"But I cannot silence the voice within me that speaks of a different way—
one that seeks freedom in Christ, that holds fast to the unchanging truth of His love
and sacrifice, and that walks in the Spirit,
without the need for human intermediaries to tell me how to approach my God."
Image by https://unsplash.com/@kellysikkema
As a Christian, I often grapple with the limitations imposed by religious structures that elevate individuals to spiritual leadership roles, which dangerously resemble divine authority. These systems frequently claim to be divinely guided and assert they possess the "truth," yet they display an alarming inconsistency over time: beliefs shift, policies change, and rules continuously evolve. For a faith that professes ultimate certainty, this reality is unsettling.
The teachings of Jesus resonate with me distinctly, cutting through the noise of human traditions. Ephesians 2:18 states, “For through him we both have our access in one Spirit to the Father.” This privilege is not bestowed by any human, nor is it a conditional grace offered by religious institutions. It reflects the unwavering truth of our direct relationship with God, something no organization can mediate or control. Through the Spirit, God assures us of our identity as His children—no intermediary besides Jesus is necessary.
I approach God in conversation as Jesus did, simply and intimately addressing Him as “Father.” The purity of this bond forms the cornerstone of my faith. Yet, I find it challenging to reconcile this closeness with denominations that assert divine guidance while frequently revising their fundamental doctrines. What does it mean to be "inspired by God" if the truths affirmed today differ from those held in the past? Such inconsistency feels less like divine oversight and more akin to the unstable nature of human error.
These religious bodies often function like a pyramid, with authority concentrated at the top. At the apex, we find individuals who demand unquestioning obedience from those below. These leaders, claiming to be the primary interpreters of God’s will, assume positions of authority that, in my perspective, undermine the essence of Christ’s teachings. This hierarchical structure enforces conformity, not just in belief but also in behaviour, often hindering personal relationships with God.
Perhaps the most distressing aspect is witnessing the practice of disfellowshipping, excommunication, or shunning—measures that sever spiritual ties for the perceived offense of independent worship. I have witnessed individuals and families torn apart simply because someone chose to worship God in a manner that diverged from institutional norms, despite sharing the same fundamental beliefs. It pains me deeply to see such acts justified under the guise of righteousness.
I can’t help but reflect on the Pharisees and religious leaders during Jesus' time, who placed burdens on people while clinging to rules and traditions that contradicted the core of God's law: love. Jesus, in His wisdom and compassion, criticized them, not for their dedication but for their distortion of what it means to genuinely follow God. I see parallels in contemporary religious practices that emphasize preserving an organization's reputation over fostering the well-being and unity of believers.
Even more troubling, some institutions, in their quest for self-preservation, have concealed darkness. Stories of abuse—especially concerning those who have harmed the vulnerable—are alarmingly prevalent. By doing so, they prioritize the organization's reputation over the sacred duty to protect and love others. This is a far cry from the gospel of Christ!
However, my heart does not harbour anger or bitterness against the flock who walk the pathway under such regimes. I recognize the profound longing for community, certainty, and spiritual direction. It is not my place to judge those who choose these routes. Instead, my appeal is one of compassion and kindness, for I know that many on these paths are deeply sincere in their faith, even if I struggle with the systems they support. I love them, for they are my brothers and sisters in Christ, and I yearn for a deeper understanding and unity.
But I cannot silence the voice within me that speaks of a different way—one that seeks freedom in Christ, that holds fast to the unchanging truth of His love and sacrifice, and that walks in the Spirit, without the need for human intermediaries to tell me how to approach my God.
In the end, I am left with the simple, yet profound truth: Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No institution, no prophet, no leader can stand in His place. Through Him, and only Him, I find my access to the Father. And through that access, I find peace.