the Christian faith to “legalism, Old Covenant” religion you’re doing two really dangerous things: a) Old Covenant religion was not at all legalistic. It was grace-driven just as much as the New Covenant. Christ didn’t come to inaugurate salvation by grace, but to clarify and fulfill the already-understood idea of salvation by grace. It’s a cliche, but read some N.T. Wright on this point because it’s really key to understanding how the two testaments relate to one another. Second point, if any attempt to identify “Christianity” with the moral implication of Christian faith is dismissed as “legalism” (as it so often is) then Christian ethics are doomed. Which means a Christian theory of politics is doomed. A Christian theory of the arts is doomed. A Christian theory of economics is doomed. If any attempt to say “To be a Christian you ought to _________” is going to be shouted down, then the church is in serious trouble.
Obviously we have to understand the “ought” there rightly. The point isn’t that if I do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before God I will therefore make myself acceptable to God. That said, I do think that if you are a baptized, confessing Christian who does not do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God, there’s reason to question that confession and there’s a serious need to read Hebrews 10 and reflect upon it at some length.
I think the best way to understand the connection between a Gospel of grace and Christian ethics is from Oliver O’Donovan, an Anglican theologian: He argues that the Gospel is the proclamation that the Kingdom of God is at hand. Which means two things: a) It answers the question of how one enters that kingdom: by grace. 2) It answers the question of what it means to be a citizen of that kingdom: To live a certain kind of life. It’s not legalism, it’s Christian ethics. And as long as it doesn’t become a theory for making ourselves acceptable to God – and I don’t know of any Christian ethicists who have made it that – then I think we’re in the clear.