The Saying We Love
You’ve probably heard the phrase, “Christianity is not a religion, it’s a relationship.” It’s a popular saying for American Christians, especially in evangelical circles, and it’s got a certain ring to it. The idea behind it is to make Christianity seem more appealing—less about dusty rituals, more about a living connection with Jesus.
There’s something attractive there, and it’s not entirely off-base.
After all, Jesus said, “I no longer call you servants… I have called you friends” (John 15:15). The New Testament teaches this personal dynamic—grace, faith, a God who knows us. But here’s where I want to pause: Christianity is a religion. And denying that it is a religion doesn’t just oversimplify—it misses the bigger picture of what God’s doing through the covenant relationship He created through Jesus.
Where the Phrase Holds—and Falters
Let’s take a deeper look at the saying. On one hand, it’s trying to capture something real. It pushes back against the stereotype of religion as cold formalism—think Pharisees with their rules, missing the heart of God. The “relationship” bit highlights how Christianity invites us into something intimate, transformative, and even messy as we face the challenges of maturity. It’s not wrong to say that knowing Jesus changes everything.
But calling it “not a religion” misses the reality of how we have a relationship with God. Christianity has sacred texts (the Bible), doctrines (Trinity, atonement), rituals (baptism, communion), and disciplines (meditation, prayer, fasting). That’s religion by any definition. To ditch the term “religion” is to set up a false split—religion as the bad guy, relationship as the hero. It sounds catchy, but it is not true.
Covenant: The Bigger Frame
Here’s the thing: Christianity doesn’t need to shed “religion” to appeal to people. It’s a religion defined by a relationship—one that’s rooted in covenant.
So what’s a covenant? It’s a sacred agreement that is binding. In the case of Christianity, it is an agreement between God and His people, that blends commitment and loyalty with purpose and promise. God doesn’t just deal with us as scattered individuals; He binds us to Himself and to each other through promises that echo across history. Think of Abraham: “I will be your God, and you will be my people” (Genesis 17:7). Or the new covenant in Jesus’ blood, sealing us as a “chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation” (1 Peter 2:9). This isn’t just a private “me and Jesus” thing—it’s a communal reality, a people set apart by God.
When “Relationship” Shrinks the Story
The “relationship, not religion” line risks shrinking God’s covenant down. It turns faith into a cozy, solo experience, sidelining the bigger, messier truth of covenant life.
Yes, it’s personal—God knows your name, your doubts, your hopes. But it’s also bigger than you. The Bible’s covenants—from Noah to Moses to Christ—always involve a community with a purpose. Israel’s whole identity was wrapped up in being God’s covenant people, even when they stumbled. The early church got it too, sharing everything and growing together (Acts 2:44-47). That’s not just a personal relationship; that’s religion lived out in the real world.
Why Covenant Matters
So why does this matter? Because leaning too hard on “relationship” alone can miss what God’s after. Covenant means we’re not just in this for ourselves. We’re tied to each other—responsible to help, forgive, and carry burdens. Galatians 6:2 says, “Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ” (NLT). That’s not optional; it’s the covenant at work. The phrase might sell books or fill pews, but it’s too small for the God who calls a nation, not just a fan club.
Reframing the Faith
Christianity is a religion, no question about it.
Christianity is a relationship, that is absolutely correct.
Christianity is a covenant relationship—personal and communal, intimate and expansive. Maybe the saying needs a rewrite: “Christianity isn’t just a religion—it’s a covenant that makes us God’s people.”
Less catchy, that is true, but it holds the weight of the story.