Spiritual, but not religious: Addressing common misconceptions
The following article is written by Max Jeganathan, author and speaker at OCCA, The Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics.
“I’m spiritual but not religious!”
It’s an increasingly common line, especially among younger people. But what does it mean and what does it say about who we are?
Around 150 years ago, atheist philosopher Frederich Nietzsche declared ‘God is dead.’ This was followed by two world wars and the reconstruction of a globalised, tech-focused world driven by market forces, growing diversity and material prosperity. The idea of secularism simmered along under the surface and influenced various movements including post-modernism, secular humanism and the sexual revolution of the 1960s. It meant different things to different people, but shared a common impulse: personal autonomy. It all boiled down to what Frank Sinatra famously sang, ‘I did it my way!’
Technology, comfort, and industry accelerated our instinct for freedom and self-determination. Many who now identify as “spiritual but not religious” invariably carry traces of this cultural story. But the deeper point is one about our unchanging human condition – specifically our longing for meaning, purpose and transcendence. Our computers are faster. Our phones are smarter. Our holidays are more instagrammable. But we are still searching for the same things we have always been searching for – identity, meaning, answers and purpose – and the renewed appetite for the spiritual proves that our physical world is not enough.
Religion is just a bunch of rules — or is it?
Our spiritual curiosity rightly points beyond ourselves, but an aversion to organised “religion” (however we might define it) may be misplaced. This is particularly true of Christianity, which is often the implied target of the “I’m not religious” label in the West.
There is no denying that some who claim Christianity have caused immense harm, worthy of condemnation. Marginalisation, oppression, discrimination, and even war have sadly all occurred in its name. Yet history also records that Christians and churches have been responsible for countless good – including but not limited to being instrumental in advancing human rights, abolishing slavery, pioneering healthcare, promoting education and workers’ rights, and leading global humanitarian and charitable efforts.
Debates about whether Christianity has been a net positive for humankind will continue. But when it comes to an individual search for truth and meaning, dismissing Christianity on the basis of stereotypes or the failures of some of its adherents is problematic for several reasons:
- First, a genuine spiritual search, which is essentially a search for answers beyond our physical world, may well intersect with an organised belief system.
- Second, whether something is true is a better basis for believing it, than whether we dislike its institutions or some of its adherents.
- Third, caricatures of the Church are far less important than the actual content of the Christian message – especially if that message is true.
Is faith the enemy of reason — or of truth?
For some, the search for spirituality without religion reflects a desire for what feels meaningful or helpful for them at the time. That impulse is understandable. But what satisfies subjective preference does not necessarily align with objective truth or long-term flourishing.
Plato famously argued that truth requires following the evidence wherever it leads. When we constrain our search for meaning within preferred categories, such as pitting spirituality against religion, we risk placing feelings above truth.
Christianity, uniquely, claims more than mere truth value. It claims that truth is personal before it is propositional. Christianity teaches that God entered history in the person of Jesus Christ, who lived, died, and rose again. Truth, according to Christian teaching, is not just something to believe but someone to know. Such an audacious truth claim deserves careful consideration. Because if it is true, it changes everything that many of us think about spirituality, religion and everything else.
All paths lead to the same peak — or do they?
A common spiritual assumption is that all religions are different paths to the same destination – that all religions can be equally true. The problem with this idea is that a closer examination of the world’s religions, including Christianity, reveal that they make mutually exclusive claims about God, humanity, salvation, meaning, and destiny. Christianity explicitly rejects the idea that it is merely one path among many. Jesus himself is clear about that (John 14:6).
This does not give Christians license to be arrogant or contemptuous about those who hold different beliefs. Christians are called to unconditional love, but unconditional love is not the same as unconditional affirmation. Stating that all truth claims are equally true is neither logical nor loving. Truth, by definition, excludes contradiction—just as 1+1=2 excludes every other answer. Our only hope is to follow Plato’s advice: ask questions and follow the evidence to where it leads.
Importantly, Christianity’s exclusive truth claims do not deny that other religions may contain glimpses of truth. In fact, many bear witness to aspects of the human condition, the human heart and human anthropology that further point to the truth value of the Christian message. Yet Christianity claims to be the fulfilment, not merely one expression, of that search. Ultimately, the question is not whether Christianity sounds exclusive, but whether it is true. As the Bible puts it, Christianity’s credibility rests on the historical reality of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:14–17).
