The church as a whole is realigning in North America. Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, Anglicans, Episcopalians and other historic denominations are reorganizing into three distinct groups that can be designated Group A, Group B and Group C.

These three groups are forming around shared theological convictions and their approach to our current missiological context. As this reorganization happens, these three groups are beginning to work and interrelate with one another, some for the first time.

My experience in working with nearly 100 different regional or national denominational bodies over the last 13 years has shown me smaller, more theologically and missiologically cohesive associations of churches are more effective in their particular mission and the broader mission of the gospel.

Three new alignments

Group A is drawn to a more complementarian approach to male and female roles in leadership and to a historic or orthodox approach to human sexuality.

Group B is drawn to a more mutualist or egalitarian approach to male and female roles in leadership—or they see gender roles as a disputable matter—and to a historic or orthodox approach to human sexuality.

Group C is drawn to a more mutualist or egalitarian approach to female and male—and perhaps even nonbinary—roles and to a more progressive or contemporary approach to human sexuality. Some in Group C consider human sexuality a disputable matter while others consider it something fundamental.

While some suggest the reorganizing is more like a chess game in which multiple pieces are moving in multiple directions at the same time, my experience is friends in each of these groups are moving in a manner similar enough to be cohesive with one another on a range of issues.

Among those stemming from the historic SBC, the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship is moving into a Group C position, and the SBC keeps doubling down on its Group A position. Centrist evangelical Baptists in both Texas and Virginia long have carried a more Group B disposition, and their number is growing throughout North America.

New possibilities for Baptists

As Baptists realign, what might an SBC-affiliated church do in this moment?

There are some—perhaps many—who will wait for the SBC to take some action against them. There are others looking to be more proactive and to find a missional and theological fit for their congregations and their cooperation in the gospel.

Whether a church waits or is proactive, there are good options for those Baptist churches who want to cooperate with like-minded churches. The following seven options—listed alphabetically—currently appear to be among the best fits.

1. Ascent Movement

Originating from discussion among Baptist leaders from Texas and Virginia, Ascent is a movement of like-minded churches centered on the mission of engaging the world—particularly North America—with the gospel, with a bent toward the post-Christian realities in which we find ourselves.

Ascent is not another denomination, but a new kind of “connectionalism,” nor is it exclusively Baptist. Ascent is “Baptist based but not Baptist bound.” In addition to Baptists, Ascent includes evangelical Methodist, Church of God, Mennonite, Anabaptist, Pentecostal and nondenominational church leaders. Ascent firmly supports women in leadership.

Ascent’s convictions are captured in the Cape Town Commitment of the 3rd Lausanne Congress on World Evangelization. Ascent might be a place to look if you believe “denominations” are not the future, but something new—galvanized around mission, yet still maintaining some of the best qualities of our denominational heritage—is.

2. Converge Worldwide (formerly the Baptist General Conference)

One of the most effective denominational bodies today is the former Baptist General Conference.

This national denomination has grown through a fierce commitment to church planting and through a commitment to engage leaders of color at all levels of its leadership. Converge Worldwide also makes space for women in leadership at all levels.

They are a good fit for those looking for a smaller, well-organized and largely conservative Baptist family.

3. Ecclesia Network

Ecclesia is a free church network of congregations started around 2010 primarily as a network of church plants. Today, it has roughly 30 congregations scattered around the United States. These congregations range from house church networks to multi-site congregations of various sizes.

Ecclesia is fundamentally a relational network that stands in sympathy with the Cape Town Commitment and fully supports women in leadership. Almost every Ecclesia congregation has female pastors, leaders or elders.

4. The Evangelical Congregational Church

The Evangelical Congregational Church is a small denomination, largely present in the Rust Belt states of Pennsylvania through Illinois. They are historically Wesleyan/Arminian with a long-maintained congregational polity.

They tend to be more conservative culturally and might be a great fit for an SBC church unsettled with increasing Calvinistic influence in the SBC. They also make space for the licensing of female leaders as deacons.

5. The Evangelical Free Church of America

Though not Baptist, this free church denomination is theologically similar to the SBC. Like the SBC, they have become increasingly Calvinist in the last few years. However, they are largely without the influence of the political version of conservative Christianity among their leaders that seems present in the SBC.

While they do not recognize the ordination of women denominationally, they do stress local church autonomy on this matter. Within the Evangelical Free Church, you will find a few churches with women leading as elders, through preaching and in other roles.

6. The North American Baptist Conference

Emerging from its German heritage, the North American Baptist Conference is approximately 400 churches scattered across the United States and Canada, with larger concentrations in the western regions of the two countries and across their shared border.

While the NABC reserves the role of senior pastor for men, they support the role of women in other pastoral and ministry leadership positions within the church.

7. Transformation Ministries

Transformation Ministries is the new name of the Pacific Southwest Region that left the American Baptist Churches USA when that denomination wrestled with human sexuality in the 2000s.

