Ryan's Ramblings

Labels

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17, ESV)

Have you ever felt labeled? Like someone sized you up, made a snap judgment, and dropped you into a category without giving you a real chance?

I have. And I didn’t like it.

We all use labels. Sometimes out loud, but often just in our heads. We’re always sorting—people, ideas, even ourselves—into boxes we can manage. It’s how we make sense of the world.

But labels can limit. And sometimes they carry more weight than they should. Labels like musical, athletic, artistic, business-minded… religious—they shape how we see people. Some come with admiration. Others come with baggage.

We know what it means when someone is musical. They don’t just hum a tune—they play, write, perform. Call someone athletic, and you don’t mean they jog on weekends. You mean they compete, move with ease, and excel physically. Say someone is artistic, and you picture creativity spilling out in sketches, color, beauty. A business-minded person sees opportunity, thinks strategically, and knows how to make money.

Each label points to a life—a rhythm, a way of being. But religious? That one often comes weighed down with ritual, judgment, rules and performance. Some prefer the word spiritual. It sounds more personal, more expressive. That’s why you often hear, “I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual.”

I find Eugene Peterson’s comment on Christians and religion interesting:

“In some ways Christians are the least religious people in town—there is so much that we don't believe! We don't believe in good-luck charms, in horoscopes, in fate. We don't believe the world's promises or the world's curses.”

Christians don’t live by formulas. We live by faith. We’re not defined by rituals or spiritual vibes—we’re defined by Jesus. And He didn’t come to make people religious or spiritual—He came to make us new.

We see this in Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus, one of the most spiritual—and perhaps most religious—men of His day (John 3). Nicodemus was curious—maybe even a little mystical. He came in secret at night, asked thoughtful questions, and had a teachable spirit. And he was “religious” squared—a Pharisee, a leader in the synagogue and a revered teacher in Israel. If anyone could have qualified for eternal life based on tradition, education, or moral effort, it was him.

But as Dallas Willard once wrote, “Grace is not opposed to effort; it’s opposed to earning.”

Nicodemus had the résumé, the training, the reputation, but Jesus wasn’t impressed. He was after something deeper.

“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” (John 3:3, NIV)

No accolades. No performance. Not more awakened. Just… “born again.” That phrase might sound dramatic—even outdated—but it’s at the very heart of the gospel.

Tim Keller put it simply: “You don’t earn being born. You don’t contribute to it. It just… happens. It’s grace.”

And so it is with salvation. Jesus didn’t offer Nicodemus a better version of his spiritual life. He offered him grace—a new life, rooted in Himself.

The Spirit’s work in us isn’t to make us impressive. It’s to make us new. And not just on Sundays, or when we pray, or do something “sacred.” Jesus is after all of it—the spreadsheets and the dishes, the wins and the losses, our time and our tears. He wants us to live a life so full of Him that it spills into everything.

That’s what it means to be a Christian. Not religious. Not spiritual. But real… alive in Him. Born again—not better behaved. New creations—not upgraded versions of our old selves.

Christian isn’t a label, a category, or a checkbox. It’s a life that points—clearly, humbly, unmistakably—to Jesus. 

I don’t like labels. But that’s one I’ll welcome.