The Problem With Being "Spiritual, Not Religious"

“Religious ‘Nones’ are now the largest single group in the U.S.” That was the discovery of a recent study conducted by Pew Research.

In that study, 28% of the 3,300-plus participants checked ‘none’ to describe their current religious affiliation. That doesn’t mean that 93 million Americans identify as agnostic (undecided if there is a God) or atheist (an assertion that no God exists). Only 17% of that 93 million identify as atheist, while 20% identify as agnostic. The remaining 63% - about 58 million Americans – religiously identify as “nothing in particular”.

For varying reasons, this demographic no longer looks to religion for a relationship with God or revelation of some sort of higher power. They tend not to look to sacred texts for truth. Instead, they rely heavily on human reason and emotional intuition. For example, their understanding of what is evil or wrong largely boils down to whether they believe something hurts other people – physically, mentally, or spiritually. Similarly, they tend to define things as good and right if they believe it to be beneficial for human flourishing.

This demographic isn’t necessarily anti-religion, but this demographic is widely critical of religion; some believe religion has caused good, but equally has caused harm; others believe religion has caused way more harm than good.

They associate the word ‘religion’ with loveless legalism, abusive dogmatism, fear-driven rigidity, and systemic hypocrisy; however, in their minds, the word “spiritual” doesn’t carry the same kind of baggage. Their spirituality may consist of meditation, communing with nature, or sifting through the sayings of a variety of spiritual figures. Many still believe in some sort of God or higher power, but they don’t affiliate with any religion.

For them, the nomenclature that describes their beliefs best is “spiritual, but not religious.”

But this surge of non-affiliated spirituality is nothing new. This kind of ‘spirituality’ was just as prevalent during Jesus’ earthly ministry as it is today. People already then were tuning in to whatever their itching ears wanted to hear.

They were like reeds, ceaselessly swinging and swaying in whatever direction the spirit of the age was blowing.

But the ‘song’ that Jesus and John the Baptist were singing was a different tune entirely. The song that they were singing brings an end to all our scrolling, shuffling, and searching. The song they were singing gives answers to questions of our life’s meaning, purpose, and our relationship with God. The song they were singing wasn’t just good news: it was the good news of who Jesus is for us.

“Jesus, Are You the One? Or…”

Jesus’ identity is at the center of his discourse in Luke 7:18-35; that might surprise you, given how much time Jesus spends talking about this guy named John. But the ministry of John the Baptist and Jesus were tied together.

God had commissioned John to be the forerunner for the Son of God and Savior of the world. God describes the nature of John’s ministry through the prophet Malachi centuries prior, where God says, “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.” Old Testament prophecy placed the work of John the Baptist in the immediate forefront of the saving work of the Messiah. John was the herald who ran ahead of the Messiah to ready hearts to receive this coming King.

And when Jesus hit the scene, John continued doing what he had been doing all along: directing eyes, hearts, and ears to Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. The shuffling could stop. The searching could cease. Jesus is the One for whom they were waiting: the eternal Son of God, the Savior. And John confidently proclaimed that.

But that was before John was thrown in prison. Luke’s account doesn’t mention that detail to us, but Matthew’s account does. And while John waits in that jail cell, it seems he started to worry.

Maybe he worried about the significance of his own ministry, as it seemed to have come to a dramatic and abrupt end. If Jesus was God’s Messiah, then what was John – one of God’s prophets – doing in prison? What’s more, from what John’s disciples were reporting about Jesus, it didn’t sound like Jesus was doing the things that John expected the Messiah would do.

If Jesus wasn’t God’s long-awaited Messiah, then John definitely wasn’t the Messiah’s opening act. Their ministries were different, but they were inseparably tied together. Whether it was Jesus’ ministry called into question or John’s, to doubt one threw suspicion on the other. And that inseparable connection wasn’t lost on John’s disciples, the crowd, or Jesus’ critics.

So, John gives voice to the million-dollar question that was on everyone’s mind: “[Jesus], are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?” “Are you the answer to our hearts’ greatest questions? Are you the solution to our world’s greatest problems? Are you what all of us are ceaselessly searching for? Or should we keep searching?”

“…Should We Keep Searching?”

Those who are spiritual, not religious would tell you that you should.

Matthew Hedstrom is a professor of religion at the University of Virginia. In his class, “Spirituality in America”, he asserts that being “spiritual, but not religious” is about “seeking,” rather than “dwelling”. After all, with so many perspectives, can any one person really have all the answers about God?

