Why the Mainline Church Still Matters

The Mainline Church is shrinking, aging, and often overlooked. So why do I still believe it matters?

The Mainline Church is shrinking, aging, and often overlooked. So why do I still believe it matters?

While evangelical churches grab headlines and non-denominational movements swell in numbers, I find myself holding onto the value—and the necessity—of the Mainline traditions. Not out of nostalgia, but conviction.

Religious sociologist Ryan Burge says it quite simply: some people want to go to a church that allows women to be pastors and will marry gay people. While I appreciate Burge’s practicality—as well as his awareness of the importance of inclusion—I think there’s more to it.

I’ve spent a good deal of time on this blog critiquing Mainline Protestantism and Progressive Christianity. A friend recently challenged me to write a post on why we still need the Mainline. So, here goes.

A Self-Serve Eucharist and a Turning Point

A few years back, I was visiting a moderately progressive, non-denominational Christian church in my neck of the woods. I was leaving my position at one church and looking for a new place to worship with my family. So one Sunday, we visited this church.

It was typical of many progressive-leaning, non-denominational churches: evangelical-style liturgy with some traditional Christian elements sprinkled in. To be honest, I’m not sure they did any of it particularly well. In fairness, excellence isn’t what really matters in Christian worship—but too many seeker-sensitive churches have convinced us otherwise.

What really stuck with me was communion.

Near the end of the service, it was announced that communion—or Eucharist, I can’t remember how they described it—was available at a table on the side of the worship space. With one big, giant, massive caveat: it was self-serve. Like, people just walked up and grabbed the bread and the cup themselves.

I was displeased, to say the least. So offended by the whole setup that I stood there and refused to participate.

I’m a Denominational Mutt—and I Like It That Way

Now, to be clear, I’m someone who values different traditions and practices. As I like to brag, I’ve worked in ministry settings across five Christian traditions: Baptist, United Church of Christ, United Methodist, Disciples of Christ, and Catholic (hospital chaplaincy).¹

Despite growing up Baptist and being ordained in the Disciples of Christ, I’ve never performed baptism by immersion. Instead, I’ve done some form of sprinkling in three different church settings. (I’ll let the reader guess which.)

So yeah, my denominational identity is... complicated. Someone recently called me Methodist, and I had to clarify: “No. Technically not.” I appreciate the nuances, the distinctives, the reasons behind them.

When I worked in a Catholic hospital, I’d regularly sit in on Mass. Partly to get a break as an introvert, but also because I recognized the value and sacredness of their worship. I couldn’t receive communion as a non-Catholic, but I’d go forward for a blessing.

I have strong memories of taking communion as a Baptist—complete with a heavy emphasis on guilt and introspection. To this day, even when I receive the elements at the front of the church, I take them back to my seat so I can sit, reflect, and pray, if only for a moment.

In the UCC, I found myself explaining and advocating for infant baptism, especially to new members coming from conservative or non-denominational traditions. I’d explain that in our context, baptism came first, and confirmation was the public profession of faith that followed. In more conservative traditions, it’s flipped.

Why Denominations Matter

I say all this to say: my favorite thing about denominations is that people have spent years thinking deeply and seriously about this stuff.

The UCC has a Manual on Ministry. The UMC has a Book of Discipline. Heck, even on my shelf I’ve got a KJV Minister’s Bible replete with prayers and liturgies—or “order of services,” as a good Baptist would say!

What drives me absolutely bonkers is how evangelical and even progressive-leaning non-denominational churches have to reinvent the wheel every single time over every single thing.

Take this example. A few years ago, I attended an evangelical church that was technically part of the Restoration Movement² but very much operated like your average evangelical church.

Even though communion is historically important in that tradition, the leaders didn’t seem to know where to place it in the service. They jammed it in after a song near the end. Baptism was equally awkward—shoved right at the front, like even those time-honored ordinances had to bow to the new holy order: three opening songs, a sermon, and a closing song.