Though largely based in Southern California and Arizona, they have grown across the country through church planting. They still have many of the features you might expect a historic denomination to have. They also support women in leadership.

Connectionalism’s new importance

While some bemoan the fracturing of the church over these important matters, I see a new kind of unity emerging.

Instead of being organized for mission together by categories largely important in centuries past, the church is being reorganized according to what it believes is faithful to the gospel now.

This new unity will mean greater cohesion and possibly greater effectiveness for all groups, provided they maintain a high Christology and a call to lead people toward discipleship to Jesus Christ.

Chris Backert is the national director of Fresh Expressions and recently was named Ascent’s movement leader. This article is adapted from a longer treatment of denominational reorganization and realignment available here. For more information about any of the groups listed above, email chris.backert@freshexpressions.com.

This article is 9 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

On Friday nights in the fall, I communicate from the center—the center of a high school football field. Sometimes both the decibels and the emotions are rather high. As a referee—the one with the white hat—clear and compelling communication with everyone involved, including those with competing interests, is as important as my grasp of the rules.

Whether it’s a high school football game, a school with various constituencies or a congregation that values disparate opinions, to hold the center is not easy.

David Brubaker can help us.

Brubaker is a dean at Eastern Mennonite University and a master mediator. I became a fan and student of Brubaker when I was preparing to help churches deal with conflict through the Center for Healthy Churches. His book When the Center Does Not Hold is a helpful resource as we talk about “clear and compelling communication of centrism.”

Brubaker teaches us to communicate with clarity, compassion, courage and connection—four “Cs” he attributes to John Maxwell. Let’s consider each of those, with an emphasis on holding the center of “big tent” congregations.

Clarity

In congregations that value diversity of opinion, it is important that the leader be clear—clear with himself or herself and clear with the church.

To be clear with oneself is to understand one’s values and to act consistent with those values. To be clear with oneself requires investing enough prayerful time and energy to know what he or she believes about matters that really matter. We simply cannot afford not to hold convictions on key topics.

The congregation deserves to know what their spiritual leaders believe. People tend to feel manipulated when their leaders are not forthcoming about their beliefs. I believe the people in the church I serve deserve to know my position on important topics—even the tough, divisive ones.

A lack of clarity is unhealthy even for the leader. Russell Moore observed in his latest book, Losing Our Religion, “[Y]ear after year of playing to whatever ‘the base’ wants or expects from the church of Jesus Christ does something not only to the institution … but also to the souls of those playing the game.”

Cognitive dissonance weighs heavy on the spiritual leader.

Brubaker quotes Brené Brown: “Daring leaders who live into their values are never silent about hard things.”

He also echoed the observation by Speed Leas that murkiness is as dangerous as authoritarianism.

Compassion

Brubaker notes: “Clarity compels us to speak with conviction. Compassion invites us to listen with concentration.”

Arrogance and indifference from the leader are lethal. After all, we are shepherds, not CEOs. It requires a loving heart and a thick skin to deal compassionately with people whose views differ radically from our own—especially if we often find ourselves in their crosshairs. But if Jesus is our model of leadership, we have to love people enough to hurt.

Courage

Because so many of us lead with our hearts, it requires a great deal of valor to risk having those hearts broken. We are tempted to be reticent regarding divisive issues. Nonetheless, people deserve clarity, honesty and the willingness to make tough calls from those who lead and serve them. Clarity, honesty and the willingness to make tough calls require grit.

The desire for approval, so common among us, makes leadership in conflict difficult. Yet, the willingness to endure criticism and disapproval is a brave choice good leaders make.

Connection

I admit my natural response to conflict is to withdraw emotionally from those who oppose my leadership. It’s easier emotionally to write people off—to dismiss them. But in my heart of hearts, I recognize how gutless and unhealthy that is. So, when I’m at my best, I engage them.

It is a hard choice, for example, to visit our detractors in the hospital, to write them notes of congratulations after significant events or to officiate the funerals of their parents. A commitment to remaining connected means the choice to care for people who really don’t like us.

Treating people with dignity does not require our admiration. It does require intentional connection, unless, as Brubaker notes, the relationship had become abusive.

Those are the four “Cs” I learned from Brubaker. I would add one word of my own: Infrequency. Too bad it doesn’t start with a ‘c.’

Infrequency

The Bible spends little time on the topics that dominate today’s culture wars. So should we.

Out of respect for the authority of the Bible, I believe we should speak as clearly and courageously as the Bible speaks about hot topics. But, out of that same respect for the authority of the Bible, we should hesitate to speak more frequently than Scripture does about those divisive subjects.

The spiritual lostness of humankind, the injustices experienced by the marginalized, the Great Commission and the Great Commandment—the Bible speaks often of such things. Our preaching should reflect the priorities of the Bible.

If we are going to be salt and light, we must tackle—from a biblical perspective—the issues being debated in our wider culture. Yet, hot topics should not define us. We should be known for timeless truths, of which grace is a principal.

