A Theological Perspective on "Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus"

By now all of you have probably seen this viral video, “Why I Hate Religion, but Love Jesus” by Jefferson Bethke. It’s gotten a lot of views, and consequently a lot of press coverage. I’m not prone to jump into something just because it was in the news (or, at least, I try to suppress that urge) but there are two reasons why I want to talk about this: (1) because the first time I saw it was not in the news, but when people I know posted it online, which makes it personally relevant, and (2) because it touches on some of the things I’ve personally been wrestling with, specifically the concept of “religion” and the role of the church. Now, I call this “a” theological perspective because I don’t want anyone to think I’m saying this is “The” theological perspective; rather, this is how I personally react to this video’s message based on my theological perspective, which has changed considerably when I entered seminary. Before then I would be inclined to agree with this video, though I still would have found it a bit heavy-handed. Now I’m more aware of the history of the concepts that are being played with, which makes me more concerned about the influence this video will have. Now, I could do a line-by-line analysis, but that would get boring and tedious. Instead, I’m going to focus in on the two things I think are the most important: the concept of “religion” and the role of the Church in Christianity.

What is “Religion”?

I’m not particularly upset, offended, or excited by this poem for one main reason: I’m not entirely sure who is being targeted. Bethke throws around the term “religion” a lot, without ever defining his terms. Granted, it would be weird for him to stop to define a word in the middle of a poem, but the problem is that “religion” is a word that needs defining—ESPECIALLY when you start your poem with the statement “Jesus came to abolish religion.” He seems to connect the concept of “religion” with legalism, with doing a list of chores in order to be saved while ignoring the sick and needy and ostracizing the sinners. However, his message is dampened by the fact that he never specifies what he’s talking about—the problem being that no one views themselves that way. If he doesn’t tell us who he’s talking about, everyone will assume he’s talking about someone else (I, for instance, think it is supremely ironic that Bethke is saying all this as a member of Mars Hill Church, but more on that later). So who the heck is he talking about?

Here’s where it gets interesting (to me, at least). Bethke claims that Jesus came to abolish “religion,” that Jesus and “religion” are on opposite ends of the spectrum, that God called “religious” people whores in the Old Testament, and that Jesus is the cure to the “infection” of “religion.” All of this is, of course, nonsense, for the significant reason that the concept of “religion” did not exist until the Enlightenment (1600’s). If you could go back in time and talk to Jesus, even if you knew perfect Aramaic, Greek, and Latin, you wouldn’t be able to ask him about “religion” because no such word existed at the time. How the word came about is an interesting but complex story, and to anyone who is interested I highly recommend The Myth of Religious Violence by William T. Cavanaugh. But the point is, whatever Bethke is talking about is not what Jesus was talking about, because even if Jesus had tried to “abolish religion” he would have been a millennium-and-a-half too early.

Now, if Bethke had said that Jesus can to abolish self-righteousness, works-righteousness, etc., I would have understood his point and agreed (for the most part) with his sentiment--and, more importantly, it would have been historically possible for Jesus to talk about such things. However, the problem is that those vices do not occur only among the people Bethke would call “religious.” Those who oppose the self-righteousness and works-righteousness of “religion” are just as prone to the same vices—they can become self-righteous about their non-religiousness (as Bethke so ably demonstrates: “I’m not judging” indeed), and non-religiousness itself can become a kind of works-righteousness. What this poem is doing, and what Emergent and anti-denominational Christians seem to do all the time, is make up this category called “religion,” label all the forms of Christianity they don’t like as “religion,” and then declare that “religion” is the source of every vice in the Church. We are led to believe, then, that non-“religious” Christians are somehow immune to the self-righteousness and uncharitableness that is common in other churches. In my opinion, any familiarity with mega-churches like Mars Hill will quickly demonstrate that this is not the case. 

How Important is the Church?

At one point Bethke says, “I love the Church, I love the Bible, and yes, I believe in Sin.” Now, I have no reason to disbelieve him on the second and third count, though of course his reading of the Bible is warped by his attempt to force concepts like “religion” into the text when they don’t exist there. However, I truly question what he actually means when he says that he “loves the Church.” Now, being that he comes from a non-denominational church (as do I) I assume he means the “spiritual Church,” rather than the institutional church. That is, when he says “The Church” he doesn’t mean the building or the organization, but the body of true believers who are spread throughout the world, which makes up some, but not all, of the people who go to church every Sunday. To put it bluntly, I suspect that when he says he loves the Church, his vision of the Church does not include “religious” people.

