Transcription
The top three religions of the world based on the number of followers are Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism. We also have Judaism, Buddhism, Sikism, Taoism, the Baháʼí Faith, Scientology, Rastafarianism, and Jainism. Don't forget about the gods from Greek, Norse, Roman, and Egyptian mythologies, as well as the multiple cults and denominations within said religions.
So, which religion is true? If any of them are true at all? Maybe you've asked that question before. Or maybe you've wondered, where did we come from? Why do we exist? And what happens when we die? These are questions that humans have been asking since the beginning. And they're the very questions that religions and belief systems have been trying to answer for just as long.
I've struggled with these questions for years. But I've come to an answer. And I want to share the thought process that has led me to that answer. So, is there one true religion? I believe there is. In fact, I believe there are actually two true religions.
Now, before we start comparing religions, we first have to ask, why would a religion exist in the first place? To figure out whether a religion is true or effective, we need to first understand the purpose, the end goal. Because you first have to know what a religion is trying to accomplish before you can determine if it accomplishes it or not.
In his book, *The Evolution of God*, Robert Wright suggests that religion wasn't consciously invented, but rather emerged naturally as a byproduct of human evolution. Religion helped humans to explain the unseen, to make sense of the world around them. So, when humans saw or experienced things like thunder and lightning, very, very frightening, floods and disease, and death, they began attributing these events to invisible intentional agents, spirits or gods. Say if a river flooded. Well, it was because the gods of the river were angry with the humans for whatever reason, and they flooded the river. They caused destruction and death. So, we need to now appease these gods. But as humans became more knowledgeable, as technology has advanced, we've learned how to anticipate and control the rains and flooding. So, eventually, that angry god just ceased to exist. And as culture, science, and humanity evolves, so does our understanding of the nature and the character of God or gods.
Karl Marx famously called religion the opiate of the people. In his view, religion functioned like a drug, not to explain the world, but to cope with it. Both of these perspectives of religion are still common today. And both perspectives point to a very similar assumption: that there is a deep problem humanity is trying to solve. That problem can be summed up in our universal desire to answer five foundational questions. And these questions are essentially what make up a worldview: Where did we come from? Who are we? Why do we exist? How should we live? And what happens when we die? Let's put it even more succinctly than that: Origin, identity, meaning, morality, destiny.
When we ask these deep questions, they naturally point us to something beyond ourselves, something outside of humanity. And it's not just religious people that ask these questions. It's the religious and non-religious alike. We attempt to answer these questions with religion, philosophy, or reason. If we distill it down even more, the picture is simple: Humanity on one side, some concept of the divine or a better self on the other side, and a gap in between. How each belief system attempts to bridge this gap is the standard by which we will compare them.
Now, whether it's the Eightfold Path of Buddhism, the cycles of karma in Hinduism, the Five Pillars of Islam, or the Mosaic Law of Judaism, we see that every religion has systems built around human effort to reach the other side. Christianity, by contrast, begins with the claim that we cannot earn our way to God, but that He made a way to us through grace. That reversal isn't just rare. It's unique and stands alone. I want to repeat that this claim that God came down to us and bridged the gap Himself is not found in any religion but one. Not one or two. Christianity alone.
A few weeks ago, a friend asked me if I was religious. And more recently, a younger friend, obviously younger, asked me if I was hella Christian. They were both asking me the same thing, just in different ways: Do you go to church? Do you read your Bible? Do you pray? Do you turn the other cheek? Are you a nice person? Do you give money to the poor? Do you avoid drugs and alcohol? Do you not cuss? Do you save sex for marriage? In other words, do you do the things that make someone look like a good Christian?
"Are you religious?" is a question that makes sense for every religion except Christianity. Because in every other religion, the system is based on what you must do. And on the basis of what you've done, you receive. You can say, "I'm a good Muslim," or "I'm a good Buddhist," or "I'm a good Hindu" because you follow certain practices, rituals, and moral codes. And you would be right, because in those belief systems, that's the standard by which you are judged. In every religion, the responsibility of bridging the gap between humanity and the divine falls on the human. You work, you strive, you earn. But not so in Christianity.
Christianity flips that paradigm entirely. Only in Christianity do we find the claim that God Himself took on that responsibility of bridging the gap. God came to earth, lived the perfect life that we could not live, died the death that we deserved, and He bridged the gap Himself. Ephesians 2:8-9 claims, "For it is by grace you have been saved through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast." And He didn't do this in response to our good deeds or good performance or religious behavior. Romans 5:8 says, "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." So, as a Christian, I can't say that I am a good Christian because I do this and I do that. I can only say that I am a Christian because of what God did for me.
When my friend asked me if I was hella Christian, there was another kid standing nearby who overheard my answer and he walked up to me and he asked, "So, if God did everything, then does that mean we can do whatever we want?" In other words, if salvation is a gift, what role do our actions play? What about the works? John Lennox put it this way: Every religion is merit-based where acceptance comes at the end. Only in Christianity does acceptance come at the beginning, and the works flow from that place of acceptance. So when we look at the difference between merit-based religion and grace-based religion, we see that the former offers change from the outside in, while the latter causes change from the inside out. In every religion, good works are the means by which people attempt to attain salvation. But only in true Christianity are good works the result of salvation, not the cause of it.
This doesn't mean that everyone who appears to live a Christian life truly is a Christian. Now, if you're not religious, if you consider yourself agnostic or atheist, or maybe you consider yourself spiritual but not tied to any religion, you might think that none of this applies to you. But in your case, it's not Krishna, Buddha, or Allah or Jesus that you look up to. It's you. You decide what's right and wrong. You determine how life should be lived. You become the final authority. This is why I believe that ultimately there are only two religions in the world: Christianity and the religion of self.
Now, I'm not saying that all of the religions are inherently selfish or that Christians can't be selfish. Rather, it means that every belief system outside of Christianity teaches, in one way or another, that the solution to the human condition lies within ourselves, through our effort, our enlightenment, our goodness, or our discipline. Christianity declares that the answer comes from outside of us, not through our striving, but through God's initiative, God's grace, and God's finished work.
Now, while Christianity is the only religion to make this claim, it's not that claim itself that fully convinces me. It's the implication of the claim and the complication that follows that convince me. Whether it's obeying laws, performing rituals, accumulating good deeds, or achieving enlightenment, you'll notice that the burden of being made right with the divine falls on human effort. Humans naturally build frameworks that reward effort, track performance, and create hierarchies based on behavior. And because of that, the criteria for acceptance are often visible, measurable, and understandable by human standards. And every religion but Christianity is set up this way: You do good, you get rewarded. You follow the rules, you earn approval. This suggests to me that these religions originated from human minds. While most, if not all, claim divine origin or inspiration, the structure they offer reflects a distinct human pattern: a path where acceptance or enlightenment or salvation is earned through personal effort, which aligns more with how humans naturally think and operate.
Now, Christians are not immune to this. We too can give supreme importance to our good works and find identity in them. But the difference is that by doing so, we completely miss what it means to be a Christian. Whereas other religions are right on the money. True Christianity declares that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and no amount of good works can earn right standing with God. So the solution was not to try harder, but that God Himself came down to us, lived the life that we couldn't live, died the death that we deserved, was resurrected, and then bridged the gap Himself. Thus, salvation isn't achieved, it's received. It's a message that offends our human pride. You can't earn it. You don't deserve it. And you can't say that I deserve it because of my piety or my diligence or my hard work. You can only accept what was done by Jesus Christ. And that's precisely what makes Christianity so likely to be true. If humans had invented Christianity, it would look like every other religion.
When it comes to merit-based religion, every single religion falls under merit-based religion because ultimately the answer comes from us. When it comes to grace-based religion, there is only one religion that claims that the answer comes from outside of us. If humans had written Christianity, we would have written ourselves in as the hero of the story. We'd create a system where the good are rewarded, the bad are punished, and the rules are clear. Something we can control, measure, and take credit for. But Christianity flips that script. Its central message is this: You can't save yourself, so God saved you. It doesn't flatter our pride or feed our sense of control. It doesn't sound like human invention, but divine intervention.
But here's the problem. This implication poses a huge complication. In *The Count of Monte Cristo*, Edmund Dantès escapes from wrongful imprisonment only to be washed ashore into the hands of pirates. And the crew forces him to fight a fellow pirate, Jacopo, who has stolen from the crew. The rules are simple: Fight to the death. Whoever survives gets to stay on the crew. Edmund, who is a skilled fighter, quickly overpowers Jacopo, but instead of killing him, he shows mercy and spares his life. In response, Jacopo pledges his loyalty and his life to Dantès forever.
Let's make it more relatable. If you give someone $20, you are only even until they pay you back. If you help a friend move, it's fair to expect that they'll return the favor when it's your turn. But what if someone died in your place? How much money would you have to pay to settle that debt? How many good deeds would it take to call it even? If the claim is true that salvation is not earned by works, but it is a gift from God at the cost of the life of His Son, then it presents a profound complication: the required human response.
If God truly died for us, if He paid the full price for our sins with His life and fully took on the responsibility of closing the gap, then the only appropriate response is the one Jesus Himself called for: complete and total surrender forever. In Luke 14:26-27, Jesus said, "If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." In verse 33, he goes on to say, "In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciple."
If human works played any role in our salvation, then we would have a reason to boast. We could claim some ownership over our lives and at the very least somewhat on how to live it. But because Jesus paid the full price, we no longer have any claim to our lives. He does. Jesus did not claim to be *a* way to God. He claimed to be *the* way, the truth, and the life. He didn't put himself in the same category as other great moral teachers, prophets, philosophers, or activists. He claimed to be God. And if that's true, then whatever He says about anything is the final say. And as His creation, our rightful response is complete obedience.
But this is exactly why so many reject Christ. Not because we can't believe, but because we don't want to. Surrendering to the lordship of Christ means giving up the rights to ourselves. And honestly, we don't want to do that. And trust me, if that's how you feel, I'm going to be the last one to judge you. I have prayed, "Thy will be done," with gritted teeth more than once because deep down inside, I didn't want to submit. I didn't want to obey. I wanted my way on my time. But over the years, I've learned God's ways, God's plans, and God's timing were always better than mine.
In Matthew 16:15, Jesus said, "Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for me will find it." In John 10:10, Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." Christianity is the truth, but that truth comes at a cost, and the cost is our life. But the beauty of that paradox is that in losing your life to Christ, you actually find it.
Christianity is the one true religion because of its central claim that salvation is a gift from God, not the result of human works. That claim points to divine origin and it presents a challenge: How will we respond? Jesus claimed to be the way, the truth, and the life. And if He is not Lord of all, He is not Lord at all. So today, I invite you to surrender your life to Christ. Stop trying to do things your way and respond to His calling on your life. Doing this has not magically answered all of my questions or instantly settled all of my doubts. But it put me on the path of truth and righteousness and life. You no longer have to strive to be good. But you can accept and rest in the finished work of the One who lived, died, and resurrected for you, the One and only God, Jesus Christ.
Now, I'm sure there are people who are listening to this who hear all of this and they say, "That's fantastic. It sounds really good. But this doesn't sound like any other Christians that I know." And that's what we're going to talk about in the next episode. So, my friends, if you found this video helpful, my only ask is that you share it with somebody else. And until next time, peace.