Religion Uses God; Faith Gives Itself to God

In today’s digital world, faith is easily reduced to a quick fix. Nearly all people use social media, and more than one‑third of young people report being “almost constantly” online. While these platforms connect us, experts warn that constant scrolling contributes to anxiety, loneliness, and depression. It can therefore be tempting to approach God as another means of self‑help. Jeremiah’s words invite us to break from this transactional mindset and rediscover relational faith.

Jeremiah ministered during Judah’s final decades. After Solomon’s idolatry, the nation split; Jeroboam set up golden calves in the north, prompting God to send Amos and Hosea. Despite warnings, Israel fell to Assyria. Judah, though blessed with reforming kings like Hezekiah and Josiah, largely ignored God. Empty rituals continued while injustice flourished.

Jeremiah confronted the illusion that religious practice guarantees divine favor. He proclaimed, “Reform your ways and your actions, and I will let you live in this place” (Jer 7:3). He exposed the emptiness of repeating slogans: This is the temple of the LORD,” while neglecting the poor (Jer 7:4–7). He accused them: “My people have committed two sins: they have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns” (Jer 2:13). The people pursued fertility gods for crops and Asherah for family, using Yahweh as a talisman. False prophets like Hananiah promised quick relief without repentance (Jer 28:2).

True faith, Jeremiah insisted, values relationship over transaction. God desires justice, mercy, and obedience rather than sacrifice for its own sake. Empty ritual is the hallmark of religion, while heartfelt trust marks faith. When our hearts rest in God, we recognize that he himself is the blessing.

For contemporary believers, the danger is similar. Consumer culture encourages us to treat God like a vending machine: pray, attend church, serve, and then expect immediate benefits. Prosperity teaching reinforces this mentality, promising wealth and health as proofs of faith. Yet when circumstances remain difficult, we blame our lack of faith or God’s reluctance. Jeremiah exposes the bankruptcy of this approach. He calls us to a faith that offers itself wholly to God, trusting him in both abundance and scarcity.

Religion uses God; faith offers itself to God. Religion begins in scarcity; faith begins in abundance. Religious living begins with what we lack, but true faith begins with what we have already received. Religion clings to what has not yet been given; faith lives freely. Religion fixates on what is missing; faith treasures what is present. As Paul wrote, “We are sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Cor. 6:10). We too can live this way, trusting God even when we don’t see outcomes, rejoicing in lack as much as in plenty.

I know this personally. For years I prayed for physical healing after my accident. I studied Scripture, prayed, repented, obeyed, but healing did not come. Instead came guilt, frustration, and despair. I asked, “God, why won’t You heal me? What else must I do?” Through that long wrestling, God reshaped my understanding of faith. He showed me that the purpose of life is not to get what I want but to know him and walk with him. True faith is not oppression but freedom, not calculation but love, not condition but devotion.

The pressure to project happiness can make us feel inadequate when our lives don’t match curated images. This comparison culture tempts us to use religion as a tool for self‑enhancement. Jeremiah’s message challenges that impulse. He reminds us that the living God cannot be manipulated or bartered with. He seeks a covenant relationship, not ritual transactions. When we approach him as the source of life rather than a means to an end, our faith becomes vibrant. It frees us from measuring God’s goodness by our circumstances. Instead, we can say with Jeremiah that even in exile or hardship, God’s presence is our greatest reward. May we, as navigating a noisy world, choose to offer ourselves to God and trust that he alone can satisfy us.