Platonic Dualism in Modern Christianity

Recovering the Sacred: How Modern Christianity Has Divorced the Physical from the Spiritual

In much of modern Christianity—especially within North American evangelicalism—we’ve dismantled many outward expressions of faith that Scripture clearly affirms.

We struggle to understand certain “curious” verses because they don’t fit within our North American, secular, and postmodern paradigm. I say secular because we’ve become used to compartmentalizing our faith from what we call “real life.” And in doing so, we’ve lost something vital: a faith that is embodied, ordered, and visibly expressed.

Below are a few areas where I believe modern Christianity has unintentionally stripped away the richness of biblical practice and understanding.

The Word “Religion” Isn’t a Bad Word

We often hear, “Christianity isn’t a religion, it’s a relationship.” But if you believe that, I’d like to lovingly challenge you. Christianity is indeed a religion—the true religion.

James 1:27 says, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this…” Scripture doesn’t reject the word religion—it redeems it.

True religion has structure and sacred rhythm: holy days, a holy book, sacred gatherings, a day of worship, and the order of the church. These are not cold traditions; they are the framework of a living faith.

Our discomfort with the word religion often comes from cultural baggage, not biblical truth. We recoil from it because we’ve inherited a modern, reactionary view that equates “religion” with hypocrisy or empty ritual. But when Scripture and tradition align, we should pay attention. Religion, rightly understood, anchors faith in practice. Not only that, but sometimes words such as “righteousness,” “holy” and “good deeds” are spoken about pejoratively. This should not be so. Our Christian faith encompasses both our faith in Christ and the result of good deeds and righteous, holy character.

Baptism: More Than Just a Symbol

In many evangelical circles, baptism has been reduced to “just a symbol.” The focus on inward faith—while beautiful—has sometimes gone so far that the physical act of obedience is dismissed.

But Jesus says in John 3:5, “Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” Then He adds, “You should not be surprised at my saying.”

Yes, the thief on the cross was saved without baptism. But ask yourself honestly: are you the thief on the cross? Or can you obey today, and be baptized in faith as the Lord commands?

Baptism is not legalism—it’s embodied obedience. It is the outward sign of an inward reality, yes, but also the God-ordained means by which we publicly enter into His covenant family. The physical and spiritual are intertwined.

Head Coverings and the Physical–Spiritual Divide

One of the clearest examples of our modern discomfort with physical expressions of faith is head covering.

Many view it as outdated, legalistic, or merely symbolic. But Paul grounds the practice not in culture, but in creation order, spiritual authority, and the presence of angels (1 Corinthians 11). That’s not cultural—it’s theological.

Our modern, secular mindset struggles to comprehend this because we’ve inherited a worldview that separates the physical from the spiritual. Influenced by modernism, postmodernism, and secular science, we’ve learned to “disenchant” creation—to strip it of mystery, to rationalize away the supernatural.

Don’t hear me wrong: science and Christianity are not at odds. God is the God of science—the Lawgiver behind nature’s laws. But our worldview has dulled our spiritual senses. We have a hard time believing that a physical act—like covering one’s head—could have supernatural significance. Yet Scripture consistently unites the physical and the spiritual.

When we reject that unity, we risk losing touch with the sacred.

The Lord’s Supper: More Than a Symbol

The same problem appears in how we treat the Lord’s Supper.

Many modern Christians see it as purely symbolic—a memorial meal, nothing more. But throughout church history, believers have held that Christ is truly present—whether through real presence, spiritual presence, or another mystery of faith.

Our modern secular worldview finds it difficult to grasp that something can be both physical and spiritual at the same time. Even some Reformers emphasized its symbolism—but that view finds its most comfortable home in our modern, rationalistic age.

Yet Scripture tells us otherwise. God works through physical means—bread and wine, water and oil, word and gesture—to reveal spiritual truths. The bread and wine are not just reminders; they are participation in the body and blood of Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16).

In the Old Testament, God repeatedly used physical signs—like the twelve stones after the Jordan crossing—to help His people remember His works. The sacraments continue this pattern. They are not empty rituals; they are living symbols through which grace and remembrance flow.

The Over-Individualization of Faith

Another modern distortion is our overemphasis on individual faith.

We often neglect the communal, embodied nature of Christianity—the gathering of believers, the covenant household, the rhythm of worship. God’s covenant has always included families and communities, not just isolated individuals.

In Scripture, entire households were blessed, circumcised, judged, or saved together—Noah’s family in the ark, Abraham’s household, Rahab’s family, the Philippian jailer’s household. Faith is both personal and corporate.

Of course, each person must personally come to know Christ—but we’ve often swung so far toward individualism that we’ve lost the covenantal beauty of communal faith. God works through households, churches, and nations, not just solitary hearts.

Recovering the Beauty of Holy Days

I’ve met many Christians who reject Christmas or Easter because of supposed “pagan origins,” yet have no issue celebrating Halloween. That logic doesn’t hold up.

Yes, Christmas has been commercialized—but that’s exactly why we should redeem it. We have the opportunity to make it about Christ again, to reclaim the story for our families and the world.

God instituted days of remembrance throughout Scripture so His people would recall and proclaim His mighty works. Humans are forgetful—we need rhythm, ritual, and remembrance. These are not empty traditions; they are God-given patterns of worship and gratitude.

If we apply the “every day is special” logic consistently, we’d never celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, or milestones. But we do, because love celebrates. God designed us for seasons and repetition—so why not offer that same rhythm to Him?

Every Sunday, we keep the rhythm of the Lord’s Day. Every time we partake in the Lord’s Supper, we enter a holy repetition. These acts are sacred, cyclical, and deeply formative.

Also, why do modern churches have to be aesthetically unpleasing when the rest of our lives are physically beautiful?

Unlearning and Relearning: Seeing with Spiritual Eyes

To recover the fullness of biblical faith, we must unlearn what secularism and modernity have taught us. The Enlightenment taught us to read Scripture as mere literature, to analyze rather than to adore. But Scripture is not just text—it is revelation.

God’s Word calls us to reunite what our age has divided: the physical and the spiritual, the ritual and the relational, the sacred and the ordinary.

The same God who created matter also breathes His Spirit into it. The Incarnation itself—God made flesh—tells us that heaven and earth are not meant to be divorced.

When we reclaim this unity, the “curious verses” of Scripture start to make sense again. We begin to see with ancient eyes, not secular ones—with a renewed imagination that recognizes the sacred in the simple, the holy in the ordinary, and the spiritual in the physical.

There is so much to love about evangelicalism—its zeal for the gospel, its emphasis on personal faith, its love for Scripture. But in our desire to avoid dead ritual, we may have lost something sacred.

We need not reject outward expressions of faith; we must redeem them. Christianity has always been both spiritual and physical, inward and outward, invisible and visible.

To be Christian is to believe and to embody—to love God not only with heart and mind, but with hands, habits, and holy rhythms.

May we recover that fullness again.