"Jesus > Religion" by Jefferson Bethke
Being the book lover that I am,
when I saw an application to pre-read and review Jefferson Bethke’s book “Jesus
> Religion” available on October 7th, I didn’t think twice about
signing up. I figured I wouldn’t get asked…considering I hadn’t blogged since
March, and my last post was a recipe… (scrambled eggs, anyone? …yeah, not
relevant to books!). So I’m as shocked as you to be given this opportunity.
Other than a free PDF I am not being compensated, so rest assured my words are
not being paid for.
If you don’t know who Jefferson Bethke is, he
wrote the YouTube script for “Why I hate Religion, but love Jesus,” which had
over 12 million views in the span of 12 hours. While Bethke had meant to speak to maybe 100 peers at his college…his video went viral instead. Talk about God having
another plan. Click here for a link to Jefferson's videos!
“The paradox of
the Scripture is that it calls us way more sinful than we think we are,
and it
calls us way more loved than we think we are.”
-
Jefferson Bethke, Jesus
> Religion
This book isn’t about Bethke.
It isn’t about you (as the reader).
This book isn’t about hating religion. (In fact, Bethke
spends quite a few pages on defining what he meant by hating religion, for
those of you who found this confusing.)
It IS about a homeless, rumored-to-be-born-illegitimate man
who lived in Nazareth 2,000 years ago. A man who raised controversy with the practiced
religion of his time, who was brutally killed for no crime committed & who
said and did things that no man could
accomplish.
It
IS about why his resurrected life means everything to yours and mine and Bethke’s.
This book IS about Jesus, Son of God.
I was humbled by how vulnerable Bethke was in intertwining
the grace of the cross with his own story. He grew up in a broken home just
above the poverty line, was addicted to pornography for 8 years, admitted to
feeling suicidal at the end of a serious relationship, and even shares a personal
story of choosing sin after becoming
a Christian:
One night during my
sophomore year of college, God
decided to show me just
how inadequate I was to fight my own
sin and just how
powerful his grace was to break that sin. I was
sitting on the couch in
my room playing Halo 3, but quickly
became bored. Lustful
thoughts started to call my name. I
knew I shouldn’t give
in, but there was still a part of me that
thought, Who cares? What’s a little fun? No
one will know.
So I texted a girl I
had previously had a completely physical
relationship with. She
said she wasn’t doing anything and
wanted to hang out, so
I drove over to her house with us both
knowing what our
intentions were. Even while driving there,
I felt this cosmic
battle waging in my soul. Part of me deeply
wanted it, but another
part of me knew there was something
better and tried to
convince me that sex wouldn’t bring the
satisfaction it
promised. Ultimately, I went through with it.
Rather than seeing her
as another soul made in the image of
God, I saw her as an
object. Rather than trusting that God
actually wanted to
bring me deeper joy, I thought I knew better
what would make me
happy.
I’ll never forget the
feeling when I got home. I felt hollow,
sick, dirty. I was a
Christian now. I
knew better. I
wasn’t
supposed to do that
anymore! On top of that, I felt even
more shame because I
had planned what I did and had many
opportunities to say
no. I’d never had this happen before,
and I’ve never had it
happen since. The shame and guilt
were so palpable that I
literally became sick. I stayed up until
six o’clock that
morning throwing up, feeling so dirty and
worthless and thinking
I had completely failed God and that
he must
hate me now.
I thought, What’s more evil? Being blind and
living in ignorance,
or knowing what is
right and still doing what is wrong? I
had known
it was wrong, but I did it anyway.
I was just
lying there, swimming in my own shame and
guilt, when this still,
small voice whispered into the depths of
my soul:
I love you.
I desire you.
I delight in you.
I saw you were going to
do that before I went to the
cross, and I still
went.
I had a feeling of
utter quiet and peace. I didn’t hear those
words in my ears, but
felt them whispered into the depths of
my bones. Immediately,
relief and the epiphany that I hadn’t
surprised God rushed
over me. I hadn’t caught him off guard.
When Jesus went to the
cross, he saw all I’ll ever be, all I’ll
ever do (including
that), and all I’ll ever want outside of him;
but he joyfully came
and got me (Hebrews 12: 1-2).
He looked down and
said, “I want that one.”
I couldn’t earn it, and
I don’t deserve it. But he freely loves
me and gave me grace.
Not only did I not deserve his love in
that moment, but if
anything, I deserved the opposite. But he
chose to let his beauty
and splendor pour out of him and into my ugliness.
That’s when it hit me:
God’s grace isn’t nice and cute. It’s scandalous.
-Chapter 8 of Jesus > Religion
I am grateful for Bethke’s book and the transparency he has
with admitting his failures and his need for grace. It takes humility to come
to the cross, and it takes humility to stay at its foot. And it took Real
Humility, a perfect God dying for
imperfect man-- to make each of us a
new creation. Isn’t it beautiful?!
Here is one last
quote from Bethke’s book that cut straight to my heart:
“All of us have become
like one who is unclean,
and all our righteous
acts are like filthy rags.” –Isaiah 64:6
“We often miss that our
“righteous acts” are “filthy” before God.
Not just our bad days,
but our extremely good days too! Praying, reading
the Bible, giving to
the poor, and going to church nine times a
week? Filthy rags apart
from Jesus and his cross. Tell me that
isn’t just a little bit
controversial. And if that God isn’t shocking enough
for you, author Francis
Chan shares in his book Crazy
Love that the
Hebrew
word for “filthy rags”
can be interpreted as “menstrual garments.”
In that verse God says
our good works are no better
than a bloody tampon.
Next time you’re in a public restroom
and you see the waste
can, feel free to remind yourself that’s
your righteousness
apart from Jesus. (Gross, I know.)”
- Jesus > Religion, Chapter 1
Wow. That just put my
whole life in perspective.
My good works are
bloody tampons. Your good works are….bloody tampons.
Are you thinking: EWW
GROSS NEW MENTAL IMAGE NOW!?
I know I am!! But my
heart needs to hear this: the truth of Scripture. Otherwise, I’ll start
thinking 22 is a good amount of years to draw out my own wisdom and that living
for me is the only thing life is for.
I hope that struck you
as visually disgusting and prompted your heart to awe-struck appreciation of
the beautiful, scandalous grace that
is offered freely in Christ.
And I hope it makes you curious to hear what Bethke has to say
in his book.
Whether you are a believer who speaks Greek and Hebrew with
fluency, or simply someone curious about this controversial homeless Jesus dude
who Bethke can’t keep his mouth shut about….this
book is relevant to you.
I pray you don’t stop reading my blog here and forget that you were interested in hearing more about Jesus (or learning more, if you are a believer!). Read the Scriptures for yourself.
Read books like Bethke’s. Pray. Don’t settle for coping with addictions, with
depression, with anxiety, or with guilt. Jesus didn’t die for the sake of
suffering….he suffered so that you and I may live. And not for ourselves but
for HIM.
If we’re doing the star system, I’d give Bethke’s book a 4.3 out of 5. There were several times that
Scripture was paraphrased, and while Bethke’s interpretation was accurate and
worded beautifully…there is something about hearing the direct Word of God that
has a more lasting impact.
All in all, this is a book very
worthy of my time and your time. Click here to learn more about the book or to pre-order "Jesus > Religion."
Praying that you and I have seeking
hearts. And reading hearts. ;)
“Ask and it will be
given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.
8 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be
opened.9 –Matthew 7: 7-9
~ (Obviously) I'm not the photographer of the book cover! :) Retrieved from Jefferson Bethke.