Chapter 1: Not What You Think

If we’re going to suggest God as the ultimate and highest aim possible, we should make sure we’re on common ground before building on that. Many people assume God and religion are interchangeable, but there are important distinctions and common misconceptions about both. Addressing these up front will give us more sure footing moving forward.

I grew up in a less culturally diverse area of the country than most—predominantly Scandinavian ancestry in a community much the same. Believing in God was common and generally accepted without much conflict, but Scandinavians rarely talked about God like He was real or personal. The term “religion” was much more comfortable and commonly used.

“What religion are you?” That was the most daring way to begin a conversation about spiritual matters. Where I grew up, you were either Lutheran or Catholic. There were other denominational monikers in the mix as well—Baptist, Methodist, Assembly of God, and a few others. But that was essentially my worldview at the time.

My family didn't go to church frequently, so I never truly felt like I belonged to a specific church. Occasionally my parents would drop me off for Sunday school, but it was so intermittent that they would often sing the song “There's a Welcome Here” each time. A well-intentioned effort to make me feel, well, welcome, that probably had the opposite effect after the second or third time. It only reminded me I wasn’t in yet and thus always felt like an outsider.

I remember asking my mom once what religion we were, presuming we must be either Lutheran or Catholic (and I was pretty sure we weren’t Catholic). She said we were neither and said we were Protestant.

What? Another label?

She explained that the two main ones were Protestant and Catholic and that we were Protestant.

The church she grew up in was the Evangelical Free Church. My dad grew up in a Grace Lutheran Church (an Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, or ELCA). Both had their roots in a Scandinavian version of those denominations from the early 1900s. That said, neither of my parents emphasized or modeled attending church regularly to me growing up.

All those labels and distinctions? They meant almost nothing to me as a kid. And honestly, I’m not sure they should have. The deeper questions we’re exploring in this book are more universal—Who made me? Why am I here? What gives life meaning? Those seem more important than denominational boundaries or religious labels.

A quick clarification before we continue: I’m going to make the case for Christianity specifically—for the God revealed in the Bible and what He’s done through Jesus Christ. But I’m not claiming God only shows up where Christian theology does. The God who created every person is pursuing every person. Other religious traditions wrestle with the same fundamental questions about purpose, meaning, and transcendence.

My conviction is that Christianity offers the fullest revelation of who God is, but I also believe God’s reach extends beyond our theological boundaries. The core choice has always been the same: relationship with our Creator, or reliance on ourselves. We’ll explore the question of “which religion?” more in Chapter 3, but for now, when I say, “the God who created you,” I mean the God who created all of us—working in ways that transcend our religious categories.

What Christianity Isn't

Let me be clear about what I’m NOT talking about when I suggest aiming your life at God:

I’m not talking about moralism. Christianity isn’t about being a “good person” or following a moral code so you can earn your way to heaven. It’s not about checking boxes, avoiding certain behaviors, or maintaining a respectable image. That’s religion—a human attempt to reach God through our own effort.

I’m also not talking about cultural Christianity. You know the type—people who identify as Christian because they grew up in church, celebrate Christmas and Easter, or live in a “Christian nation.” Maybe they can recite a few Bible verses or prayers, but there’s no real relationship with God. It’s their heritage, not their heart-felt, lived-out faith.

I’m not talking about rule-following or church membership.

Yes, the Bible contains commands and principles for living. But if you think Christianity is primarily about obeying rules, you’ve missed the point entirely. Rules can’t transform your heart. They really only expose what’s already there.

And going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than sitting in a restaurant makes you a chef. Proximity isn’t participation. Church can be a wonderful community and support system, but attendance isn’t the goal—relationship with God is.

So what AM I talking about?

What Christianity Actually Is

At its core, Christianity is about relationship—a personal, dynamic relationship with the God who created you and loves you beyond measure.

It’s about recognizing that you were designed for something more than you’re currently experiencing. That the restlessness you feel, the sense that “there must be more than this”—that's not a flaw in your design. It’s a feature. You were made for connection with your Creator.

Here’s the revolutionary part: God doesn’t need your religious performance. He wants YOU.

Not the cleaned-up version. Not the “I've got it all together” facade. Not the morally superior, rule-following, church-attending version you think He demands.

He wants the real you. The messy, broken, searching, doubting, struggling you. Because relationship can’t exist with a mask. It requires honesty, vulnerability, and trust.

I remember when this finally clicked for me. I’d read a version of a book series titled Power for Living that contained testimonials from various celebrities or professional athletes arguing for the Christian faith. In particular there was the testimony of former NFL Hall of Fame player Reggie White, legendary Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry, and former President Nixon aide Chuck Colson. All people I’d heard of, from different backgrounds and walks of life. They were all describing real encounters with God—not religious duty, but actual relationship.

Upon finished that book, standing in my third-story apartment living room, looking out over an open field, something shifted. It wasn’t new information; it was truth dropping from my head to my heart. An a-ha moment. The intellectual understanding I’d carried about God suddenly became a living connection with God.

This is why Jesus spent more time with “sinners” than religious people. Why He reserved His harshest words for the Pharisees—the religious elite who had all the right answers but no real relationship with God. Why He welcomed the outcasts, the broken, the ones who knew they needed help.

The religious people thought their rule-following made them righteous. The “sinners” knew better—they knew they needed help. And that honesty, that raw awareness of need, was the doorway to relationship.

Harm Done in God's Name

I need to acknowledge something before we go further: A lot of damage has been done by people claiming to represent God.

Churches have covered up abuse. Religious leaders have exploited the vulnerable. Denominations have excluded and condemned people based on race, gender, sexuality, and countless other categories. Wars have been fought, violence justified, and hatred spread—all in the name of God.

If you’ve been hurt by the church or by Christians, I’m truly sorry. Your pain is real, and your anger is justified. The people who hurt you were wrong—not just in their actions, but in their representation of who God is and what He desires.

Please hear this: The hypocrisy you’ve witnessed, the judgment you’ve experienced, the harm that’s been done—none of that reflects the heart of God. It reflects broken people using religion as a weapon instead of receiving it as a gift.

God’s desire has always been relationship, not religion. Love, not law. Mercy, not judgment.

When Jesus walked the earth, He spent most of His time challenging the religious system of His day. He called out the hypocrisy, the self-righteousness, the way religion had become a barrier between people and God instead of a bridge.

So if you’ve rejected Christianity because of what Christians have done, I understand. But I’m asking you to reconsider something: What if the Christianity you’ve rejected isn’t actually Christianity at all? What if it’s just religion wearing a Christian label?

The Real Question

Here’s what I'm inviting you to consider:

What if there’s something beyond the religion you’ve seen or experienced? What if the God you’ve been introduced to—distant, demanding, disappointed—isn’t the real God at all?

What if the highest aim available to you isn’t about being good enough, doing enough, or believing the right things? What if it’s about discovering the relationship you were designed for—one that transforms everything else in your life?

Before you decide whether to aim your life at God, you need to know the God we’re talking about. And you need to understand the source of truth that reveals Him.

But how do we know any of this is true? If the Bible is our source for understanding who God is, can we actually trust it? That’s the question we tackle next—and it matters more than you might think.

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