Jesus Loves Me?

Wake Up Dead Man (2025). Courtesy of T-Street, along with Netflix.

I swear a lot. Not in a rude way, but in a cute, commentary way. I guess it is still swearing, though. I know one shouldn’t do it because it is considered blasphemous, at least that’s how it started. What this also started was contemplations on a far bigger, underlying condition of our societies and how we understand behavioural functions and selfhood. These things naturally change over time, from a strictly religious and conservative society towards a more secular and open one. The spectrum and extent of that vary enormously depending not only on which nation-state, but also on what society or family one is in.

I grew up in a non-religious household. At age 14, my mother asked if I would like to be baptised because that is apparently the age at which one can make sound decisions about faith and belief affiliations. I decided against it because I really did not see the necessity. I didn’t feel any less of a human, or loved, or blessed, for that matter. Despite that, I was always somehow fascinated by religion because it seemed to be such an integral part of people’s lives, the centre of understanding and connection with the world. Maybe there was something I was supposed to miss? I would look into the big religions: Christianity, Judaism (although it is considered far more than that, an ethno-religion), Buddhism, Islam. All really interesting, still no new findings, to be honest.

The Gospel of John (2003). Courtesy by Gospel of John Ltd., Toronto Film Studios, Visual Bible International.

But then, especially in Berlin, there is not much public expression of any religion anyway, except, of course, that of the nightclub, which has a somewhat similar stoic following, or had one, since the kids of today don’t dance anymore. Otherwise, you do not really come into contact with any god if you do not enter one of its buildings. And I love doing it. Churches, mosques, temples, the intentionality of these spaces, the meticulous design, and the conversation between architecture and physical bodies are quite beautiful. After about 16 years of slowly building, the Buddhist Temple in Berlin finally opened its doors this June. Colourful, representing all deities and cultural significance. And apparently new houses of worship are being built across Germany, just not Christian ones, which seem to stay abundant and abandoned and are being used as cultural sites, like at this year’s Manifesta 16 Ruhr. Under the theme ‘This is not a church’, the European Biennale is staging events in twelve vacant post-war churches in the area.

Speaking of abandonment: I was watching American Gods, based on the novel and adapted into a series, which is described as: “the fundamental premise that gods exist because people believe in them. As generations pass and people forget these old legends, the ancient deities lose their power, leaving them impoverished, forgotten, and desperate to survive in a new, unfamiliar world.” And I felt so sad for them since I really believe, believe!, that these stories and myths and ideas of the divine, the celestial, and the sacred are important. Not just for their stories, but for the wider idea of our relationship with the physical and the spiritual.

And although I have cried for joy at weddings and ceremonies, been to all kinds of funerals, and celebrated religious feasts with friends, I don’t miss the framework that religion holds. Having not grown up in one particular confession, how would I even decide which one is the one?

Its continuous power and significance in geopolitics are, however, undeniably profound. Without wanting to be too harsh, I still think it is the worst invention humans have ever come up with, starting with the Crusades. As with all things, it depends on the respective interpretation and manipulation. Valuing one over the other, that’s when it becomes dangerous. And yet, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely understand and honour people’s beliefs. And in that vein, there is a confession: I now and then very much enjoy gospel music. Yeah, I know. It is just such beautiful compositions of voice and rhythm.

Anyways, the point of this long-winded wandering is that it seems that, although churches still record declining numbers, Jesus is resurgent. Particularly this guy, yes. Not necessarily religion in general. More often than ever, I see people walking around with ‘I Love Jesus’ flags or the proclamation ‘Jesus loves you’. Even whole concerts of Christian rock and loud declarations on the importance of Jesus made in public parks in Berlin, the need to let him in, including accounts presented by people of how Jesus has healed them of illness and other evils. That surprised me, I must admit.

We are familiar with US-American popular preachers, animated, loud, and entertaining. Shouting about the “path of light” and salvation and all the rest. But in a rather reserved Germany? In front of young crowds instead of the few old people who otherwise go to church? That’s new.

And perhaps that is why it caught my attention. Not because religion has suddenly reappeared, but because Jesus specifically seems to have re-entered public space and social media, of course, in a way that feels more visible, vocal, and produced with an intentional pop flair. Why now, I wonder? What is this resurgence of Jesus about?

The Half of It (2020). Courtesy of Likely Story, along with Netflix.

Is it, as some have suggested, that we are living through an, for this generation and geography, unprecedentedly difficult time? Surrounded by the idea of war, general uncertainty, climate change, and the loss of personal grounding? Or is it part of the trend we are seeing which favours a return to the “good old days” and thus to a societal framework that felt clearer about position, value, and direction? Thinking of tradwife and manosphere movements, ideas that often resemble older conservative notions of societal roles and are frequently combined with religious ideas.

All this peaked when I was reading about Lukas Repert, from God Is Power, who was the one preaching on the stage in Berlin, and his account in an online article: “There were so many miracles across the field that nearly every person there saw the power of God firsthand. People rejoiced and shouted with gratitude. No sickness and no devil can stand against the mighty power of Jesus Christ!” Sounds amazing, honestly. But then I ask: how is there any sickness or injury still around? This might be an extreme example, but one that uses an old playbook in a new design a bit too well.

One thing that religion, apart from belief and guidance, has always offered, though, is the sense of community. That big word that is becoming extremely vague and abstract in contemporary settings. Maybe it is the very personal, individual search for community through religion that is more unifying and identity-giving than a sports club, school, or neighbourhood? The proverbial devil of the digital world that makes everything faster, more confusing, and less connected to genuine human interactions does not help, I guess. We all need community and a sense of belonging, but my question is: are we capable of using these frameworks without their stark ideas of dichotomy leading to exclusion and devaluation of whatever the other is?

Maybe I am sceptical because of my personal background that didn’t know only one thing but embraced the multitude. The beautiful as well as the dangerous parts of religion are nothing new, but again, the question is: why now, why this way? And maybe even more pressing, where does that lead? There is, of course, nothing wrong with believing, but this development speaks to a larger societal moment in our time, thus it might be good to understand what it is that we are really in search of.