When we spend a lot more time than the Bible does on particular issues, we begin to sound like we are driven by agendas rather than God’s Spirit. Some ministers seem to like a good fight, and that seems like more of a personality flaw than faithfulness to Scripture.

As I saw somewhere, “Anyone can steer the ship when the seas are calm.” These days of such polarization demand our clear and compelling communication. They require the courage of conviction and the choice of compassion. These days require the wisdom to know when to speak and when to remain silent.

So, buckle up, friend. Holding the Baptist center will require the best leadership we can offer.

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 9 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 8 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

When the North African theologian Tertullian (c. A.D. 155–220) posed the now famous question, “What does Jerusalem have to do with Athens, the Church with the Academy, the Christian with the heretic?” in Prescriptions against Heretics 7, he intentionally was contrasting the “sacred” with the “secular” and divine revelation with philosophical speculation.

Paul, the apostle whom Tertullian loved, also could think in opposing pairs. He did so, for example, when he juxtaposed light and darkness, day and night, and waking and sleeping (see 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11; compare 2 Corinthians 7:14).

Jesus, the Lord whom Paul loved, was equally apt in pitting, for example, truth against lies, night against darkness, and life against death (note John 8:44; 9:4-5; 11:25).

In concert with other ancient teachers, Jesus, Paul and Tertullian set believers (or insiders) over against unbelievers (or outsiders) in an effort to convey they were poles apart. A chasm, as it were, was fixed between the two (see Luke 16:26). In Sesame Street parlance: “One of these things is not like the other. Come on, can you tell which one?”

While such binary pairings, which also feature in the Old Testament (see, for instance, Deuteronomy 30:19; Psalm 1), are invaluable in shaping the identity and morality of believing communities, if used exclusively, an imbalance may develop, “a binary bias,” if you will.

Scripture, for example, instructs us not to be “squeezed into the world’s mold” (Romans 12:2), but it also calls us to be salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16) and “to do good to all people” (1 Thessalonians 5:15; Galatians 6:10).

‘Why can’t we be friends?’

The subject of the present essay is not how Christians might best relate to non-Christians. Rather, this article focuses upon how Christ-followers who have decidedly different views on various matters might relate and cooperate with one another constructively, on which the above paragraphs arguably cast some valuable light.

Not a few of us who self-identify as centrists have experienced (sometimes significant) disagreement with sisters and brothers both to our left and right. As it happens, fundamentalism is not the preserve of either extreme conservatism or liberalism. Indeed, it can be sobering to realize how wide the divide between the two poles actually is.

If, for example, the “right” can fashion the Bible into an idol by making it in principle—if not practice—an object of worship, thereby turning the Trinity into Father, Son and Holy Scripture, the “left” can diminish or even dismiss God’s word.

To take another example, if the “right” engages in “civil religion” by dangerously conflating God and country, reducing God to a totem and wrapping the LORD in a national symbol, the “left” embraces a form of civic life that tends to privatize religion, cordoning it off from the public square.

Additionally, if the “right” has adopted wholesale a contemporary iteration of the “moral majority,” the “left” has jettisoned time-honored commitments to Judeo-Christian values.

Controversy and conflict between Christ-followers on the left and the right can grow especially acute over political affiliations, preferred media outlets and “hot button” ethical issues, not to mention a myriad of biblical and theological issues, some of which are foundational to “traditional, orthodox” Christianity—for example, how one perceives God and understands and speaks of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection.

Meeting in the middle for the good of the gospel

In forming my own theological convictional world and in relating to believers across the theological spectrum, I have benefited from something referred to as the “Wesleyan quadrilateral.”

This valuable approach to Christian life and faith posits the primacy and centrality of Scripture in shaping belief and behavior, while simultaneously recognizing the importance of tradition, reason and experience.

When seeking to find common ground with other Christ-followers, I start with Scripture, which I regard to be authoritative for matters of faith and practice. Common ground also might be found with other believers through the orthodox Christian tradition. Reason—though limited and tainted—and experience—though contextual and personal— also may assist when seeking to find a place to stand together.

The latter three, however helpful they may be, ultimately are—in my view and according to the Wesleyan quadrilateral—subject to Scripture, under which we must stand and seek to understand, as it does not interpret itself.

In my admittedly limited experience and exposure, I often have found it possible and profitable to collaborate with those who, arguably, are to my theological right when evangelistic emphases and efforts are in view. The same has been true with large group gatherings, such as concerts, camps and conferences, and with times set aside for spiritual renewal, praise and prayer.

Meanwhile, I also have found it valuable and meaningful to join together with those who might be to my theological left to combat, for example, racism, poverty and ecological concerns and to support women in ministry, religious liberty and interreligious dialogue.

The previous two paragraphs are not necessarily meant to suggest the left has no interest in the former or the right in the latter. I simply am seeking to offer examples, upon which others might care to tweak or improve.

Not infrequently, “conservatives” and “progressives” can meet in the middle for common cause and gospel good. Centrist Christian educational institutions, denominations, organizations and congregations often are able to rise above polarities for the expansion of God’s kingdom and for the benefit of many.

Building bridges instead of blowing them up

Although I am no expert in bringing together people across theological divides and, arguably, can do a better job in doing so than I have done until now, I would like to offer a few suggestions for those who would care to engage in this painstaking work, which can be risky business.

1. Be in contact and conversation with people who are not your theological clones. If we are not careful, we can create theological echo chambers. We must resist the temptation to retreat to our own theological corners and playgrounds.

2. Forego labelling and name-calling. Vilifying the other to glorify oneself is not helpful. We do well to remember people are far more complex than a simple label allows. As one wag once quipped, “God created people, and people create pigeonholes.”

3. Try to work through your theological differences with others in person or by Zoom, not on Twitter. Small (Zoom) rooms are a better venue for working through conflict than social media.

4. Relatedly, do not “cancel” those with whom you disagree and experience conflict.

5. Finally, remember those with whom you have theological differences are to be loved and prayed for, as they, too, were created in the image and likeness of God and are people for whom Christ died.

Todd Still is dean and professor of Christian Scriptures at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. This article is 8 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 7 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

Perhaps you have heard this anonymous “little ditty” somewhere along the way: “To dwell above with saints we love / Oh that will be grace and glory! / But to live below with saints we know / Ah! That’s a different story!”

While humorous to most of us, this hackneyed turn of phrase accurately captures a common Christian experience—namely annoyance, aggravation or even anger toward other Christ-followers.

As it happens, not a few of us have become rather adroit at rubbing one another the wrong way as we seek to follow the Way. Like porcupines on a cold winter’s night, we need one another, yet we needle one another.

Over the span of my ministry—some 40 years now—I have observed and experienced a curious, if troubling, phenomenon. Conflict often is most disconcerting and acute with those with whom we hold most in common. Given that I majored in sociology as an undergraduate, this should not have surprised me.

Based, at least in part, upon the classic work of Lewis A. Coser, The Functions of Social Conflict, it is all but axiomatic—at least in social-scientific circles—that close contact with others—including family members, for example—can create meaningful, mutual relationships.

If or when something goes south, however, division and discord, not to mention rancor and resentment, can rear their ugly heads and grow like a rapidly spreading wildfire. While such thankfully is not always the case, it has been so among evangelicals of late.

What differences might obscure

In recent years, it has become increasingly clear to me that “convictional congruence” can sometimes eclipse “denominational allegiance” in importance. For my part, “I am BGCT-born and BGCT-bred, and when I die, I will be BGCT-dead”—or something like that.

That being said, I have found it both surprising and significant that I sometimes seem to share as much, if not more, in common with Christians from other denominations with respect to certain theological convictions and ethical commitments, if not ecclesial and liturgical patterns, than I do with some people within my own, bewilderingly broad Baptist tribe.

If this strikes you as a far-fetched notion, it is worth framing and reflecting upon a question like this: What do Alliance Baptists, for example, have in common with Southern Baptists? Once one moves beyond the denominational label, congregational polity and certain observable liturgical practices, theological and ethical differences appear to be greater than not.

Evangelicals generally defined

Though fraught because the term has been hijacked by those with certain political agendas, not a few Baptists regard and describe themselves not only as “orthodox” believers—embracing and espousing what most Christians in most places at most times have embraced and espoused—but also as “evangelicals.”

For my part, with respect to what constitutes an evangelical, I have been aided by the so-called “Bebbington quadrilateral,” posited by the British Baptist historian David W. Bebbington.

Bebbington maintains there are four primary components and commitments that demarcate and animate evangelicals:

1. Biblicism—the belief that all essential spiritual truth is found in the Bible, which is authoritative for matters of faith and practice.

2. Crucicentrism—a focus upon Christ Jesus and his life-giving, atoning death upon the cross.

3. Conversionism—the view that all people need to experience conversion and regeneration through Jesus Christ.

4. Activism—the belief that the gospel is to be expressed through effort, that is, good works.

Although not all church historians would describe and delineate evangelicals or evangelicalism precisely as Bebbington does, his quadrilateral has been adopted by many as a “rough and ready” description of the movement.

Finding common ground

As it happens, however, evangelicals are anything but monochrome. If evangelicals are united by the four aforementioned convictions, one does not have to look too hard to discover decided differences within evangelicalism.

For example, while some evangelicals are content to speak of the Bible as authoritative and inspired, others insist on using the word “inerrancy.” While some evangelicals are “Calvinists,” other evangelicals are “Arminians.” While some evangelicals are “dispensationalists,” other evangelicals are “amillenialists.”

While some evangelicals are “complimentarians,” other evangelicals are “egalitarians.” While some evangelicals are political and social “conservatives,” other evangelicals are political and social “progressives.”

Given this complex though realistic picture, one may reasonably ask if it is even possible to find “common ground with different centers.” My answer is a qualified “yes.” It requires, however, a habit of heart and mind willing to say: “In the essentials, unity; in nonessentials liberty; in all things charity.”

It also requires piety, patience, perseverance and not a little bit of humility in seeking to discern what the (non)essentials are. This is as simple and as hard as it sounds.

On loving a five-point Calvinist

Although I now have been on the faculty of Baylor’s Truett Seminary for 20 years, I started my academic career at Dallas Baptist University at the invitation of then-President Gary Cook.

I was delighted to be there and have wonderful memories of the five years I spent at DBU teaching courses in New Testament and Greek to wonderful students.

Yet, it was clear to me from the beginning that a goodly and sometimes vocal majority of the faculty in the Mary C. Crowley College of Christian Faith were very wary of me. Indeed, a few of them made it crystal clear they wished I never had been hired and did what they could to cast aspersions on me and my theology.

If this was the rule in the college, there was an exception in the person of David Naugle, now of blessed memory. Early and protracted theological conversations with my learned colleague in philosophy revealed he was a five-point Calvinist.

Although I was and am highly allergic to that theological vantage point—for reasons I have neither time nor space to consider here—I dare say I never have been closer to a professional colleague than I was to “Davey.”

We shared many meals together, played many rounds of golf together, played many games of racquetball together, played in a band together and spent hours on end talking about family and theology, students and school.

How could and did this happen? I am not entirely certain. We certainly did not lay down our well-known theological differences. We did, however, let down our guard and agreed to disagree about this thing and that.

Furthermore, we opted to focus on all we shared in common. Others were puzzled how we could be so close. We might have been too had we ever stopped to give it much thought, but there were more important things for us to do together.

Davey Naugle left a legacy in various and sundry ways. One way his life has impacted my life indelibly and irrevocably is through his magnanimous, generous spirit.

On my better days, I am able “to keep the main thing the main thing” like Davey did. On my lesser days, I allow the secondary and tertiary to become primary. I know better. Perhaps you do, too.

Todd Still is dean and professor of Christian Scriptures at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. This article is 7 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 6 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

The evangelical movement, with which so many centrist Baptists still identify, emerged in the early 1900s as a positive answer to both the frailty of religious liberalism and the rancor of religious fundamentalism.

Evangelicalism was born in the gap between extremes. Centrism today has the same opportunity evangelicalism did when it stepped into the wide religious gap a century ago.

But stepping into the center inevitably results in arrows from both sides.

Jonathan Bass relates in Blessed are the Peacemakers that during the Civil Rights Movement in Birmingham, Ala., Rabbi Milton Grafman declared himself caught between the racist bigots on one side and “bigoted liberals” on the other (p. 178).

In Why We Can’t Wait, Martin Luther King declared he was standing between “the ‘do-nothingness’ of the complacent” and the “hatred and despair of the black national” (p. 87).

You and I are not the first ones to experience the exasperation of the gap.

Responsible to get involved

Part of our responsibility is to step into the public square with both conviction and compassion. That means engaging in today’s spiritual and cultural controversies, including racism, the exclusive centrality of Jesus, homosexuality and gender identity. Anyone who steps into the middle of those hot topics will be criticized from both directions.

It’s true that some people make their way to the center on important topics because they are people-pleasers. But it doesn’t take long to realize, instead of pleasing everybody, being at the center pleases almost nobody.

We talk a lot about developing thick skin, and thick skin is necessary. Yet, no matter how well I understand the psychology of conflict, and no matter how well I steel myself against attacks, it still smarts a bit when people slam me. I draw strength from the reassurance I’m not the only one in the gap getting slammed.

If you are leading from the center and are up to your eyeballs in alligators, you need to know you are not alone. “Misery loves company,” they say, and if you’re in a tough spot as a centrist leader, then know you’ve got company. War stories, bruises and scars come with the territory. Knowing and accepting that is reassuring.

Responding with grace to criticism

The first lesson is being a courageous and vocal centrist will result in taking some licks. More importantly, we have to learn how to respond with grace to those licks.

Proverbs 15:1 reads, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” That verse reminds me of Verbal Judo, a book and course scripted for law enforcement officers. Verbal Judo is also recommended for sports officials.

That’s important to me because I referee high school football as a hobby. I stand, literally and physically, in the center of a football field, practicing “centrism” every Friday night in the fall.

As a referee, I’ve read the book Verbal Judo and made a list of major points. I go over my list every Friday afternoon in the fall in preparation for that evening’s game during which there almost certainly will be some moments of conflict.

Here are three points on my Verbal Judo list that might be helpful to all of us as we talk about taking our licks as centrist Baptists:

• Treat people with dignity and respect.
• Build bridges; don’t burn bridges.
• Take insults with style and disregard your ego. Less ego = more power.

Verbal judo is helpful whether we are standing in the middle of the playing field or in the middle of a spirited ecclesiastical debate.

The sting of rejection

Having talked about being criticized from multiple directions, let’s talk about another way we have to “take our licks.” Sometimes the licks come, not from being attacked, but from seeing people leave.

Years ago, in a previous church, a couple who were members of our church came to my office, sat on a couch and said, “We love this church, and we’re not mad, but this church is pushing women in ministry, and we’re just not comfortable.”

They were polite, and they didn’t make a fuss, but they moved their membership to a more conservative church.

Six weeks later—and I’m not making this up—a couple came to my office, sat on the same couch and said, “Travis, we love this church, and we’re not mad, but this church is too restrictive on the topic of homosexuality.”

They, too, were polite, and they made no fuss, but they went to a more liberal church.

Two families left within six weeks—one through the door to the right, the other through the door to the left.

It’s happened in the church I serve now. I’ve seen good and thoughtful people, some of them personal friends, walk out opposing doors over my expressed convictions.

Even big tents cannot hold everyone. Congregations do, from time to time, have to self-define. Churches that try to be everything to everybody tend not to be anything to anybody. And while I realize it’s sometimes best both for the church and for the individuals when people leave, it’s still not pleasant for the shepherd to see sheep wander away.

We centrists are not victims, and this is not a pity party. This brief article is simply an encouraging reminder that you are going to have to take some licks for standing humbly-but-firmly in the middle. And you are not alone.

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 6 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

At the 2023 Southern Baptist Convention, messengers voted to affirm the decision to disfellowship Saddleback Church and Fern Creek Baptist Church because they have women serving as pastors.

They also voted to approve the first reading of a constitutional amendment barring churches that affirm, appoint or employ women as pastors of any kind from fellowship with the SBC. An additional reading will need to be approved next summer for it to go into effect.

Baptist Women in Ministry, the national organization I lead as executive director, has responded in numerous ways, including publishing an open letter to Baptist women signed by more than 3,500 people, providing resources and support for women who were the focus of these efforts, and publicly speaking out against the harmful actions taken.

I also have heard the stories of many female ministers and pastors affected by the SBC’s actions. The public nature of the SBC’s reiteration of women’s inequality—including the public targeting of women serving as pastors of all kinds—has been painful.

Some women wonder if their congregations still support their calling. Some are carrying the weight of congregational conversations about denominational affiliations centered around their personal efforts to be faithful to God’s call. Some have experienced the pain of being kicked out of their faith family.

Others who have appeared on public lists against their will have experienced intense anxiety about potential harassment, while others have experienced harassment directly.

Moreover, the SBC’s actions and the public conversation around it have stirred feelings of inadequacy, brokenness and rejection for most women in ministry among Baptists as we were reminded loudly that many in our Baptist family do not believe we are fully free in Christ.

In moments like these, neutrality is not enough.

Women aren’t a secondary issue

Both the Baptist General Convention of Texas and the Baptist General Association of Virginia hold unique positions as state Baptist conventions that endorse local church autonomy with regard to women’s roles in leadership as ministers and pastors.

In The State of Women in Baptist Life Report 2021, released by Baptist Women in Ministry last summer, 3.6 percent of churches affiliated with the BGAV had women serving as senior pastors or co-pastors, and 0.6 percent of churches affiliated with Texas Baptists had women serving in these roles.

These numbers showed only a marginal increase from previous years and are lower than Baptist denominational groups that have taken a stance explicitly affirming women in ministry.

The Baptist Standard published an article when the report was released that includes this quote from me: “In the case of people who have been marginalized by the church, autonomy—while necessary and celebrated—is not enough to see progress in the form of more people created in the divine image being able to utilize fully their gifts and callings in service of the church. More concerted and visible efforts of education, advocacy and elevation within these denominational groups will be needed to move these statistics forward.”

In statements responding to the SBC’s actions, both the BGCT and BGAV maintained positions that celebrated local church autonomy on the matter of women in ministry. But if women ever will be regarded fully as equally created in God’s image and worthy of God’s calling, more must be done.

For those who claim the primacy of local church autonomy on the matter, women in ministry often has been called a “secondary issue” or a “divisive issue.” These labels exacerbate the pain experienced by women in ministry and further reinforce patriarchal values.

Telling women that following their calling is a secondary issue communicates the freedom of women is secondary, while the freedom of men to stay in leadership is primary. It also suggests the abundant life found through redemption in Christ is not available to half of the population.

Calling women in ministry a divisive issue conveys to women that for the sake of unity they need to be silent and forgo being faithful to God’s call. But that unity comes at the cost of women’s wholeness and the gospel’s message being spread farther—both of which are too high a cost.

Forcing women’s silence in the name of unity reveals a belief that women’s voices, perspectives and callings are not as important as maintaining the status quo of organizations.

Women are not seeking to be divisive. We are seeking to be faithful to God’s call.

An affirmative motion

Pointing to local church autonomy is the equivalent of taking a neutral position on women in ministry. When a neutral position is taken on any issue of oppression, the dominant position and practice simply continues. When we are silent, nothing changes.

For Christianity’s first 2,000 years, the church has communicated men have more value since they have been the only persons fully free to participate in God’s work in the world without restriction. Nothing will change if we are neutral.

I believe it is possible for a denominational body to respect the autonomy of the local church, while at the same time encouraging churches with resources and initiatives to seek the wholeness of life Jesus offers all persons.

For these reasons, I am working for a motion to be brought at the BGCT annual meeting in McAllen next week asking the messengers to adopt a formal position of affirmation for women in ministry and to turn that affirmation into action.

I have also been in conversation with women in ministry in Virginia about similar actions being taken at the BGAV annual meeting this coming November.

A motion like this would not advocate for affirmation of women in ministry to become a matter of fellowship or disfellowship within these denominational bodies. Instead, it would ask the messengers of these conventions to send a strong message that women are fully valued by both God and God’s people, and to take specific actions putting that belief into practice.

For Texas, BGCT messengers historically have expressed support of women in ministry. The messengers passed resolutions in both 1998 and 2021 articulating support for women in ministry. Further, in 2001, the messengers rejected adopting the 2000 Baptist Faith and Message after revisions were made that were oppressive to women.

Baylor University’s George W. Truett Theological Seminary has been outspoken about its affirmation of women in all ministerial and pastoral roles, and in The State of Women in Baptist Life Report 2021 referenced above, Truett self-reported 45 percent of its Masters-level students were women.

Additionally, the faculty of Baylor University’s Department of Religion affirm egalitarian leadership in the church and world, and report more than 50 percent of their majors are women.

Women potentially make up half, or more, of the students studying for ministry at Texas Baptists’ largest affiliated university and seminary.

If the BGCT is going to continue to provide funding for the theological education of these women at Truett and other Texas Baptist schools, a clear message is needed for after their education—Texas Baptists value the gifts women can bring to the church. This message can be sent by putting initiatives into place that advocate for congregations to affirm and employ women.

‘Clear is kind’

In her Dare to Lead program, Brené Brown writes about brave leadership. She asserts: “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”

In relationships, if we are not clear about our expectations and boundaries, it is unkind for people to have to pay the price for our lack of clarity. Therefore, when we are clear, even if it means having hard conversations, then we are demonstrating kindness to those around us.

Claiming women in ministry only to be a matter of local church autonomy is unclear. Women do not know if the churches and convention that provided money for their theological education will value their leadership to the point of calling them to lead. Whether a church will call them is unclear.

A motion of affirmation and action would call the BGCT to the kindness of clarity. I hope BGCT messengers will see the importance of sending a clear, kind, bold and affirming message to women in ministry and leadership in moments like these.

Meredith Stone is executive director of Baptist Women in Ministry. She has taught on the faculty of a Texas Baptists-affiliated university and seminary, served on the staff of Texas Baptists and ministered in Texas Baptists-affiliated congregations. The views expressed are those of the author.

This article is 5 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

For centrists, finding friends is tricky sometimes.

Friendships are easy when people click. But sometimes people clash. Since centrists don’t toe any party’s line, centrists are likely to clash with people to both the right and the left. Moreover, the people with whom we often clash are known more for their zeal than for their courtesy. With all that clashing, friendships can be hard.

Friendships for centrists are hard, also, because people can’t figure centrists out. Frankly, we sometimes disappoint people.

As an example, consider an ordained, female preaching pastor who holds a traditional view of sexuality, who is involved in serious work toward racial equality, and who believes our No. 1 responsibility as Christians is personal evangelism. She’s a centrist, and she is going to confuse a lot of people.

I remember well the time I lost a friend because she was so disappointed with me. She had heard me preach about the sin of racism and had made an assumption about my convictions on other topics. When she heard me express my traditional—I believe, biblical—convictions on sexuality a year later, she was stunned and eventually left the church I served.

It’s hard for centrists to find friends, because of the inevitable clashes and because we are so hard to pigeonhole. But we need friendships … even when those friendships don’t come easily.

Friends centrists need

It’s good to have friends with varying opinions so as to avoid echo chambers and filter bubbles.

More and more people seem interested only in consulting news sources and having friends who confirm the views they already hold. Seriously considering new ideas, after all, can be uncomfortable. One way to remain as objective as possible, however, is to cultivate friendships with people whose opinions don’t echo our own.

It’s also good to have friends we don’t naturally like, because those friendships build character.

I love the story told by Arthur Paul Boers in Never Call Them Jerks about Gurdjieff, the facilitator of an intentional spiritual community in Europe. One of the members of that community was a crotchety guy no one liked. Finally, the curmudgeon grew so tired of being marginalized he left the community altogether.