There’s an Eastern parable that attempts to illustrate Hedstrom’s point. There are six blind men in a room with an elephant – and each try to describe what an elephant is. The first blind man feels the side of the elephant, and says, “How smooth! An elephant is like a wall!” The second grabs hold of the elephant’s trunk. “How round! An elephant must be like a snake!” The third takes hold of the elephant's tusk. “How sharp! An elephant must be like a spear!” The fourth, fifth, and sixth do the same – respectively concluding that the elephant must be something other than what it actually is.

The moral of the story is, no worldview has the authority to dismiss or discredit another, as no worldview has a comprehensive understanding of the truth.

But the parable only works if there is another character in the story – and that’s us, the unblind observer. The parable may call for humility from the religions of the world – but it arrogantly does the exact opposite by claiming to have superior knowledge. The parable can assert all it wants that no worldview has the authority to discredit the claims of another – but the parable can only say that if it is a higher authority than everyone else.

And that’s ultimately the problem with being “spiritual, but not religious”. It may claim to be a more humble, modest, open-minded alternative than other religions, but it haughtily elevates you as the ultimate authority.

Think about it. If being spiritual, but not religious is to treat all religions and spiritualities as options in a spiritual buffet, who is the authority that determines what you do or don’t put on your plate?

You see, being “spiritual, but not religious” isn’t really a rejection of religious authority; it’s simply replacing religious authority with you.

We see that in this story, don’t we? People rejected the message of the reclusive, desert-dwelling John the Baptist because he didn’t eat and drink with people. But when Jesus did dwell among the people and ate and drank with them, they still reject Jesus, even though he met the criterion that John had not!

Jesus completely met the criteria of the Messiah. He alludes to Isaiah 35:1-10, which describes the sin-reversing restoration that the Son of God would bring. “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.” But no matter how many miracles Jesus did, his critics would shift the goal post and demand more.

You see, inside all of us is a sinful nature that wants a ‘spirituality’ where who you are and who God is, is entirely dictated by you. Our sinful nature wants to fabricate a ‘spirituality’ where we are the ultimate authority, and accountable to absolutely no one. And no matter what God would say – no matter what song God would sing – we can find a reason to tune out.

God says all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God, and we’d think “the Christian doctrine of sin is way too harsh!” We hear that all have been justified freely by God’s grace through the redemptive work of Christ Jesus, and we’d think “The doctrine of grace is way too lenient!”

Jesus says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one has a relationship with God or entry into his heaven but through me. No one can see themselves for who they really are or God for who he is except through me,” – and we’d say, “That’s way too exclusive!” That is until thieves, prostitutes, and murderers who trusted in Jesus get into heaven – and then Christianity is way too inclusive!

We’re like the child who changes the rules of Monopoly when we’re losing. We’re like the child who kicks and screams in the backseat until dad changes the station. We’re like children playing in the marketplace, but when we hear a dirge, we don’t mourn; when we hear the flute, we don’t dance.

We’d rather incessantly scroll through an infinite playlist than hear the one song we need to hear.

Our God Speaks

But, for a world that would enslave itself to an endless quest of always “seeking” and never “dwelling” – our God would seek us so that we would dwell in him. God would take on our human flesh in order to seek and to save a world that was lost. While we were born spiritually dead and blind, our God doesn’t leave us groping around aimlessly trying to find him or figure out what kind of God he is. The last thing that we want is a God whose character and being are dictated and determined by our hearts.

Thankfully, our God isn’t the silent elephant in the room. Our God speaks.

Our God discloses himself to us through his Word. That Word would become flesh and make his dwelling among us. God would tangibly reveal himself through his Son. God, in Christ, would visibly unveil his very heart for our fallen world to see. A heart that desires all people to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. A heart that longs to gather every human being together under his wings for refuge. A heart that loves us so much, he would open that heart to be pierced and crushed for us.

To fulfill all righteousness, Jesus was perfectly spiritual and religious for us – and he would take our sins of manmade religion and self-centered spirituality to the cross and die for us. And – because our God’s promises never fail – your God and Savior rose again to life – to assure you that his saving work is complete: you are forgiven, restored to God, renewed, redeemed, and heaven-bound.

Jesus hates loveless legalism, abusive dogmatism, fear-driven rigidity, and systemic hypocrisy, too (even more than you do, in fact). But privatizing your spirituality isn’t the solution to that problem. Who you are in Christ isn’t something you’ll discover if you dig deeper and deeper within yourself: you’re only going to find dirt.

The gospel is a reality that must come from the outside in. So, find a church that faithfully proclaims the Word of God. “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest,” Jesus says. Do you know what that means? That means your shuffling can stop. Your searching can cease. “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.” Jesus says. Because in Christ, we not only see who our God of grace and mercy truly is, but we find who we truly are, too.