Kindness Is My Religion

A reflection on faith, formality, and why Jesus only started making sense once I stopped trying to get it all right.

I’ve always wrestled with labels.

Another thing I struggle with? Religious language. Not religion itself — but the jargon, the formality, the pressure to say the “right” words or know the “correct” names for things.

I’m the person who has to pause and think, Wait, is it a synagogue? Was it a pastor or a rabbi? I get anxious about getting it wrong — not because I’m disrespectful, but because I feel like an outsider who missed the official training.

And yet, ironically, the way I treat people — the way I try to live — is probably closer to Jesus than some of the people who’ve mastered all the titles and scripture.

Watching The Chosen changed something for me. Their portrayal of Jesus is simple, kind, real. Not buttoned up or inaccessible. Not filtered through fear or ritual. Just… human. That Jesus made sense to me.

It made me realize that I already live by the values he taught — I just never called it that before.

And maybe I don’t have to.

I’m not following a rulebook. I’m following what feels right, true, and good in how I show up in the world.

Maybe that’s what it’s always been about.

One night, I wrote this in frustration after seeing too much hate online:

I’m the person who doesn’t see things as black and white.
Not left vs. right. Not red vs. blue. Not saved vs. lost.
I find it hard to think so many of us are “taking sides” and not trying harder to keep their minds and hearts open.
I see, observe, process, and evolve.
Because everything changes — and so do I.

It wasn’t meant to be profound. Just a moment of clarity.

And it reminded me that I don’t need to be fluent in religious vocabulary to walk a spiritually grounded path. I don’t need to have all the words — I just need to mean the ones I use.

So I’ll keep showing up. With curiosity. With kindness. With integrity.

Whether I call it “walking in faith” or just “trying to be a decent human,” I think that still counts.

Even if I mess up the titles.

Even if I say it all wrong.

Even if I never quite find the right label.