We're told that you can have a relationship with Jesus, but most

Hear the words of John Eldredge, spoken with both sorrow and yearning: “We're told that you can have a relationship with Jesus, but most Christians don't experience Jesus personally like that. They just don't. We honor Him. We respect Him. We worship Him. We don't experience Him and His personality like we do the people we love the most in our lives.” These words pierce like an arrow, for they reveal the chasm between knowledge and experience, between reverence and intimacy. It is easy to revere from afar, but harder to encounter face to face the living heart of one’s faith.

The meaning of Eldredge’s words lies in the call to relationship rather than ritual. Many approach Jesus as a figure of history, as a king upon a throne, or as a teacher whose words must be studied. Yet Eldredge reminds us that Jesus is not merely an object of honor, respect, and worship, but a person to be known. To experience His personality—His humor, His gentleness, His fire, His compassion—is to move beyond distant religion into living friendship. Without this, the Christian faith risks becoming hollow, a set of practices devoid of the intimacy that gives it life.

The origin of this reflection comes from Eldredge’s lifelong work of calling believers into deeper, personal encounters with God. He has often taught that Christianity is not meant to be a cold system of doctrines, but a romance of the soul with its Creator. In his writings, he echoes the cries of prophets and mystics who longed not just to serve God but to know Him personally, as Moses who spoke with Him face to face, or as John who leaned upon Christ at the table.

History gives us many who embody this truth. Saint Francis of Assisi did not simply honor Jesus in ritual—he experienced Him in the leper he embraced, in the birds he preached to, in the poverty he chose for love’s sake. Teresa of Ávila wrote of mystical union, describing Christ as her most intimate companion. These figures remind us that the faith is not only about obedience but about encounter, not only about reverence but about love. Without such experience, religion risks becoming only form, when it was always meant to be fire.

Eldredge’s lament also warns us of a danger. It is possible to know the hymns, the prayers, the ceremonies, and still not know the heart of the One whom these point to. To honor without intimacy is like praising a friend without ever speaking to them, or admiring a lover without ever drawing near. True faith calls us beyond distance, into relationship—so close that Christ is not merely remembered, but experienced as we do with the people we love most deeply.

The lesson for us is plain: do not be content with distant reverence. Seek the living presence of Christ. Speak to Him as you would to a friend. Look for His hand in the small mercies of each day, and listen for His voice in the quiet places of your heart. Read the stories of the Gospels not as tales of a long-dead figure, but as windows into the character of one who still walks with you. Only then will worship be joined with intimacy, and honor with love.

And so, let your actions follow. Pray not only lofty prayers, but simple ones of the heart. Ask for His companionship in your joys and sorrows. Be still long enough to hear, and bold enough to believe He still speaks. Treat Him not as an abstraction, but as the living companion of your journey. In this way, you will bridge the distance Eldredge mourns, and your faith will burn with the warmth of a living friendship.

Thus remember the cry of John Eldredge: “We honor Him. We respect Him. We worship Him. We don’t experience Him…” Do not stop at honor alone, for honor without intimacy grows cold. Instead, press forward until your heart knows the reality of His presence, and your soul walks in communion with Him as with the dearest of friends. For this is the fullness of faith: not only to revere Christ, but to experience Him as living, near, and beloved.