Faith is a Relationship and a Religion

The Emotional Weight of Worship

So much of my experience of church has been shaped by this sense that everything needs to land emotionally. The music, the language, the prayers—they're supposed to stir something deep in us, right? And when they don't? Sometimes it feels like maybe we've missed something.

Confession: I Am a Religious Person

Now, I know that might sound obvious coming from a pastor. But here's the thing: I grew up in the evangelical tradition, and over and over I was told that Christianity is "a relationship, not a religion." And look, I get the first part. I really do. There's a real, authentic connection with the Divine that I've experienced—one that I want to nurture and grow.

But the second part of that phrase? That's where I push back. Because Christianity has also very much been a religion for me. It's a set of practices that I return to. It's a community that helps hold me accountable. It's a structure that grounds me—even when the feelings aren't all there.

Beyond Emotion: A Fuller Faith

And I know I'm not alone. Over the years, I've had countless conversations—as a pastor and right here online—with people, particularly men, who have felt like their experience of Christianity wasn't being fully represented. There's often an emphasis on feelings and emotion in faith that can leave others wondering where they fit.

But here's the truth: the rituals, the habits, the shared convictions? These matter. They anchor us in the way of Jesus. Some of us are drawn to faith through an emotional encounter with God that shifts our inner world. Others are pulled in by the practices, the community, the rhythm. Both paths are valid. Both are sacred.

A Conversation with My Son

I remember a conversation with my son a while back. He had just learned that one of his classmates didn't eat bacon because he was Muslim. My son, being a vegetarian, was trying to make sense of all these dietary choices. He asked, "Are Christians allowed to eat bacon?"

I started into this long explanation about dietary laws and Jesus and how what really matters is what comes out of us, not what we put in. And he cut me off. "I just want to know if Christians can eat bacon."

So I said, "Yes."

But then he asked, "I'm a vegetarian. Am I also a Christian?"

And there it was. The real question. I told him, "Eventually, you get to decide that for yourself. But yes, right now you're a Christian. Because that's the story our family is living in. It's how we explore who God is and how God has been revealed."

Looking back, I realize I was saying that to myself as much as to him. Even now, at 46, even as a pastor, my faith is still both the relationship that holds me and the religion that shapes me.

Holding the Whole Experience

That doesn't diminish my love for God. In fact, it's what makes it real. There are times when I feel close to God—when I pray, when I sense divine guidance. But more often, my faith is about aligning my life with the teachings of Jesus. It's about conviction. Purpose. Sometimes, even courage.

Not every moment in faith is wrapped in emotional fervor. And that's okay. Because my faith lives not just in my heart, but in my gut, in my mind, in my desire to be a better human.

A Faith Worth Holding

And maybe that's what makes it sustainable. It's the wide spectrum of experience—the highs and lows, the head and the heart—that gives faith its strength.

So yes, Christianity is a relationship. But it’s also a religion. And it’s in that integration that we find a faith worth holding on to for the long haul.