On Choosing a Christian Denomination

The other day I was on a Zoom call with a young man who wanted to talk about his struggles in choosing a denomination. This is a pretty familiar situation for me. For years, I’ve made videos about church history, interviewed scholars from across the Christian tradition, and been pretty public with my own wrestlings about which church to join.1 And as time has gone on, this has resulted in a lot of people reaching out and sharing their own struggles about feeling ecclesially homeless. Getting to hear people’s stories and try to, at the very least, reassure them that God is with them in the midst of these big and often frightening questions is something I feel incredibly blessed to be able to do. It’s not something I take lightly.

In the early part of this conversation, the young man shared that he’s felt drawn toward Catholicism for some time, but he still wasn’t sure. He said he had concerns similar to ones I had raised in various videos, but nevertheless, he still felt a pull toward the Catholic tradition. Eventually he got to the real core of the question, the thing I sense he was most keen to ask: “How much more research do I have to do before I join OCIA?”

And at that moment, I felt a familiar, sinking feeling that much of my work has hindered, rather than helped people.

Here’s what I mean.

I love theology. I find it endlessly fascinating, and it’s been a true joy for me to be able to make videos for the better part of the last decade sharing my own explorations and talking to some of the smartest people I can find about the questions that press on my mind.

However, when I get questions like this, I worry that things have gone wrong somewhere. My goal has been to provide people with high-quality information to help them on their journey, wherever God leads them. I believe that studying historical theology can lead people to experience a sense of wonder at the beauty, truth, and goodness that suffuses the Christian tradition and that this can be an impetus for growing in love of God and neighbor. I’m convinced those things and God’s active work can be found across the lines that divide us. It’s for that reason that I never try to talk people out of joining traditions different than mine if they’ve prayerfully discerned the Spirit is leading them in that direction.2 I’m genuinely happy for people when they take a step of faith into the unknown spurred on by a desire to trust God.

The problem is, all of this “content,” all this pontificating about the faith, can make people think that if they haven’t answered all the questions I’ve raised, then maybe they shouldn’t make a decision. Maybe there’s this giant intellectual mountain to climb before they can look out with clarity on the ecclesial landscape and finally select a course of action.

But that was never the goal. Or at least, it certainly isn’t now. Maybe at one point, without realizing it, I thought it would be good if more people shared the intellectual struggles I had or the sense of feeling stuck that I had for many years as I wondered whether to become Catholic, Orthodox, or something else. To the best of my self-knowledge, I don’t think that’s the case, but we’re often mysteries, even to ourselves.

What I can say for sure though now is that, having gone through much of that myself and heard from countless people over the years about their own struggles, I genuinely do not wish this type of paralysis on anyone. In fact, more than ever, my advice is to take a leap. “We live forward and understand backward,” Kierkegaard once said.3 In most of our life, we’re forced to make decisions when we don’t have as much data as we’d like, when things aren’t entirely clear, and when part of us whispers, “what if this is a terrible decision?”

It’s in the midst of that uncertainty that I desire more than anything to offer people the words of St. Julian of Norwich, “all shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”4 This isn’t to downplay the importance of these questions or make light of the differences that exist between Christian traditions. It’s to emphasize something much more fundamental: God’s love for mankind is far greater than we could ever ask, think, or imagine.

So much of the back and forth about “should I be Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant?” has the knock-on effect of shrinking our view of God until He is no more than a professor with His hands tied behind His back, regretting to inform us that, much as He’d like to let us pass the class, the Scantron results of our theology test indicate that He must do otherwise. Unfortunately, we made a wrong turn in our theological reasoning somewhere around the year 451 or 1054 or 1517.

And I suppose these days I just want to remind them that God is far bigger than our questions. That theology matters, it matters greatly, but it ought to be done from a place of pursuing Christ and being assured of His love for us rather than from a white-knuckled, frantic sense of fear over getting things wrong. Seek Christ, take a leap, and know that all shall be well. That’s my constant refrain.

And so, when this young man asked me how much more research he had to do before joining OCIA, something he really felt God was leading him toward doing, my answer was what it almost always is to people in this situation: “you don’t have to do anymore research before taking the next step.” There’s not some list of books one has to read, number of hours spent, or series of debate opponents one must knock down before taking the next step. In fact, living out our faith in the midst of uncertainty, taking that step when we’re a bit afraid, that’s some of the best “research” we can do.

Now, hear me, I’m not saying that hitting the books is bad. I’m not saying we should abandon reason and just go off our feelings. Nor am I saying that we should rush into every decision. Prudence is indeed a virtue. But in my experience, most people are struggling with indecision more than rashness. They’re inundated with information. They’ve already read or learned more about church history and the disputed questions than 99% of Christians throughout history. Plenty of saints have been made without ever watching a single debate on the filioque. Many people, at least in my experience, need to simply take the next small step, whatever that is, rather than standing still. That step might be a step deeper into their own tradition, choosing to set down roots. It could be a step away from their tradition. Perhaps they email that priest, register for that class, or have that conversation. Maybe they find it’s the wrong step. That’s ok. Life is long, decisions are made with the information we have available, and sometimes we get stuff wrong. But faith is meant to be lived in motion, not a ceaseless, anxious motion, but a steady pursuit of God.

It’s also meant to be lived with other people and in the context of the church, not just by processing information online. If someone feels God is leading them toward the Catholic Church, I’d rather them join OCIA than spend a few more hours watching YouTube videos. Go forth into the world and live the faith in your local context.

If people have concrete questions about church history or theology, I hope the videos I make are helpful. I wouldn’t make them if I thought they couldn’t be useful. Sometimes, we really do just need a bit of information to help us sort through things. But more information can also be a hindrance at times. And when it is, I hope people know that they’re free to take a leap with what they’ve got.

And here’s the thing, it’s not as though theology is just for helping you choose a church. I think we’ve become so catechized by polemics that we’ve forgotten that theology isn’t really just about settling the “who’s right?” questions. It should be a joyous exploration into the God who has revealed Himself in the person of Jesus in such a way that we can truly know His character while simultaneously never exhausting the fullness of who He is, and by studying theology, we can be led into a deeper and deeper sense of wonder before the God who is far better than we could ever know.

Right now, the internet is full of people giving you their opinions on theology and trying to convince you to join their team. Unfortunately, many of them are smarter than you, have read more than you, and, worst of all, they disagree with one another. You may feel that, until you can disprove those on every side save the correct one, you can’t move forward. But if you take this route, you will likely never move forward. Or, when you do, you’ll realize that your unassailable foundation of 100% theological correctness may, in fact, have some cracks in it. And if your faith is built on being the smartest person in the room, it is prone to crumble.

But the life of faith is not about defeating every counterargument. “Blessed are the winners of debates” is not found in the Sermon on the Mount. “Be ready to give an account of the hope you have”? Absolutely. But that account need not be perfect. It need not be the argument to end all arguments. It may be faith like a mustard seed, it might be a “Lord I believe, help my unbelief!” but I hope it’s a faith you can embrace with all of who you are, that rests not on your amazing research skills but instead on a sure sense of God’s goodness.

If you’re struggling with indecision regarding the church, you don’t need my permission to take the next step. You don’t need to be able to convince the never-ending chorus of people on the internet that you’re right. Take some of this weight off your shoulders and accept the easy yoke and light burden of Christ. Keep your eyes upon Him, look full in His wonderful face, and the opinions of man will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.

Seek Christ, take that step, and know that all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.