TL;DR: When words like progressive, inclusive, conservative, or traditional become more important than Christian, we've lost something essential. The church's first identity should be its submission to Christ, the gospel, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit—not the adjective placed before its name.
Are Progressive, Inclusive Churches More Interested in Being “Progressive” and “Inclusive” Than They Are in Being Christian?
Now, while I do spend plenty of time on here critiquing progressive Christianity, I think many conservative churches have exactly the same problem.
I was recently listening to my good friend and colleague Dennis Sanders interview Jason Swan Clark on the Church and Main podcast. While I haven’t yet read the Substack essay that prompted their conversation, one observation Clark made during the podcast interview has been rattling around in my head.
Borrowing from Stanley Hauerwas, Clark suggested that whenever we put a word in front of church—whether inclusive, progressive, conservative, or traditional—that word can eventually “completely dominate what the church is supposed to be.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about that.
The word in front of church begins to eclipse the word that follows it.
That observation immediately reminded me of an interview I once had with a “progressive, inclusive” congregation.
When the Word Comes First
Interestingly, I wasn’t asked much about traditional Christian doctrines or even my understanding of the gospel. Instead, much of the conversation centered on my willingness to be affirming of LGBT Christians.
To be clear, I understand why.
Pastors have significant influence, especially through the pulpit each Sunday. Even conservative churches have been damaged by poor pastoral leaders. It’s entirely reasonable for a congregation to want confidence that a prospective pastor will care well for everyone in the pews.1
But looking back, I realized something felt off.
It wasn’t that the church cared about inclusion.
It was, like Clark suggests, that inclusion seemed to function as the primary confession of the church.
Listening to Clark helped me understand why that interview has stayed with me all these years. It felt as though the first question wasn’t, “Are you committed to Jesus Christ and the gospel?” but rather, “Will you affirm this particular ethical position?”
Clark put it this way:
“What happens when those ethical positions become the entry point—the confession that’s required to belong to Christ?”
That question struck me because I don’t think it’s limited to progressive churches.
It’s Not Just Progressive Churches
The more I sat with Clark’s observation, though, the more I realized this isn’t really a progressive church problem.
It’s an American Christian problem.
Conservative churches often do exactly the same thing. The word in front of church simply changes.
The point isn’t whether those words describe something true or valuable.
The point is what happens when they become the thing that most defines the community.
That’s what intrigued me most about Clark’s argument. The issue isn’t ultimately which adjective we choose. It’s whether that adjective begins to function as a confession that stands alongside—or even ahead of—the gospel itself.
And that got me thinking about Peter in the book of Acts. Acts 10 describes a deeply convinced Peter that certain foods were unclean. “By no means, Lord,” he said.
Peter’s practices weren’t arbitrary; they were rooted in Scripture and centuries of Jewish faithfulness.
Yet when the Holy Spirit confronted him, Peter changed.
Not because culture persuaded him.
Not because public opinion shifted.
But because he became convinced that God was doing something new.
To me, that’s one of the defining characteristics of Christian discipleship.
It isn't that every commitment is perpetually up for revision. It's that every commitment ultimately remains submitted to the gospel and open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
This also helps explain something I’ve found surprising over the years.
I’ve occasionally met LGBT Christians who choose to worship in churches that are not explicitly affirming. At first glance, that seems almost incomprehensible to many progressive Christians.
But I wonder if what’s draws some of them isn’t agreement on every ethical question.2 Rather, it’s the conviction that this is a community genuinely seeking to submit itself to Christ and to the leading of the Holy Spirit—even if that process hasn’t led everyone to the same conclusions.
To be clear, I’m not suggesting LGBT Christians should attend churches where they experience hostility or abuse. Nor am I suggesting questions of human sexuality don’t matter. They do.
My point is simply that, for some Christians, a community’s posture toward Christ and the Holy Spirit matters even more than complete agreement on every point of interpretation.
That strikes me as a deeply Christian instinct.
An Old Idea for a New Moment
As I thought about all of this, I found myself reflecting on the tradition in which I am ordained—the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).
From its beginning, the Restoration Movement3 (out of which the DOC was born) wrestled with a remarkably similar question.4
How do we keep being Christian from being eclipsed by everything else?
