My Personal Jesus
- A Modern Invention -
“Waking up to reality is like emerging from a dark cave into sunlight — at first, the light burns and blinds, but gradually, your eyes adjust, and you see the world as it truly is.” - Ancient man with a grey beard, also known as Plato.
For many modern Christians, especially in the evangelical and charismatic traditions that I come from, Christianity is best summarised by one deeply personal claim:
“I have a personal relationship with Jesus.”
This simple phrase has become the cornerstone of contemporary Christianity. It’s used in sermons, songs, evangelism, small group devotions, and even children’s ministry and debates. It’s presented not just as the goal of Christianity, but its very definition. It is not uncommon to hear from certain circles that:
Christianity is not a religion, but a personal relationship with Jesus.
Now, before I go any further I need to state that I was one of these people who claimed to have a personal relationship with Jesus and expected everyone to have the same. But in my ’old-age’, my Christian-self has come to see things differently and here is why.
A Personal Relationship
A personal relationship is generally defined by emotional closeness, mutual trust, voluntary and ongoing interaction, reciprocity, shared experiences, and a sense of commitment or loyalty. Is this really the type of relationship that many claim to have with Jesus?
Some honest questions:
Where does this idea actually come from?
Does the Bible teach it?
Did Jesus or Paul speak this way?
Did the early church think of Jesus in personal, relational terms?
And perhaps even more challengingly:
What kind of “relationship” is it, if it’s with someone you never see, never audibly hear, and can never truly verify?
How is this relationship in fact ‘personal’ in any way?
This article takes a brief look at where the idea of having a 'personal relationship with Jesus' came from, why it speaks so strongly to modern Western believers, and how—despite its emotional appeal—it may actually misrepresent both Jesus’ original message and the faith of the earliest Christians."
Jesus’ earliest followers
Unfortunately we don’t have any writings of the close disciples of Jesus’ earthly ministry, but it would not be a stretch to think of them as having a relationship with Jesus, that was in some ways at least ‘personal’. He asked them to follow him - they did - and a friendship might have developed. But these select few belong to their own category of Jesus-followers: Those that accompanied him during his earthly ministry.
We do have some writings from Paul, but he never knew the earthly Jesus. He never ate with him, walked with him or saw him in action. Paul’s claims of ‘seeing’ and ‘receiving revelation’ from Jesus cannot be taken as personal acquaintance or a personal relationship. It is more likely that Paul thought of himself as the ‘slave’ of Jesus, as he himself claims, which in context of first-century Palestine, most probably excluded a personal relationship.
The writers of the later gospels (30-65 years after Jesus) also never really mention the need for or requirement of a personal relationship with an ‘ascended’ Jesus. To them the ascended Jesus was Lord, Messiah, Saviour, Son of God and they needed to know him in this way. The modern phrase of ‘personal saviour’ or ’personal relationship’ did not feature at all. The language used by the earliest Christians was much more formal and communal.
Jesus announces a Kingdom, not a Relationship
Jesus never said that he wanted to have a personal relationship. What he actually proclaimed was the coming Kingdom of God—a message soaked in prophetic urgency and Jewish expectation. He wanted people to follow his message. Two of today’s most prominent and most prolific Christian New Testaments scholars seem to agree on this key point:
“Jesus was not offering people a new private spirituality. He was summoning them to become part of a new movement—one that fulfilled the ancient promises of Israel and launched God’s reign into history.” - N.T. Wright (Simply Jesus, p. 90)
“We have reduced the gospel to a private decision and a personal feeling. But the New Testament gospel is about Jesus being enthroned as King. It is about allegiance, not sentimentality.” - Scot McKnight - (The King Jesus Gospel, p. 37)
The Bible
We often quote verses like “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” to support the idea of inviting Jesus into your heart. But this is a misreading. In context, Jesus is rebuking the church and it is a metaphor about communal repentance, not personal intimacy. Even Paul’s famous tropes ‘Christ in me’ or ‘in Christ’ is not relational in a sentimental sense. It refers to mystical (spiritual) identification with Christ’s death and resurrection, not an interpersonal friendship.
All the scriptures I used to use to support a personal relationship with Jesus, can easily be placed in one of the following disqualifying categories:
They are directed to those who actually followed Jesus around Galilee and Judea;
They speak of a mystical union in terms of metaphor;
Their ‘call to know’ is obviously in general terms.
Moreover, when we examine the theology of the early church, especially in figures like Ignatius of Antioch or Clement of Rome, their language is liturgical, communal, and hierarchical—not relational in the modern sense. The language of a ‘personal relationship’ is foreign to the New Testament and the early church. If this is true, why is this claim so important to modern evangelicals? How did it come to be?
The common explanation is that it reflects our later and modern individualism in the West much more than anything drawn from Biblical categories. This modern notion is then retrojectively read back into the Scriptures by taking Bible passages out of context and re-interpreting them in light of these more modern convictions in order to substantiate the claim. (We seem to be experts at this kind of retrospective imposition). This leads to a sobering realisation: even the most zealous, Bible-quoting Christians are often shaped more by cultural assumptions than by the actual content of Scripture—a topic we’ll return to another time.
How did we get here?
The shift toward relational, emotional Christianity accelerated during the 18th- and 19th-century revivals, particularly in America. Figures like John Wesley, Charles Finney, and later Billy Graham made personal decision and emotional response the core of conversion. The phrase “accept Jesus as your personal Savior” is a revivalist shorthand that emerged in the 20th century, especially in the context of mass evangelism and altar calls.
