What is a Post-Evangelical Church?
If you’re hanging out here on the Harbor blog, you know the story: there is a mass exodus from conservative evangelicalism, an “exvangelical” movement. For some folks in this movement, church or Christianity or any religion is just no longer tenable. And yet, for some, there is still something compelling about the message of Jesus or the experience of divine love.
What’s available for people in this boat? In many parts of the world, there are churches, usually mainline Protestant, that might work. Congregations that are committed to anti-racism, full LGBTQ inclusion, and other justice causes. So the exvangelical-but-still-Christian person may be able to find a new church home if (A) there is a progressive church in their area, and (B) the individual is okay with a traditional church setting, which may include priestly vestments or a bell choir.
But some people live in rural contexts or small towns, and they will not find a progressive church. Or, even if they do, the priestly vestments might be a deal-breaker. Hence, churches like ours exist: experimental post-evangelical communities of folks seeking to minister to each other as we heal from religious trauma and re-form our faith commitments.
So far, so good. I’m blown away by the hospitality, inclusivity, intentional listening, and compassion of the folks in our community. But there is a very fair question lurking just around the corner as we continue to grow and gel as a faith community:
Will we become the very thing we left behind?
Three Bedrock Principles
This question is likely something every post-evangelical church (there are some others out there!) must grapple with. I’ve spoken with some other post-EV leaders, at times about this very question. Here are three ways that post-evangelicalism has been, is, and must continue to be different from its evangelical heritage. These three themes are fundamental features of our ministry philosophy at Harbor.
1. Going Out, but not Proselytizing
Evangelicalism’s connected themes around evangelism itself—mission, proselytization, gospel presentations, apologetics, the sinner’s prayer—are busted. Why? They frame all divine truth as moving in a one-way direction: from the enlightened Church that knows the Truth to the lost, reprobate, heathen world that does not. There is no room for real dialogue, only monologue; the evangelist will teach, reveal, share, and convince, while the unchurched will only receive and hopefully change their mind.
In other words, there is no mutuality.
The tone at Harbor is one of mutuality—not only among our people during our weekly discussions, but even as we go out into the world. We have so much wisdom to give and receive with each other… and with our Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, and non-religious friends (and, of course, every other faith tradition out there). So the impulse of our community is not to go out and convince everyone to become members of Harbor, or Christians, but to give and receive wisdom with people in mutual relationships of love.
Is there room for any sort of “outreach”? Sure! Harbor is here for anyone who needs and wants it. In fact, if you know someone who is on the ex-vangelical journey, feel free to point them to our website. But we’re not in the business of convincing people they need to join us if they don’t want to.
2. (Almost) No Gatekeeping
Not only do we reject the practice of trying to police other people’s beliefs, we also do not micromanage each other’s doctrines.
What does this look like in practice? Interesting dialogue! When we discuss Jesus’ nature, we might hear one person’s perspective that Jesus is fully God and fully human, the incarnated second Person of a divine Trinity. To another conversation partner, Jesus may be a God-inspired teacher who reveals spiritual truth without actually being uniquely God. What the world does NOT need is for us to debate among ourselves who is right and who is wrong. We need to have the conversation, because these beliefs are important and life-giving—but we do not all need to agree. We need to learn from each other.
And so, whatever your beliefs are about heaven or prayer or sacraments (or *gasp* even God’s existence), you should be able to feel at home in post-evangelical spaces like Harbor. We are committed to being includers, not excluders. Connectors, not gatekeepers.
Why, then, did I say almost no gatekeeping? Any community that intends to remain intact will need some norms to help determine how the people will treat each other. Harbor, and other spaces like it, are no exception. But—here is the key differentiation from evangelicalism—our norms do not include a list of beliefs. Instead, in our statement of norms, you will find relational safeguards like this one: “This space is safe to share all beliefs and opinions, except for those that dehumanize others (racism, sexism, homophobia, etc.).”
3. Flattening Hierarchies
We have a pastor (me—Jon). We have a leadership council (five of our members). We have some lovely volunteers who help with our justice initiatives and who facilitate discussion rooms. Having people help to guide the community is a practical necessity.
What we hope to never have is a one-up, one-down power dynamic between leaders and those they lead. We want every person in the community to embrace and help create a culture where every person’s voice is heard and every person’s story matters. Specifically, we want people of all races, sexualities, gender identities, ability levels, and classes to have the chance to fully participate in and give beautiful shape to our community.
One way we try to flatten power imbalances is by ditching sermons in favor of discussions. We simply do not need one person’s voice and perspective dominating our time together, week in and week out. Frankly, it’s amazing that sermons have lasted this long as a mainstay of church services! Just because someone is lovely (or went to seminary) does not mean they should continue to share their perspective, to the exclusion of everyone else’s in the community.
Of course, I don’t speak for all exvangelical people or post-evangelical churches. These are just some of the commitments of Harbor that I have also observed in other similar communities. Our hope, of course, is that we won’t become the very thing we hate.
Here’s hoping—and praying, if you’re into that sort of thing—that there will never be a post-evangelical industrial complex.
Do you have questions about Harbor or post-evangelical faith? You can schedule a call with Jon to chat about evolving beliefs, experimental church, or whatever else. (To be clear, this is free.)
