There are rhythms to certain relationships that are not only enjoyable, but indicators of good health. In my marriage, it’s making coffee for myself and my husband (he still doesn’t quite understand the French press) in the morning, which we sip in our home library as our daughter races her toy cars across the carpet. He leaves me little notes or texts me throughout the day when he’s at work: “A lot” (our code for “I love you,” which is engraved on the inside of my wedding band).
When I think of the expression “It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship” as a descriptor for the Christian journey with Christ, this picture of my morning routine comes to mind. We do these things out of love for each other, not mere obligation, or “going through the motions.” These are outward demonstrations of a covenant that already exists. Our marriage would thrive just as well without coffee or notes.
My relationship with God thrives with regular prayer and Bible reading, even though there’s no set threshold to meet for the amount of time I “should” spend doing either. Most Christians would be quick to say that that’s not the point, and they would be right.
Somehow, the unique devices we may use to express love in this particular relationship – rosaries, keeping a sabbath, going to a Bible study – have been demoted to “religion,” as if that’s a bad thing. “Religion” has become a dirty word in many circles, synonymous with legalism and shallow demonstrations of piety.
With God, as with our spouses, there will be inevitable dry spells and moments of feeling “stuck.” The routines that once provided joy may feel dull and lifeless. Some people may be advised to take a break, create new ones, or give them up entirely.
But just as marriages need structure to thrive (think date nights or monthly check-ins with a marriage counselor), so does a relationship with God. The more I explore ancient liturgies, the more I realize that “religion” is the mechanism of that relationship. It’s the pot that holds in the soil that sustains the environment needed for a plant to thrive. We wouldn’t say that houseplants are restricted in freedom because they aren’t exposed to the unpredictable elements outdoors.
The beautiful thing is that one is not required to pray a rosary specifically, or read a certain number of Bible passages per day, in order to thrive with God. My husband doesn’t need to send a minimum number of “A lot” texts to remind me that he loves me. The beautiful thing is when the message arrives unexpectedly, when I know he’s busy at work.
The structure of a healthy relationship ebbs and flows with time, jobs, children who won’t sleep, and many other things. But the structure, the covenant, is why it endures. Far from being restrictive, it sets a healthy parameter that holds love in while keeping unhealthy influences out.
Perhaps certain expressions of love or worship come with baggage for you; that’s okay. The important thing is to develop your own structure, your own routine, your own “A lot” texts. Far from feeling restrictive, these expressions of devotion promote freedom and life.
Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash
