In the journey we’ve taken so far, we’ve examined the evidence of the supernatural, the existence of God, the presence of intelligent design in creation, the necessity of religion, and the reality that God has indeed revealed Himself.
Now we come to a crucial question: If God has revealed Himself, and religion is how we come to know and respond to that revelation, then which religion fulfills this goal?
If religion reconciles man to God, then the religion that does so truly and consistently must be the one worth giving our lives to.
And if only one religion is genuinely from God, then every other system — no matter how well-intentioned — falls short in ways that ultimately matter.
At its heart, religion is not about moral rules, community activities, or spiritual practices — though these may accompany it. The true purpose of religion is to heal the severed relationship between Creator and creature.
It is about the return of man to God, the restoration of what we lost in the Fall, and the possibility of eternal union with the One who made us.
If that is the goal, then we must ask: Which religion does this?
Not superficially, not symbolically, not metaphorically — but truly and historically.
If God is real and has revealed Himself, the religion that flows from that revelation must do at least three things:
It must not only speak truth but be truth in action, with a traceable history, preserved teachings, and spiritual power that persists over time.
Suppose we accept that God is truly omnipotent, infinite, and perfect, and that man is fallen, finite, and sinful. In that case, we must also accept that there exists an immeasurable gap, a separation, between God and man.
That separation cannot be crossed by human effort alone, no matter how sincere. Nor can an all-powerful God simply ignore justice to show mercy.
A just God must be both merciful and just. A holy God cannot unite Himself with sin.
So what, then, is the solution?
Many religions try to answer this question by asking man to ascend to God through enlightenment, strict obedience, or mystical detachment. But these attempts fall short, not because the human desire is wrong, but because the task is impossible.
A creature cannot become the Creator. The finite cannot attain the infinite. The burden of reconciliation cannot fall on us, for we do not have the strength or the righteousness to carry it.
This is disrespectful and blasphemous to the all-powerful creator of the universe. To diminish His power in such a way by believing that humans can attain it. If humans can do such a thing, then why would we need God?
On the other hand, some might imagine God simply overlooking our sin or diminishing His justice in the name of love. But an all-holy God cannot contradict Himself.
He cannot violate His nature. If God is perfect, then both His justice and His mercy must be perfect — and they must meet in harmony, not contradiction.
Only one solution remains. And it is the very heart of the Christian faith:
God Himself must descend — without ceasing to be God — and take on our nature.
Many religions offer admirable insights or beautiful practices. Some emphasize peace, others duty, others mysticism. Yet when measured against the goal of reconciliation with a personal, holy God, they ultimately fall short.
All of these systems, in various ways, reflect humanity's attempt to reach God. But Christianity is different — because it is God reaching down to man.
Christianity is not merely a set of teachings. It is a historical claim: that God entered human history as a man — Jesus of Nazareth — and in His life, death, and resurrection, reconciled the world to Himself.
It is not a metaphor. It is not an ideal or a myth. It is an event.
What makes Christianity unique — and worthy of being a religion to examine — is that it offers:
Christianity claims not to be a path to enlightenment or self-perfection, but the path of salvation through the God who saves.
The path is the miracle of the Incarnation. In Jesus Christ, God becomes man while remaining God. He takes on a real human nature, experiences real human suffering, lives a real human life — and yet remains the eternal Word through whom the universe was created.
In His death, Jesus bears the penalty of sin with perfect obedience and divine love. In His resurrection, He opens the gates of life to those who could never open them themselves.
No other religion makes this claim. No other worldview offers such a union of mercy and justice.
No other savior is both God enough to save us and human enough to represent us.
Jesus is not half-God and half-man. He is fully God and fully man. In Him, the infinite meets the finite, the eternal steps into time, and the Creator walks among His creatures — not in disguise, but in real flesh.
This union is not just symbolic, but our salvation:
Christianity is not simply another religion, but the fulfillment of religion: not our search for God, but God’s coming to us, in love, through Jesus Christ.
If Christianity claims to be the fulfillment of all religious longings, then it must be held to a high standard. And it can be:
To examine Christianity is not to take a leap into the dark, but to step into the light of evidence, history, and grace.
When one religion claims that God Himself has come, we must examine that religion above all. Not because we assume it is true, but because if it is true, then no other religion can offer what it does.
Christianity either rises above the rest as the culmination of all religion, or it falls with them. But it cannot be treated as just another option in the spiritual marketplace. Its claims are too direct. Too bold. Too costly.
Only Christianity, from the beginning, has claimed that God became man so that man can unite with God.
If Jesus is who He says He is — the Son of God, the Savior of the world — then no other religion can be equal to Him. And if He is not, then Christianity is discarded.
But what if He is?
That is the question worth exploring. That is the true goal of religion. And that is where our search must go — into the heart of the Christian faith.
May God bless you.