Crucifying Religion

There’s this story in John about a man named Nicodemus. He was a Pharisee, an expert of religion. He’d mastered the art of beautiful prayer on sunny street corners where everyone could listen. His garments were a testament to his morality. He kept every holy day with fiery precision. Intellect? Check. Respect? Check. Leadership? Check. But inside, he was lost. So one night, veiled in the privacy of darkness, Nicodemus turned to one of Religion’s worst critics: Jesus of Nazareth. He knew that Jesus thought he was twisted and corrupt. But Jesus had something that he didn’t. Perhaps talking to him would help Nicodemus reach the next level in this wildly complex game. Or perhaps he would just be attacked.

As the two men entered conversation, it seemed as if Jesus still had redemption for Nicodemus. “You must be born again.” Jesus said. It was so confusing to Nicodemus… Born again? What did that even mean? He’d spent 50 years meticulously building up a plethora of religious knowledge. Now, Jesus was saying none of that mattered. Was he just supposed to forget everything that he knew and become a child again? 

Hi, my name is Kate and I’ve spent the last 19 years building up a plethora of religious knowledge. Now, Jesus is saying none of that matters. That he didn’t come to establish a building filled with nice, put together people. That he didn’t come to spread a set of rituals. That he came to take the penalty for my rebellion, my self righteousness, my sin. He came to establish a relationship with his people. So what now, God? Am I just supposed to forget everything I know and become a child again?

Galatians 5:24-25 Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there. Since we are living by the Spirit, let us follow the Spirit’s leading in every part of our lives.

As God sanctifies me, he is painfully uprooting my sin and nailing it to the cross. Lately, a lot of that sin has had to do with my underlying ideas about what religion should be. So yes, God is crucifying my religion. But as it dies, new life will start to spring up out of the decay. Slowly, what should be dead will die, and what should be alive will grow to take its place. And only then will my religion be redefined. 

Here are some things God has been uprooting from my religion lately: 

Shame and & Judging Others

1 Timothy 1:15 “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.” 

This verse is written by Paul. THE Paul. The one who wrote the most books of the bible. Also the worst of sinners. Like, he used to organise the genocide of thousands of Christians for clout. But once he found the truth, God used him to be one of the main players in starting the Church. 

Flash forward 2000 years and for some reason I have this idea in my head that Christians are supposed to be without sin. When a leader turns out to be a real human with real struggles, it shakes my world. When I see brokenness in a friend, I immediately and subconsciously look down on them. I mean, I’m doing pretty well. At least I don’t struggle with that. When I turn out to be sinful, I am filled with shame. I have to cover it up, so they know that God is still good. As if God was too small to work through my brokenness. 

And suddenly I find myself in a place where Christians are startlingly honest about their struggles- leaders, racers, everyone. And it seems so upside down. Do you mean to tell me, God, that your power is made perfect in my weakness? That my hope doesn’t come from the moral uprightness of my community, but from you? Do you mean to tell me that my vulnerability brings glory to your name? That the whole point of this is to glorify you?

My value as a Christian is based on how little I sin, right? God’s power is proven in our ability to not sin, right? Unless, of course, the penalty for everything I’ve ever done wrong has been paid for by the ultimate authority of the universe, and every good thing comes from him alone. I guess I can’t pretend to be righteous anymore. I know a guy who is, though.

Pride & Trying to Be Important

In high school, I thrust myself into lots of leadership positions. A middle school small group, worship for all the things, a bible study at my school, leadership teams. It was incredible. God worked awesome things through it. It taught me so much. There was just one problem: I began to “take responsibility” for other people’s spiritual health. Instead of relying on the Holy Spirit to work in people’s hearts, I began to think that it was my job to make Jesus palatable to other people. So when doubts arose, I buried them to save face. I stopped seeking God and started seeking results, and in doing so missed out on recognizing the work of the Holy Spirit in my life and in others. Chasing after fruit, I fell off the vine.

John 15:5

 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”

This past month, I’ve been in zero(0) leadership positions. Sitting in the back of the room with a notebook and bible, I finally gave myself the freedom not only to receive but to doubt, and out of that freedom poured an ocean of questions and conversations with God. The questions were all there before. But now, they are uprooted and in broad daylight, and I’m so ready to sift through and surrender each one, however scary that may be.  

Do I still battle the temptation to put on some persona to be liked and accepted here? Absolutely. But every day, my image becomes a little less important. He must increase and I must decrease. If it was any other way, I’d be in serious trouble.

What pops into your mind when you hear the word “religion?” Do you think of stained glass? An old cathedral or a spacious auditorium? Friends and a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning? Someone on the outside of religion might say “a way to control large groups of people,” or “a club of families that share morals” Jesus is inviting you into so much more than any of those definitions. He’s inviting you to a relationship, one that will free you from your old self, that is, if you’re willing to let your old self go.