And my friends, many of us were shaped by that very era. From childhood, it was deeply ingrained in us: you must accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, and then have a personal relationship with Him. By the time we reached adulthood, it was almost impossible to see faith any other way. We even looked down on other denominations for lacking what we believed we had. They had religion — but we had a personal relationship. For this, I offer a sincere and public apology today.
Today, worship songs often romanticise Jesus, with lyrics like “I’m desperate for you,” “I want to sit at your feet,” or “Jesus, lover of my soul.” These are emotional expressions, shaped by cultural trends of intimacy and self-disclosure—not theological exegesis.
Richard Beck, a psychologist and Christian blogger, takes a slightly satirical approach by calling this phenomenon “Jesus is my boyfriend” theology:
“We’ve romanticised faith so much that Jesus now plays the role of intimate partner rather than crucified king.” - Experimental Theology blog, 2015
But beyond theology, the emotional impact of this ‘requirement’ runs deep. Christians do not often speak out about the effect that this grandiose expectation - to have ‘personal relationship with Jesus’- has had on them. Although it is becoming more common today. They end up feeling abandoned and unworthy when their experience doesn't match the dramatic stories shared by some of their more enthusiastic fellow church members. And who in any Pentecostal, Charismatic church of the early 21st century, would dare to get up and say that they don’t feel like they have a personal relationship with Jesus. The suspicion it would arouse would be detrimental to their relationship with the community and its echo chamber - not to mention their eternal fate.
It is primarily for these Christians that I risk writing this post - The quiet ones…
Valerie Tarico, a former evangelical and psychologist, takes a hard line on the issue and explains:
“The illusion of a relationship with Jesus is maintained through emotional reinforcement—music, community, repetition. But the relationship is one-sided. The only voice you hear is your own.” - Tarico, Psychology Today, 2014.
These are really hard words to ingest. (Even as I proofread this again, it leaves a knot in my stomach) My gut response to this was to immediately quote ancient Scriptures to discredit the discipline of modern psychology, but I later realised that demonising others to invalidate their viewpoints, revealed my inner doubts and weaknesses.
And what really bothers me now as I think back on my spiritual journey, is that all the things I claimed to know about Jesus in my ‘personal relationship’ was basically an extrapolation and interpretation of what I already read in the Bible.
The Bible is the source for the information - not the relationship.
None of the information about Jesus is new or personal. I realise that I know Jesus through the Scriptures.
The Psychology of an inner Relationship
Another hard question: What kind of “relationship” is it when only one party ever speaks, shows up, or acts? In any other context, a relationship that feels completely one-sided would be called imaginary. Is this the case? Many Christians report profound feelings of intimacy with Jesus. They talk to him. They feel him guiding them. Some even claim to hear his voice or feel his presence. So did I.
Psychologists and neuroscientists have studied this phenomenon for decades. One explanation is that these experiences are a form of projected internal dialogue—something all humans do, especially under emotional stress. Overly Religious people may interpret their own internal monologue as divine speech.
Does this mean that the claim of not having ‘a religion’ but ‘a personal relationship with Jesus’ is a logical paradox? - that only the overly religious could attribute the presence of another person to their own internal dialogue? I don’t know. But it does make whole lot of sense now in hindsight.
Neuroscientist Andrew Newberg, in his book Why God Won’t Go Away, explains:
“Religious experiences are not necessarily hallucinations. But they are real in the sense that they activate the same neural pathways we use for interpersonal experiences.”
(Newberg & D’Aquili, Why God Won’t Go Away, p. 101)
In other words, what feels like Jesus responding may actually be your brain simulating social interaction, using the same cognitive machinery you’d use to talk to a friend or even yourself. This doesn’t mean people are lying or faking it. It just means the “relationship” might be internally generated, shaped by environment, belief and religious expectations. This isn’t to say people’s experiences aren’t valid. They are.
It also doesn’t suggest that the feelings are fake. Just that they are not necessarily evidence of a reciprocal relationship with an external person. They might be psychological artefacts of upbringing, repetition, suggestion, spiritual longing and indoctrination.
Finally
If Christianity is based on the Biblical Scriptures, and those alone - as Protestants hold - the idea of a personal relationship with Jesus should at the very least not be a requirement for ‘salvation’ or ‘entrance into the Kingdom of God’ or for anyone to feel fully part of the Christian community. I think some have gone too far and have reached way beyond the plumb line we ourselves confirm.
This post is for the quiet ones…
Those who wrestle with feelings of inadequacy, all while sitting among others who seem to flourish in their ‘personal relationship’ with Jesus;
Those who started realising that what they were taught, is not supported by the Scriptures they hold dear, but are hesitant to speak out for fear of rejection and judgement from their religious community;
Those who feel excluded and trumped by the extravagant claims of other more ‘spiritual’ Christians;
Those who started doubting themselves and even ventured into imagining the relationship into being, but were unable to maintain it against their better judgement and conscience;
Those that still fear for their eternal fate based on their inability to have a real and personal relationship with someone who lived 2000 years ago.
“Waking up to reality is like emerging from a dark cave into sunlight — at first, the light burns and blinds, but gradually, your eyes adjust, and you see the world as it truly is.” - The same ancient Greek man I quoted at the top.


I wish I had this years ago! For so many years, I thought something was wrong with me, that my effort wasn’t enough. Since leaving behind some of these—in my opinion, harmful—doctrines, I have found a spirituality in the experience of being human, right here, in this moment, marveling in awe of this experience we get to have. I’ve found a freedom I never had before.
Thanks for having the courage to write things like this for the quiet ones.
This is super well said, well researched, and so very necessary. Thank you for saying the things that need to be said! “Detoxing” is exactly the right word for what the journey of leaving fundamentalism feels like.