It seems that what matters more than how we define ‘spirituality’ and ‘religion’ is what we believe, why we believe it, and what it means for us. Religion and spirituality need not be enemies – especially if they both converge on the truth.
Our search for meaning
What arguably drives today’s spiritual hunger is the timeless human desire to matter—to have weight, substance, and significance. This longing feels especially acute in an age of rapid technological change and deepening social fragmentation. Anxiety, alienation, and mental ill-health are at historic highs.
Ironically, as material prosperity has increased, our sense of meaning has declined. Longitudinal studies, including the Harvard Study of Adult Development, suggest an inverse relationship between wealth and perceived meaning. The secular narrative tries to meet this need for meaning with a call to make something of ourselves in our own strength. We are urged to “be true to ourselves.” Philosopher Charles Taylor calls this the “age of authenticity.” Yet turning inward for meaning ultimately disappoints. The growing turn away from atheism toward spirituality suggests that self-made identity is insufficient; building identity in our own strength doesn’t seem to work.
The Christian message takes this search for meaning seriously. The Bible affirms our hunger for it, claiming that God put it there by “setting eternity in the human heart” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). However, without God, the best we can do is vague mysticism and self-made belief systems through which we lift ourselves up by our own bootstraps. The Bible channels the concept of meaning through the theological idea of ‘glory’. In the Hebrew, ‘kavod’ which we translate as ‘glory’, refers to weight, substance, or significance. In other words, the Bible understands glory in similar terms to what we think of now as ‘meaning.’ And just like us, the communities written about in Biblical times wanted it.
Why a “relationship” with God trumps “spirituality”
God invites people into relationship with Him and in return, offers to be our glory, or our meaning (Isaiah 60:19–20). God offers to relieve us of the burden of making something of ourselves, by ourselves. Significance is received, not achieved. He gives us all the significance and purpose we could ever imagine, and more, simply by virtue of being His children, members of His family, citizens in His kingdom.
Christianity is therefore not primarily about rules or moral performance, which it is often misunderstood to be. This misunderstanding is arguably one of the biggest drivers of public aversion to the institutional Christian church. On some level, it seems that people feel the need to separate spirituality from religion, in order to get what they want (meaning, purpose, transcendence and identity) while avoiding what they don’t want (judgment, accountability and punishment).
Christianity does offer a compelling moral vision—love of neighbour, even of enemies—but it begins with relationship. Christianity is not for “good” people, but for those who recognise their need for rescue and restoration. It replaces law-keeping with the offer of a supernatural transformation of identity through a saving relationship with God himself.
How?
God stepped into the world as a person, taking our brokenness, wrongdoing and suffering onto himself, paying the price for our existential fallenness by dying on a cross and now, offering us restoration and meaning through relationship with him, through Jesus (John 3:16). And perhaps most astonishingly, all of this happens through grace – God’s unmerited favour poured out on those who respond to His invitation into relationship.
Conclusion
Attempts to separate spirituality are understandable, but unnecessary. One need not choose between the two. Religion can be more than a bunch of rules shrouded in judgment and performance expectations. And spirituality should be more than abstract notions of self-help and escapism. Somehow, our hearts seem to reach beyond our physical world while railing against the fear of judgment. Is there a way that we can have hope, transcendence and meaning without the baggage of condemnation and brokenness? Yes.
At its core, Christianity does not pit religion against spirituality. It transcends and redefines both. Jesus constantly challenged judgemental religiosity (Matthew 15:8). He clearly stated that he didn’t come to abolish the law but to fulfil and transcend it (Matthew 5:17). Through Jesus Christ, spirituality and religion are not opposed to each other. Rather they converge in a person and are offered to people through grace.
According to the Christian message, the meaning, purpose, and transcendence we seek cannot be found apart from Him. He is the way, the truth, and the life we are searching for, whatever language we use (John 14:6).
Learning More
OCCA The Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics was established in 2004 to raise up the next generation of evangelist-apologists. By 2021, around 350 emerging evangelists from around the world had studied on the OCCA one-year programme. This course equipped each of them to share and defend the gospel message and to come alongside others to help them with their intellectual objections and heartfelt concerns about the Christian faith. Subscribe to our weekly newsletters to see our latest articles from our team of speakers.
Max Jeganathan