Lorenzo Palon

Many Christians speak about Jesus as though he were one important subject among many. We discuss God, salvation, the church, morality, creation, worship, prophecy, family, politics, and the end of the world. Then, somewhere in the middle, we include a section about Christ.

But Jesus Christ is not one doctrine among others.

He is the center from which every Christian doctrine receives its proper meaning.

This is the burden of Christ-centered theology. It implies that the Trinity, creation, Scripture, baptism, the Lord’s Supper, ethics, and the hope of new creation matter. It says that these truths find their deepest coherence in the One through whom God has made himself known.

We Know God by Looking at Jesus

Jesus said, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9). That means we must not begin with our ideas about God and then try to fit Jesus into them. We begin with Jesus Christ because he reveals the Father’s character.

In Christ, we see that God’s holiness is not coldness. His authority is not domination. His justice is not cruelty. His power is not a self-serving force. Jesus confronts sin, but he receives sinners. He exposes hypocrisy, but he restores the broken. At the cross, he reveals judgment and mercy meeting in self-giving love.

The early church father Athanasius summarized the wonder of the incarnation with the words, “He became man that we might become god.”¹ He did not mean that redeemed people become gods by nature. He meant that the Son took our humanity in order to heal, restore, and bring us into communion with God by grace.

Karl Barth later pressed the same Christ-centered conviction in his own way: God is not known through our religious achievements, traditions, or speculation, but through God’s free self-revelation in Jesus Christ.⁴

Ask yourself: Does my picture of God truly resemble Jesus—his humility, mercy, courage, holiness, and self-giving love? Or have I created a god who simply approves of my fears, preferences, and loyalties?

Christ Does Not Reduce the Richness of Scripture

Some may fear that Christ-centered theology makes every doctrine sound the same or forces every biblical passage to speak directly about Jesus. That would be a mistake.

Genesis must still teach us about creation. Proverbs must still form us in wisdom. The Psalms must still provide us language for praise, lament, and trust. The prophets must still confront injustice and idolatry. The Epistles must still instruct the church. Revelation must still nourish hope in the final victory of God.

A Christ-centered reading does not flatten Scripture. It receives Scripture as one grand story in which creation, covenant, Israel, redemption, the church, and new creation find their ultimate fulfillment in Christ.

Paul writes that all things were created through Christ and for Christ, and that God’s purpose is to bring all things together under him (Colossians 1:16; Ephesians 1:10). Christ does not make the Bible smaller. He gives its many voices their ultimate horizon.

As you read Scripture, ask: Am I allowing each passage to speak in its own setting while also listening for how it belongs within God’s larger purpose in Christ?

Tradition, Reason, and Experience Are Servants, Not Masters

Christian theology has never grown through isolated Bible reading alone. The church has received wisdom from earlier believers, reflected carefully through reason, and wrestled honestly with human experience. Creeds, councils, confessions, pastors, teachers, and the witness of the saints can help us hear Scripture faithfully.

Augustine wisely warned that anyone who interprets Scripture without building up love for God and neighbor “does not yet understand them as he ought.”² Truth is not opposed to love. Properly understood, truth produces love, humility, repentance, and obedience.

John Calvin likewise insisted that true wisdom involves “the knowledge of God and of ourselves.”³ Knowing God rightly exposes our pride, self-deception, and need for grace. It also prevents theology from becoming a weapon used to prove that our group is superior.

Tradition can preserve truth, but it can also preserve blind spots. Reason is God’s gift, but pride can bend it toward self-justification. Experience can awaken gratitude and compassion, but it can also mislead when it becomes the final measure of truth.

These are valuable servants. They must never become masters.

Scripture remains the normative witness to God’s revelation in Jesus Christ. Tradition helps us remember. Reason helps us think clearly. Experience reminds us that faith is about real people with real wounds and struggles. Yet every creed, interpretation, institution, and personal conviction must finally stand under the lordship of Christ.

Where might tradition, reason, experience, or loyalty to a religious group be functioning as an authority that Christ is calling you to examine?

Christian Ethics Is Broad but Not Directionless

Christian ethics cannot be reduced to a shallow question like “What would Jesus do?” as if every modern problem could be solved by copying a single outward action from the Gospels.

Scripture speaks of justice, creation, wisdom, family, work, stewardship, conscience, sexuality, civic responsibility, and love of neighbor. Christians may also learn from moral reasoning, the created order, and the tested wisdom of the historic church.

Yet these sources require discernment. Fallen people can misuse reason, distort tradition, and read even creation through the lens of self-interest.

Jesus Christ remains the decisive center because in him we see the character of God and the true shape of human faithfulness. His life shows us what love looks like. His cross exposes our violence, pride, and self-protection. His resurrection declares that obedience is not futile. His Spirit enables what moral effort alone cannot produce.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”⁵ Christian discipleship is not simply choosing the most respectable moral position. It is dying to the self that seeks control, recognition, vengeance, and comfort.

Before defending a moral conviction, ask: Does my posture resemble the crucified and risen Lord? Does it produce truthfulness, justice, mercy, and love for neighbor?

The Church Exists to Point Beyond Itself

A creed may preserve important truth, but it cannot replace Christ. A denomination may carry a valuable heritage, but it cannot become the final measure of faithfulness. A gifted preacher cannot become the conscience of God’s people. Even sound doctrine can become an idol when we use it to defend our tribe rather than submit to the living Lord.

The church does not exist to glorify itself, protect its reputation, or prove that its group is superior. It exists to bear witness to Jesus Christ.

Its worship should direct people to Christ. Its preaching should proclaim Christ. Its service should display the compassion of Christ. Its discipline should seek restoration through the grace of Christ. Its public witness should reflect Christ’s humility, courage, truthfulness, and mercy.

Whenever theology loses sight of Jesus, it becomes speculation. Whenever the church loses sight of Jesus, it becomes an institution protecting itself. Whenever believers lose sight of Jesus, faith becomes either pride or fear.

But when Christ remains at the center, truth becomes living, grace becomes costly, obedience becomes joyful, and the church becomes what it was called to be: a community that points beyond itself to the crucified and risen Lord.

So the question is not merely, “Do I have the right doctrines?”

The more profound question is this: Do my doctrines, convictions, relationships, worship, and daily decisions lead me into deeper submission to Jesus Christ—and into greater love for the people he came to save?

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