"I became a Christian because of Jordan Peterson ... it's not that he converted me but he got me interested in the Bible and things developed from there." That's a story that I have heard in different forms from more than one person. Peterson has been a gateway for many people. But where does he stand himself? His positive view of the Bible, his longing for transcendence, the conversion of his wife and daughter, and his desire to see Christianity as the de facto value system of the West have caused many to wonder if he has arrived at the destination he appears to be heading to. Two events this week have given some indication of where he is on his journey.

Firstly, Peterson spoke at the Australian conference of the ARC (Alliance for Responsible Citizenship). I was privileged to attend this event along with 700 others. After a stimulating and encouraging day, Peterson gave the final talk. Given that the whole conference had majored on the fruits of Christianity, without mentioning the roots, I had great hopes that Jordan would bring us back to the foundations. After all, the aim of the conference was to enable us to tell a 'better story', and while stories of family values, economic prosperity, and social justice are better, they need to be based on the best story of all – the Good News of Jesus Christ.

But it is clear that while Peterson grasps and appreciates much of Christian teaching and the value it brings, he still does not grasp much of its basic message.

We were told that "if we conduct ourselves according to the highest ethical principles there is no desert, we cannot turn blue ... that's the better story that ARC hopes to tell". But that leaves us with the question of what the highest ethical principles are? and more importantly dooms us – because none of us are capable of living to that standard. The law shows us our need; it does not, and cannot, save us. Peterson teaches a form of moralistic therapeutic Deism, with a dose of tough love thrown in. But it's not enough.

His key misunderstanding is about the Cross. To Jordan it is primarily exemplary. It is the greatest example of the self-sacrifice that we are all called to. It is almost as though he seems to believe that by taking on our own form of sacrifice, we too can atone not only for our own sins, but the sins of the world. It's no wonder that he looks and sounds like a heavily burdened man. Indeed, that is part of his great appeal. He is a deeply compassionate man who cares for others and wants to help others. But he cannot be the Saviour.

The Shorter Catechism in its famous first question asks, "What is the chief purpose of man?" and answers, "to glorify God and enjoy him forever." Peterson asks 'what is our meaning?' and answers "meaning is to be found in the adoption of maximal voluntary responsibility". That's more likely to lead to a form of self-flagellation than it is to lead to salvation.

Peterson also cited Jung and appeared to agree with him that the culmination of Protestantism is that each person will become their own church. Such individualism would indeed be both dangerous and absurd. But he did not appear to consider that Jung was wrong - which he certainly was. Protestantism accepts the biblical teaching about the church being the bride of Christ and being one. No one who accepts the Bible could ever think that it teaches we each become our own church. That is a reductio ad absurdum.

Also this week a fascinating interaction between Jordan Peterson and Richard Dawkins, brilliantly moderated by Alex O'Connor was broadcast.

Dawkins at times looked bemused and I had a degree of sympathy with him. Trying to get Jordan to give a straight answer to a straightforward question was like trying to get blood out of a stone. When asked "do you believe Jesus was born of a virgin?", Peterson responded, "I don't feel qualified to comment." He also went on to say that it didn't matter if the Bible was divinely inspired or just a product of human evolution. Dawkins rightly pointed out that it makes a huge difference, but Peterson insisted the two positions were essentially the same.

O'Connor had a rather brilliant insight in which he argued that Peterson's position of making the mundane divine could be easily reversed. What if Peterson was making the divine mundane?

It is amazing that Peterson is able to point people to the light, even though he seems to be lost in the fog of Jungian myth, memes and meaning. Dawkins of course continues to read the Bible entirely through the lens of his materialist worldview and therefore has no ability to discern any reality out of that narrow and soulless vision. Watching the conversation, it did feel a lot like the blind leading the blind.

I love Peterson. I have benefited enormously from his writing and talks, and I love the way he communicates such compassion, care and truth to a generation that is in desperate need of it. But it's not enough. At his Sydney ARC talk he emphasised the need for the individual to sacrifice for the sake of the family, then community, then nation. He describes this as 'Jacob's ladder'. At the top of the ladder he suggests that there is 'whatever transcendent unity'. It's not enough.

I briefly met Peterson on his last visit to Sydney. I asked him why he had so much focus on Moses (especially Genesis and Exodus) and not on Christ. And that is where I think the real issue lies. A transcendent unity at the top of the ladder, who we can only reach by self-sacrifice, is not the good news. Christ coming down the ladder to us, on the other hand, is.

Peterson reminds me of the rich young man who came to Jesus. In the story we are told that Jesus looked at the young man and loved him. But then, because he loved him, told him to sell everything he had, give to the poor and then come follow Christ. But the man's face fell, he went away sad (Mark 10:17-27). Until Peterson can let go of his burden, he will go away sad.

Peterson feels the pain of those who he so clearly wants to help. I feel his pain. He reminds me so much of Pilgrim in Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress with his burden still on his back. Until he stops reading the Bible through his Jungian spectacles, he won't be able to be 'unburdened'. He needs to come to the Cross, to the Christ who really was born of a virgin, really did come from God, really did rise from the dead, and really does forgive, renew and redeem; to the Christ who gives us this greatest of all invitations "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).