The theologian Paul Tillich once defined religion this way:

“Religion is the state of being grasped by an ultimate concern, a concern which qualifies all other concerns as preliminary and which itself contains the answer to the question of a meaning of our life.”

That’s a profound definition. Today, though, I might suggest substituting the word spirituality for religion. Not because Tillich was wrong, but because the way we use those words has shifted since he wrote.

In our culture, people often distinguish between “religion” and “spirituality.” Many pursue spirituality apart from organized religion. It helps, I think, to see spirituality as the essence — the “ultimate concern” that Tillich names. Religion, then, is the structure that gives shape to that essence: the community, the teaching, the practices, the traditions.

Think of it this way: spirituality is vital communion with God. Religion is the container, the framework, the window through which that communion is nurtured and expressed.

The Real Question

Here’s Tillich’s point, and it’s one we can’t miss, whatever term we want to use for it: Everybody has this. Everyone has an “ultimate concern” that organizes their life.

The question is not whether you have this ultimate concern — the question is whether yours is worthy. Does it lead to life, to truth, to human flourishing? Or is it shallow, harmful, or misdirected?

This is where things get uncomfortable. Because it’s not just “out there” that people misplace their ultimate concern. It happens in the church too. Many who profess Christian faith, if you look closer, are ultimately living for something else — power, politics, money, comfort, reputation.

Facing What’s True

Authentic faith calls us to face the truth — even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially when it’s uncomfortable. The goal isn’t to shield ourselves from challenges that threaten us, but to let God use those very challenges to deepen our faith and refine our hearts.

This matters for many reasons, but especially when it comes to recovery from addictions and compulsive behaviors. One of the core insights of the 12-Step movement was that we are powerless to overcome addiction on our own — we need God’s help (what the Steps call a “Higher Power”).

And this brings us back to Tillich’s definition. If spirituality is about “being grasped by an ultimate concern,” then it’s no wonder so many who profess Christian faith still find themselves trapped in destructive patterns. Because it’s not simply about subscribing to the right doctrines. It’s about whether, at the deepest level of our being, we are truly grasped by God — whether we’re experiencing a living connection with the One Scripture points us to.

I’ve seen many Christians assume that because they “have the right answers” to spiritual questions, that should give them an advantage in recovery. They believe the doctrines of the faith, and they think that’s enough.

But addiction exposes something deeper. If we are enslaved to a destructive behavior, it’s a sign that something in our spiritual life is misaligned. In that case, it doesn’t matter if we know all the right answers — there is still soul-work to do.

That’s why Tillich’s question is so important: “What really is the ultimate concern I am grasped by?”

Sitting honestly with that question may be one of the most important steps you can take toward real healing and lasting recovery.