Early leaders like Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell certainly didn’t believe doctrine was unimportant. Nor did they imagine Christians would all agree on every point of interpretation.
Rather, they were deeply suspicious of anything that functioned as a dividing line beyond the centrality of Christ. That’s why they were so insistent on open communion. They didn’t want creeds or theological systems to become ends in themselves rather than witnesses to the gospel.
Their founding vision was simple, if difficult:
Christians first.
Not because they thought differences didn’t matter.
But because they believed every Christian—and every church—should remain continually submitted to Christ, Scripture, and the work of the Holy Spirit.
The Restoration Movement certainly DID NOT solve this problem. It eventually developed its own divisions, labels, and identities.5
But its founding vision still remains remarkably relevant.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again—I’ve convinced that we can discern the future of Christianity by looking to its past.
I wonder if this is one of those moments.
Christianity Before the Adjective
As someone who can’t help but think about the future of Christianity in North America, I find myself wondering if we’ll increasingly see churches and Christians who refuse to let an adjective become their primary identity.
Perhaps that’s too optimistic.
But I also wonder if it’s already happening.
I’ve been with Christians who disagree about abortion, sexuality, and/or political policy, yet who share something deeper. They genuinely want to follow Jesus. They genuinely believe the Holy Spirit still has something to teach them. And they genuinely recognize that they themselves might still have something to learn.
That’s a very different posture than beginning with absolute certainty that our group/tradition already has all the right answers.6
And, this is where I think my own tradition has so much to contribute here:
Neither the Restoration Movement nor the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) has lived up perfectly to its founding vision. No tradition has.
But that vision—that Christians should be known first and foremost as Christians, continually submitting themselves to Christ, Scripture, and the work of the Holy Spirit—feels remarkably relevant in a moment when so many of our ecclesial identities are shaped by adjectives.
This isn't about abandoning creeds or doctrine (even if the Movement became famous for saying, "No creed but Christ"). It's about recognizing that every creed, doctrine, and ethical commitment remains accountable to Christ, the gospel, and the ongoing guidance of the Holy Spirit.7
Back to the Future?
The American church has much to learn from the early Restoration Movement—and frankly so does my current branch of that movement—the Disciples of Christ.8
I’ve argued before that one way we discern the future of the church is by looking to its past.
Perhaps this is one of those moments.
Perhaps the future of American Christianity isn’t a more progressive Christianity.
Or a more conservative Christianity.
Perhaps it’s simply a more Christian Christianity.
One where the word Christian once again carries more weight than the word placed in front of it.
P.S. If you're interested in the future of Christianity in North America, I'd love to invite you to check out my forthcoming book, The Church as Community Hub (releasing September 8). While this essay reflects on the church's identity, the book asks what that identity looks like when embodied in neighborhoods, shared spaces, and everyday community life. I hope you'll take a look.
As the reader will soon see, I think any pastor truly committed to the gospel and the guidance of the Spirit will be able to care well for anyone in the pews.
I’m not sure “ethical” is the right word to use here, but I think it aligns with the wording Clark used, so I’ll stick with that.
The Restoration Movement eventually developed into three primary streams: the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), the Independent Christian Churches/Churches of Christ, and the Churches of Christ.
Shout out to my cousins? siblings? in the Churches of Christ and Independent Christian movements.
I think there’s a difference between certainty and confidence. I’m confident in my faith—but not certain.
I fear too much of the Restoration Movement has lost sight of the idea of creeds not being tests of fellowship, with some strands essentially disbanding with doctrine all-together, and other strands elevating doctrine above all else (I’ll let the reader guess which one).
I sometimes wonder if what it means to be a “Disciple” today is more about polity or practice rather than theological commitments.
Thanks for this Loren. The adjectives also reflect an overly politicized culture as well as one that is driven by marketing.
Thanks for a thoughtful post. This gives perspective to the relationship between submitting to Christ above all else, and affirming particular beliefs and practices that are perceived to enact this submission.
Far too often, I perceive that church members import the "particularities" from the culture and lose sight of the Lord who stands above and corrects all cultural expressions.
It's a constant struggle "to let the main thing be the main thing," but a vitally worthwhile one.