The New Sacraments: Worship and a Talk

Let’s be honest: in a lot of evangelicalism, the worship set and the message have become the sacraments. They wouldn’t use that language, but they treat them with that level of reverence.

Others have pointed this out, but I’ll say it too: Evangelicalism likely represents the fourth great wave of Christianity. Think:

1. Gregory the Great and monasticism,

2. the East-West split,

3. the Protestant Reformation...

4. and now, Evangelicalism or really non-denominationalism

Phyllis Tickle called this the 500-Year Rummage Sale of Christianity. I’m not sure she realized Non-denominationalism might be the next big thing in that cycle.

Ryan Burge recently suggested that evangelicalism—and more specifically, non-denominationalism—is now a larger segment of American Christianity than all the Mainline denominations combined. What was once 3% of American Christians is now 15%.

That’s wild. And it means that non-denominationalism—technically not the same, but functionally close to evangelicalism—is very likely that next “wave.”

The Disappearing Denominations

Now, while I can appreciate evangelicalism’s emphasis on piety and spiritual renewal, it often operates like Christianity showed up sometime around 1970.

And because of its magnetism, it’s pulling more and more denominational churches into its orbit. Just the other day, I talked to a local pastor who lamented how Baptist churches are downplaying their identity and rebranding as “community” or “non-denominational” churches. Distinctive worship styles and liturgies are melding into a generic Evangelical worship style—see for example the Church of the Nazarene, a historical evangelical denomination that emerged from Methodism where now many congregations seem generic Evangelical/non-denom.

To me, that’s a shame. I still have books on my shelf like Baptist Distinctives—books that take the time to faithfully and tediously (in a good way!) explain what makes Baptists Baptists.

A Whole Library of Thoughtfulness

I could go on:

• New Ecclesiology and Polity: The United Church of Christ

• Disciples: Reclaiming Our Identity, Reforming Our Practices

• The Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement

• The Biblical Faith of Baptists

These are books written by people who spent years—even lifetimes—thinking through what their tradition believes and why. That’s something worth preserving.

What We’re Losing—Even in the Mainline

But even within the Mainline, there’s a softening of what once made us distinct.³

Increasingly, Mainline Christianity seems to boil down to: inclusion + center-left politics (at least among clergy). Meanwhile, Evangelical and non-denominational churches offer modern worship + right-wing politics.

When my alma mater, Baptist Bible College, changed its name to Mission University, I understood the move. But I also lamented it. It felt like another signal that we’re losing something—again.

Yes, we live in a post-institutional world. And sure, I get why non-denominationalism is thriving from a sociological perspective.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

What I Still Appreciate

I appreciate the Disciples’ commitment to weekly communion and its centrality in worship.

I appreciate the covenant-autonomy paradox within the United Church of Christ.

I appreciate the sacramental theology of baptism and communion in the United Methodist Church.

I could go on.

I appreciate so much of it. And I’m glad others have spent years thinking about why these things matter—because they do.

Before We Throw It All Out...

In a time when many are tempted to abandon tradition for trendiness, I believe the Mainline Church still offers something vital—depth, thoughtfulness, and a theology rooted in generations of prayerful discernment.

I said this once about the Disciples of Christ and I still believe it; we have both theological width and depth. It’s a wonderful tradition formed from revival that has encapsulated a rich diversity of people and places.

Yes, we’ve got work to do. We need to confront our shortcomings and adapt where necessary. But we must not lose sight of the theological treasures we’ve inherited. These traditions weren’t just preserving the past. They were forming a people. A witness. A body.

Before we discard the old ways, maybe we should pause long enough to remember why they were built—and who they were built for.

1. One could argue I’m not working in a sixth—Evangelicalism/non-denominationalism (more on that to come).

2. Otherwise known as the Stone-Campbell Movement.

3. I even think the argument could be made the Mainliners started this whole thing with the adaption of the Revised Common Lectionary.