I’ve been reading a book recently that, honestly, has been rather irritating. It presents theological ‘itches’, per se, but the ‘scratches’ it provides as solutions just barely touch the edges of those itches, such that the ‘itches’ are unfortunately worse than before. Because the ‘scratch’ doesn’t hit the main ‘itch’—but only the edges—it renders the itch even itchier. Ya know? (Lol at this analogy). Now, I don’t mean to come down hard on the author—I’m sure he has good intentions—but one explanation he gave particularly encapsulates what I believe is painfully true for a majority of modern day Christianity.
To establish context, he tells disappointing stories of people who left the faith and why they did so. However, in recounting the disappointment, he interestingly presupposes upon multiple ideas that are fundamentally contrary to the primary substance of Christianity. Meaning, he implicates reasons of secondary importance (joy, rational, ethics) about why Christianity is ultimately worth following, over the primary ones (Jesus is who he says he is). That might sound too picky or cerebral—but check out what I mean. How it plays out practically is huge.
Here’s the text:
Chloe was raised in a strict Christian home. She obeyed all the Christian rules—no drinking, no smoking, no swearing, and, of course, no naughty sex with her boyfriend. Once out of her parents’ home, she tried checking off the list of dos and don’ts during early adulthood. She decided to walk away once she realized religion couldn’t bring her joy or peace, fulfillment or contentment.
Michael was a classmate from high school who seemed adroit in Christian apologetics. If a skeptical student attacked Christianity, he was the first to turn them back with carefully rehearsed arguments. When I ran into him in a grocery store checkout line years later, he told me he doesn’t ascribe to any religious tradition. His college religion professor spun his spiritual logic around with counterarguments. Because he saw Christianity as a series of rational arguments, the religion of his adolescence slipped like sand between his fingers.
And then there’s Michelle, who began attending church after she had children. Michelle longed for her children to acquire a strong ethical framework, and the local Christian congregation seemed the most commonsense place for such things. Three years later, she watched the church build expensive buildings while much of the community around it crumbled in poverty. I thought Christianity was supposed to make you a good person, she thought as she left the church for the final time.1
So maybe while you were reading, you picked up what I was putting down. Maybe you sensed a feeling of “well… that’s good and all… but it sounds a little… off…”. And if not, that’s fine too, just let me clarify:
Per Chloe: You shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of getting joy, peace, contentment, or satisfaction—if that’s what you want, then… go to a carnival. And like Chloe, why do we think that dry-rule keeping is the formula for happiness? Sure, Christianity does bring peace, joy, contentment, and satisfaction—the fullest and truest of all good things; but it also brings suffering, pain, and trial. If Jesus’ life was marked by suffering, insult, persecution, and pain, why do we assume ours won’t be—especially if he tells us we will suffer? (Jn 16:33). Ultimately, if your Christianity is built on the sand of positive vibes, sentiment, and feeling, then what do you do when the waves of reality come crashing down on your shore? Just smile anyway? White-knuckle a positive ‘Christian’ appearance until your face turns blue behind your plastic mask of Sunday-best deception? I would give up too, and maybe that’s what describes the Chloes of Christianity—it doesn’t bring as much joy as you had hoped. So like a junkie, might as well go look for the next hit, whether it’s spirituality or not.
Per Michael: Furthermore, you shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of finding a bulletproof worldview whose rationale you can fully understand and depend on at all times. Yes, Christianity is incredibly rational. Even so, the times where human rationale can’t grasp God’s rationale is, in fact, a rational angle of Christianity, since God is higher and better than us. However, if Christianity is primarily logic to you, then what happens when the professor presents a counterargument about minor Bible doctrine or history? Like a Jenga set, your whole Christianity will come crumbing down because of one wooden piece that seemingly supported the rest. Additionally, if your Christianity is about your degree of logic comprehension, then it might as well be a matter of GPA—and lucky for you, you happened to be on the favorable end of the bell curve. What of those who aren’t as smart? Despair? And what of those who are? Pride? Logic as the primary substance of Christianity fundamentally results in a busted morality. Nevertheless, while Christianity may be the most superior explanation for the world, it never primarily appeals to logic in the Bible—it centrally appeals to Jesus. And if he rose from the dead, then he is who he said he is—LORD—who can be trusted even when we can’t depend on logic. In other words, we can be at peace with what we can’t/don’t know (lofty arguments) because of what we can/do know (Christ raised from the dead). If Jesus is Lord, then we can trust him.
Per Michelle: Finally, you shouldn’t go to Christianity for the primary reason of finding ethics. Sure, Christianity is inherently ethical because it models after a God who presented himself concretely in Christ as completely holy, loving, and just. However, so many people approach Christianity as a means to the ends of ethics. They need stability and morality in their life or the life of their kids. The unspoken motto pervades American culture: “might as well add the ingredient of religion to the mix of good academics, good friends, and good opportunities, and that will set me or my child on the right course for a successful and stable life”. Jesus didn’t come to be the means of anything other the end of Himself. Not to be harsh, but don’t you think it would tick Jesus off if you did the ‘spiritual’ thing of recruiting him as your apprentice to help you get what you really want in life? The highest of our affections and loves should be Jesus—not a stable or successful life. Idolatry is one thing, but asking God to help you more fervently worship your idols is another.
In conclusion, you shouldn’t go to Christianity primarily for joy, rationale, or ethics. Sure, those things are there; but they are there on their own terms. That’s because Christianity does not exalt those things at its center—joy, rationale, ethics, etc. They are not of first importance. They are secondary. They are not the roots; they are the stems, leaves, and fruits. Christianity exalts Jesus as first importance—the foundation, the cornerstone, the roots. Therefore, going to Christianity primarily for joy, rationale, and ethics is like grabbing only for the stems, leaves, and fruit. Ultimately, it will turn out to be disappointing, because without the roots, those stems, leaves, and fruits will wither up in a week’s time, proving useless. But if you go for the roots and abide in Jesus, you’ll reap the stem, leaves, and fruit as well. Similarly, if you primarily go to Christianity for joy, rational, and ethics and not Jesus, you’ll get neither. But if you primarily go to Christianity for Jesus, you’ll get both and an abundance.
Go to Christianity primarily because of Christ. Because he rose from the dead, and truly is who he says he is. Don’t go for joy, rational, or ethics. Don’t mistake the secondary things for the primary thing. Go for Jesus—and find the rest in abundance.
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Footnotes:
1. Merritt, Jonathan. Jesus Is Better Than You Imagined, p. 224-225.
