Religion vs. Relationships

But what about you?

He asked, Who do you say I am?

—Matthew 16:15


When I was a teenager, I attended a church that featured a stunning stained-glass window depicting Jesus’ Ascension. The window was enormous and cast vibrant shards of blue, violet, and clear light over every face and surface during Sunday morning services. For many people, Jesus is the poster boy for the religion we call Christianity. He has been reduced to a mere stained-glass religious icon—pale, blue eyes that stare off into the horizon longingly. Others, on the other hand, have portrayed Jesus as being an American patriot who is both judge and jury of anyone who is “different.” Others believe Jesus was a man who loved radically, whose mission was all about social justice for the poor and marginalized, and others simply believe he never existed. It seems to me that Jesus has a major PR issue that needs to be addressed.

To do this, I believe we need to revisit the question Jesus asked his disciples in Matthew 16:15, “Who do you say I am?” 

The Jesus we meet in the Gospels was not the “face” of an organized religion. He was not the poster boy for legalistic theology and moral superiority. Jesus was not the ambassador for war, violence, and the marginalization of the poor, disabled, and those that religious and political leaders deemed “unworthy.” Jesus was a rebel. He flipped tables when he saw the powerful harming the weak and vulnerable. He invited sex workers, tax collectors, lepers, eunuchs, and the “unclean” to sit at his table and break bread. 

The Jesus we meet in the Gospels was not distant but deeply present and touchable. He made himself attainable and approachable. He was not passive but purposefully disruptive. He did not present himself as a warrior king but as a humble servant. Jesus was also not Caucasian or European, and he certainly was not an American. His identity transcends the limitations we often impose based on culture or geography. Instead, Jesus embodies a universal message of love and compassion that invites every individual, regardless of background, to seek connection and understanding. It seems that many people feel the need to reshape historical figures to fit their narratives or beliefs. This tendency can obscure the true essence of their teachings and dilute the profound impact they can have on our lives.

Today, Jesus’ name is being weaponized by those in power to uphold systems that he stood against: xenophobia, patriarchy, nationalism, racism, sexism, and other forms of fear and hate that marginalize the “least of these.” The Jesus we meet in the Gospels, the real Jesus, told Peter to put away his sword; he washed the feet of the one who betrayed him and ate with him, knowing what Judas was about to do. Are all of these stories of Jesus just myths? Are the centuries of people who sacrificed their lives to carry out his mission, even if it meant their death, just blind naive devotion? Is all this Jesus Christ stuff just a bunch of religions, or is it something far more real?

Do you hear that? That voice asking, “Who do you say I am?” I hear it. I have heard that voice my whole life, even when I had no idea what or who it belonged to. I heard it in the wind as it howled through the twisted branches over my head as I ran through the woods playing Wonder Woman. I heard that voice as I was shoved into lockers, spit on, and chased by members of the varsity football team. I heard that voice as I sat on the banks of the Scioto River struggling with suicidal ideation because I was taught by my church that Jesus could never love or even look at something like me. You see, for me and others, Jesus is not just the poster boy for Christianity, nor is he just religion. Jesus is my best friend. He is my Savior for sure, for he saved me from those muddy banks during one of the darkest periods of my life as well as my soul. You see, for me, this isn’t religion; this is a relationship!

Listen. Do you hear him asking that centuries-old question? “How about you? Who do you say I am?”

By Jayme Blevins