Jesus Isn’t Like That

For many of us who have experienced the collapse of our faith or the heartbreak of our experience in church didn’t come because we stopped loving Jesus. It came because we were handed a version of Him that didn’t look like love at all.

We didn’t leave Jesus. We left what distorted Him.

When the structure of your faith crumbles, when the leadership you trusted becomes a source of harm, when your questions are silenced instead of welcomed—it’s not Jesus who failed you. It’s the system that misrepresented Him. And in the middle of the rubble, something miraculous can happen. Sometimes in the quiet. Sometimes in the tears. Sometimes in the everyday moments that feel too ordinary to be sacred.

Jesus appears again.

Not the Jesus who was shaped by branding or culture wars. Not the one you were pressured to perform for. But the Jesus who touched the outcast. The Jesus who wept with His friends. The Jesus who flipped tables when power was being used to hurt the vulnerable. The Jesus who made room for questions, welcomed sinners, and never asked for polished answers.

That Jesus is still here.

He was never gone. He was buried beneath the rubble of what people built in His name.

And now, brick by broken brick, we’re uncovering Him again.

The Real Jesus Was Never Like Religious Power

If the only Jesus you knew was handed to you through institutional filters, chances are He looked more like a performance manager than a Good Shepherd. You were told He wanted perfection. That He demanded loyalty to church leaders. That He was impressed with rule-following and disappointed by emotion.

But that Jesus is not the one revealed in Scripture. Jesus isn’t like that at all.

The real Jesus broke religious expectations to care for people. He challenged religious leaders who used their positions to protect themselves instead of the flock. He comforted the grieving. He dignified the wounded. He welcomed doubters. He never used fear or shame to coerce devotion. He did not lord power over others—He gave His life in love.

Jesus is not prideful. He is not controlling. He is not narcissistic. He is not defensive when you ask hard questions. He does not manipulate your emotions or use your pain against you. He does not demand your silence to keep His reputation safe.

He is the exact opposite of the abusive or immature leadership so many have experienced in church settings. Where there was control, Jesus offers freedom. Where there was shaming, He offers compassion. Where there was betrayal, He remains faithful.

It Grieves God’s Heart

Let’s be clear: it grieves God when His children are harmed in His name. He is not indifferent. He does not turn a blind eye. When the church betrays trust, silences the hurting, or protects the powerful at the expense of the wounded—it wounds the heart of the Father.

That kind of behavior is not a reflection of who He is. It is a distortion of His image. And it breaks His heart.

The real God is not hiding behind the walls of failed institutions. He is near to the brokenhearted. He is rebuilding alongside you. He is not ashamed of you for stepping back from dysfunction. In fact, He is drawing near in ways you may not have experienced before.

Separating Jesus from the System

For many of us, rediscovering Jesus requires the courage to separate Him from the system we were taught to trust. That’s not rebellion. That’s wisdom. It is not deconstruction for the sake of destruction—it is discernment born from a deep longing for what is true.

Some churches reflect Jesus well. Some do not. But no church, no leader, no theology should ever take the place of Christ Himself. When the institution no longer reflects the love, safety, humility, and integrity of Jesus, stepping away is not betrayal. It may be the most sacred act of devotion you’ve ever made.

And here is the good news: Jesus is not like the system. He is not insecure. He is not controlling. He is not afraid of your questions. He does not require your loyalty to a brand. He meets you right where you are—not where someone else says you should be.

Rebuilding with the Real Jesus

When Jesus walked the earth, He asked a simple but piercing question: “What are you looking for?” He still asks that question today.

Are you looking for a faith that can hold your full humanity?

A God who stays when you’re tired, grieving, or full of doubt?

A community that values honesty over appearance?

Jesus is not afraid of your longing. He does not rush your grief. He does not need your mask. He simply comes closer.

You don’t need to be perfect. You need to be present. Jesus never asked for your performance. He asked for your presence. He asked for proximity.

And in the places where religion failed, Jesus remains.

You are not alone. You are not lost. You are being found again—by the One who was always love.

If We Want Jesus in Our Church, We Must Demand Maturity that Looks Like Him

If we truly want Jesus to be the center of our churches, then we must begin to value what He valued. We must stop elevating charisma over character and gifting over fruit. We must stop confusing platform with spiritual authority. Jesus did not choose His disciples based on their ability to impress a crowd—He chose them based on their willingness to follow Him into the hard, hidden work of love.

It is no longer enough to have leaders who can preach well, strategize well, or grow numbers. If we want to see Jesus in our churches, we must demand something deeper. Something truer. We must require that our leaders be emotionally healthy, spiritually mature, trauma-informed, and formed in the fire of real love—not theoretical love but love that has learned to stay present when things get messy and people are in pain.

Church leadership must be marked by sustainable and visible fruit of the Spirit—lives that demonstrate patience, gentleness, kindness, self-control, and deep compassion in real-time relationships. These traits cannot be hidden behind stage lights or titles. They must be seen, known, and experienced by those who are led.

This means we need elders who are not just older, but truly mature. We need spiritual mothers and fathers to rise up—not from positions of power, but from places of quiet faithfulness, healing, and humility. We need people who have walked through the valleys of their own brokenness and come out with gentleness, empathy, and a deep understanding of how to steward hearts with care.

We cannot afford to entrust souls to unhealed leaders. We cannot build safe communities on the shaky ground of unresolved trauma, spiritual pride, or emotional immaturity. If we want churches where Jesus feels at home, then we must commit ourselves to raising the standard for leadership—not with legalism, but with love.

This is not something we demand with bitterness. It is something we pray for with holy longing. We ask God to raise up the hidden ones—the ones who have been formed in secret, who have loved well in private, who have been faithful when no one was watching. These are the leaders who can carry the weight of hearts. These are the leaders who look like Jesus.

So let us pray boldly. Each of us.

Let us pray for healing in the hearts of our leaders. Let us pray for trauma-informed shepherds. Let us pray for emotionally whole elders. Let us ask God to purify His Church by raising up those who lead like Christ—not through control or fear, but through love that heals, restores, and makes space for the broken to become whole.

Because if we want Jesus in our churches, then we must make room for the kind of leadership that reflects His heart.

So for you and your healing journey.

Peace, love and joy, 

Rebecca Jo