American Protestantism over the last half-century has been characterized by numerous denominational divisions. A 1986 essay Andrew G. Walker even used the language of a “Third Schism” to describe the ongoing separation of orthodox Christianity from its progressive, revisionist forms. In many cases it has been the conservatives, the orthodox, the traditionalists, the evangelicals—whatever we want to call ourselves—who have left. We have conducted a cost-benefit analysis. On the one hand, we can stay and fight for the soul of denominations for the rest of our lives. On the other, we can leave and form new denominations, focusing on the work of evangelism, mission, and service. We have commonly chosen the latter.
In a podcast that aired a couple of years ago, Aaron Renn referred to those of us who have left as “losers.” We have given up too quickly, he opined. We underestimate the values of institutions. He recently interviewed a young Christian who goes by the handle of “Redeemed Zoomer,” whose platform involves playing Minecraft while talking about church matters on YouTube. Redeemed Zoomer is part of a new movement called “Operation Reconquista.” Its goal is to reclaim the mainline denominations for orthodoxy. Its basic principle is that progressive Christianity invariably declines, while orthodox bodies tend to grow. The strategy, then, is to find the orthodox enclaves within these denominations, join and support them, and wait for the death of the progressive hegemony.
Having been through my share of denominational battles, I must admit some skepticism. I hope it is not simply cynicism. I want Redeemed Zoomer to be right, and for years I thought as he does. Why should the conservatives give up the denomination? In the United Methodist Church, at least, the conservatives had the votes. We won the legislative battle. It never occurred to me that many of our bishops would openly reject the decisions of our General Conference, the highest body in our form of conciliar governance. I believed it was possible to carve out a process for denominational reform. I was naive.
I left the UMC—the denomination of my baptism, upbringing, seminary education, and ordination—in 2022. I had been a United Methodist for fifty-one years, and it was a painful process to leave. It cost me friendships and professional relationships. To let go of the idea of the reform of the UMC was hard. Nevertheless I had to face facts: our strategy of working through the denomination’s legislative processes had not succeeded. It was not going to succeed. Many higher-ups in the UMC had simply set those processes aside and made them irrelevant. One way or another, they would have their way.
The Reconquista strategy is different. It relies on two contingencies. First, the progressive wing of the church must eventually fade away. That seems likely. Progressive Christianity tends to decline wherever it is manifest. Second, the conservative enclaves in the church must grow, or at least maintain themselves, over a period of decades. This is more uncertain. When church growth happens, it most often happens among conservative churches, but conservatism is no guarantor of growth, or even maintenance of the status quo.
There are many traditional, orthodox Christians still among the mainline denominations. It is often a mistake to judge the members or the churches of a denomination by its outward-facing representatives. Perhaps, then, it will be possible to support these more theologically traditional holdouts over a period of decades. It will require, however, not just maintenance, but active recruitment. For one reason or another, some people will leave. They may move away, die, or find other churches they like better.
The vision of Operation Reconquista is ambitious, but then we do serve a God who can do abundantly more than all we can ask or imagine. Nevertheless the process of taking denominations back for orthodoxy is more complex than their strategy suggests. There are several reasons for this:
Denominations are more than local churches.
Denominations consist not just of congregations, but boards, agencies, and hierarchies that ostensibly support the work of the church. At least in my former tradition, these were mainly populated by progressives, who, in turn, tended to hire people who shared their vision of the Christian life. Further, at times these boards and agencies exert considerable influence over the shape of the denomination.
Episcopal systems may complicate things.
The Reconquista approach probably has more promise in congregational systems than in episcopal systems (systems that have bishops). In a congregational system, if the pastor is orthodox and the congregation is orthodox, that pastor may be there for quite a long time. The result could be years, and even decades, during which the congregation is continually formed in the orthodox faith of the church. In an episcopal system, however, a progressive bishop may decide to appoint a progressive pastor to a conservative congregation. That progressive pastor may in turn hire staff members who support his or her theological vision. In such a case, traditionally minded Christians may not stick around. Perhaps they won’t feel they are being fed in worship. Perhaps they will want their children trained up in a more traditional vision of the faith. Thus systems in which pastors are subject to reappointment by a bishop present a significant liability for the Reconquista movement.
The long haul can be difficult.
If you want to draw a conservative line in the mainline sand, you’d better have thick skin. Progressivism is not liberalism. Liberalism involves things like open debate, respectful disagreement, and intellectual virtue. “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it”—that kind of thing. Though there are liberal progressives, they are in ever-shorter supply. Progressivism is rooted in notions of radical autonomy, expressive individualism, and competing power structures. To oppose progressive goals is to become an oppressor, a category that can be expressed through an ever-expanding lexicon of damning epithets. I was not prepared for the vitriol that would come my way when I began to gain a bit of visibility as a (relatively) conservative Christian. The repeated attempts to shame me publicly, destroy my reputation, and diminish my influence were surprising and painful. I’ve developed a thick skin over the years, but it took a while. Perhaps the good folks of Reconquista already know this. If they don’t, they will soon become aware of it.
Membership retention will be challenging.
For a church in a progressive denomination, it may be difficult to get conservatives to stick around. Today most people have very little denominational allegiance. In fact the trend in American Christianity is toward non-denominationalism. Conservatives within a progressive denomination may legitimately ask the question of why they shouldn’t leave for the non-denominational, evangelical church down the street. At that church, they won’t have to deal with social media stories about the shenanigans in their denomination. They won’t have to worry that a portion of their giving will be syphoned off to progressive causes with which they don’t agree. Why, they might ask, should I support financially church agencies that advocate for pro-choice initiatives? The response—We’re trying to take this denomination back for orthodoxy—may be too abstract and far-reaching to compel them to stay.
The jury is out on the effectiveness of Operation Reconquista. Pray for these young folks who are committed to instilling an orthodox vision of the Christian faith across the mainline traditions. The path ahead won’t be easy, but the goal is worthwhile.
If we think of denominations as institutions, it sometimes becomes difficult to “retake” them. If we think of denominations in terms of groups of people bound together by relationships and covenant (and to a certain extent, doctrinal agreement) then it’s possible to retake the soul of the denomination while leaving the institution behind. Institutions are a wineskin, not the wine. If a wineskin is breaking down, it’s okay to pour the wine into new wineskins. I’m an outsider looking in, but that’s how I view the Global Methodist Church: it’s not a breaking up of Methodism, but rather a pouring of what remains of traditional Methodism into a new wineskin.
Our little, rural church went through the discernment process with our DS as prescribed by the NE Conference. The outcome was, I think, inevitable at this point. Having been folded into a 3-point charge a couple years back, most of our parishioners are young in the faith and do not understand the issues. Besides that, we only discussed our stance on LGBTQ+ issues and not the larger malfeasance of our bishops and clergy. There was no path to separation where we would have a pastor, and that scared people. So we stayed. And my wife and I, and the other Lay Speaker stayed. Not so much for the redemption of the denomination (which I hold eminently possible as long as the Word is read and the Spirit moves), but to keep our little church alive and growing. I expect there are many such congregations in the US.