So what is the relationship between the institutional church—the actual buildings, leaders, denominations, etc.—and the spiritual Church? I think Bethke’s position on this comes out most clearly at the end when he says, “So for religion, I hate it. In fact, I literally resent it. Because when Jesus said ‘It is finished,’ I believe he meant it.” Now, I will suppress my natural urge to criticize his use of the word “literally” (Ok, I can’t help it. What, did you think someone might take that figuratively?). But what we actually see here is a pretty clear vision of Bethke’s position on the church, which is in line with a lot of Emergent and anti-denominational Christians. Basically, Bethke believes that Christianity is a relationship between Jesus and me (“Salvation is freely mine, and salvation is my own;” “When he was dangling on that cross, he was thinking of you”). The spiritual Church, then, made up of all the people who have this individual relationship with Jesus; the institutional church, however, is more like a club or a support group, a place where anyone can come—and talk about Jesus, but just because you went doesn’t mean you have the relationship, and just because you don’t go doesn’t mean you do. It’s a very American view of the church: you can go if you want, but ultimately your relationship with Jesus is your business. This is why Bethke “literally resents” religion (i.e. churches), because it tries to step between you and Jesus and take over something that is between “Jesus and me.”

Like I said, this view is popular today. Unfortunately, it’s also unbiblical. Christianity is not about Jesus and me, it’s about Jesus and the Church. But before we get to that, let’s examine Bethke’s proof text. He cites Jesus’ claim that “It is finished” as proof that Jesus has already accomplished everything, and so the idea that the church can do anything is cause to be “literally” resentful. Now, that might be what Jesus meant—he might have meant that all of salvation history ended at that point. Or he might have meant that his work on the cross specifically was done, and that the work of salvation continued. The latter makes more sense to me, considering that Paul wrote, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:6 NIV), and told the Philippians to “continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling” (2:12). The fact of the matter is that Bethke is peddling bad theology here—he is focusing on Justification (God absolving us from sin) and ignoring Sanctification (God purifying us from sin). Jesus may have justified us on the cross, but the Spirit sanctifies us in our life—and the Spirit acts in the Church.

See, that’s the problem. Bethke seems to think that Christianity is a private matter between him and Jesus, but Christianity has never been that way, not until radical individualism came into vogue in America. The bride of Christ is not the individual—it is the Church. The Spirit inhabits the Church, not just the individual—it is passed down through the Church, it acts through the Church. The Church is the very presence of Christ on earth, left here until his return. This is why he have the very ancient (pre-Roman Catholic) saying, “Whoever does not have the Church for a mother cannot have God for a father.”

Of course, I am a protestant and a non-denominational just like Bethke. I too believe in the distinction between the institutional church and the spiritual church. Not everyone who goes to church is part of the body of Christ. However, the literal (and I mean literal), physical body of believers—the organization of believers who meet regularly to worship Christ—play an essential role in the Christian life. You cannot be a Christian on your own, you cannot even know what it means to be a Christian on your own. It is through being with other believers, and submitting to the authority of the body, that we learn how to pray, how to worship, how to interpret the Bible, how to serve others, how to love others. Everything about the life of a Christian is learned through going to church. The church is the check on our own biases—it prevents us (or it did, before church-shopping came into vogue) from making Christianity into whatever we want it to be (For instance, if we wanted Christianity to be the anti-religion).  I don’t know if I would say use the same phrase as those early Christians, given the complexities of church politics; but I would say this: whoever does not have the church for brothers and sisters does not have God for a father.  

Let me close by saying this. I do not assume that everyone who watched, liked, or posted this video agreed with Bethke on these points. I do not even assume that Bethke himself was aware of the implications of his argument. In fact, I think that’s the main problem. Messages such as these sound great the first time, they really do. It is very easy to react by simply agreeing with them, as I probably would have done two years ago. But we must be careful to examine the merits of popular fads like this one. We have to question why it appeals to us: is it because Bethke’s sentiment represents a godly attitude, or because it gives us the right to tell off anyone who tries to get between me and Jesus (or, rather, who I want Jesus to be)? Is it because it calls us to godly action, or because it gives us someone else to blame for the imperfections of Christianity? Is it because religion really is the infection Jesus came to cure, or is it because targeting “religion” allows us to ignore our own infections? I will not presume to answer such questions. But I believe they need to be asked.