Everyone was relieved the pain-in-the-neck had gone. Everyone except Gurdjieff. Gurdjieff followed the malcontent to Paris and offered to pay the guy to come back, even though all the other students were paying to be there.

Well, when the cranky old man agreed to return to the community, the others were outraged, particularly when they found out he was being paid to return.

Gurdjieff explained to those who complained: “You came to me so that I could help you work on your maturity, the development of your character. You need this man among you so that you will learn patience and compassion” (p. 119).

Spiritual maturity comes from the discipline of choosing as friends some with whom friendship is difficult. And, let’s be honest, some people find it difficult to be friends with you and me.

Finding and keeping friends

How do we find and keep friends? Here are two suggestions.

Leave the drama to daytime TV.

Scripture says:

“A man’s wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense” (Proverbs 19:11, NIV).

“Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments” (2 Timothy 2:23, NIV).

“Avoid foolish controversies” (Titus 3:9, NIV).

It’s hard to imagine why, but I once sat through a documentary about walruses. It was surprisingly fascinating to watch male walruses fight for a center place on their small, floating chunks of ice.

That center place really is not better than any other spot on the little iceberg. But, apparently, it is a place of walrus prestige. So, they cut each other with those giant two teeth, and they body slam each other over the right to sit five feet closer to the middle.

Have you ever fought for the center place on a minor iceberg? I’m afraid I have.

Some things are not worth fighting over. Getting ourselves worked up over something that really is not significant does no one any good. When it is possible to overlook an offense, that’s usually best. And overlooking offenses is critical for centrists who want to expand their circle of friends.

Extend a hand.

Back when the Southern Baptist schism was but an early crack, one of my legendary predecessors at First Baptist Church in Huntsville, Ala., did an interesting thing. At the 1981 annual meeting of Southern Baptists, Ralph Langley nominated Abner McCall—then immediate past president of Baylor—for president of the SBC. McCall lost the election to Bailey Smith, a really conservative pastor from Oklahoma.

Then Ralph, God bless him, turned around and immediately invited Bailey Smith to preach a revival at First Baptist Huntsville, and Bailey accepted.

Ralph’s nomination of Abner McCall and his subsequent invitation to Bailey Smith helped shape the church I serve into the centrist congregation it is today.

The kingdom of God moves along the rails of relationships. Alliances and partnerships are critical if we are to make a difference in the world. And friendships feed our souls.

But, for centrists, finding friends is tricky sometimes.

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 5 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 4 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

How may Christ-followers best relate to ambient culture? This perennially pertinent question animates H. Richard Niebuhr’s now classic volume Christ and Culture, first published in 1951.

As it happens, my copy of the book, which I first read during a Christian ethics course in seminary in the late 1980s, now has yellowing pages—and I graying hair. I continue to find the work to be valuable and helpful in posing and puzzling over the pressing question of how believers might best exude and extend Christ to a watching, wounded yet wonderful world.

Five ways of relating to the world

In Christ and Culture, Niebuhr offers five “typical” ways Christians have sought to negotiate this ongoing nettle.

According to Niebuhr, the five prevailing paradigms Christ-followers have employed over the sweep of Christian history to interpret and to interact with the world surrounding them are:

1. Christ against culture,
2. Christ of culture—or Christ in culture,
3. Christ above culture,
4. Christ and culture in paradox, and
5. Christ the transformer of culture.

If the first response opposes culture and the second more than less baptizes it, the third attempts to synthesize the two. Meanwhile, the fourth approach recognizes an inherent tension between Christ and culture, while the fifth aches and advocates for the transformation of culture for the greater and common good.

Niebuhr regarded the third, fourth and fifth approaches to be related, if distinct, and described them as “median” or “mediating” responses. These three ways of engaging and interacting with culture simultaneously recognize the decided differences between Christ and culture even as they explore and examine possible links between the two.

For whatever combination of reasons—and I would like to think it involved more than simply my temperament or being the “middle child” in my family of origin—from my first exposure to Niebuhr’s volume until now, I have resonated with and gravitated toward the three mediating or centrist positions he outlines.

While believing “Christ is all and in all” (Colossians 3:11)—“Christ above culture”—it seems both unnecessary and foolhardy to deny the tension between “the already and the not yet”—“Christ and culture in paradox”—even as it seems altogether necessary and salutary for Christians to “seek the welfare of the city” (Jeremiah 29:7), “to do good to all people” (Galatians 6:10), and to be “the salt of the earth” and “light of the world” (Matthew 5:13-14) in the time between times—“Christ the transformer of culture.”

What good is Christian centrism?

Setting Niebuhrian categories and concerns to one side, an important and relevant question remains: If one’s habit of heart, frame of mind and way of being in the world is that of a Christian centrist, what difference, if any, might it make for society writ large? What good, if any, is Christian centrism?

If one is disinclined to declare either, “The world is going to hell in a handbasket,” on the one hand or to intone, “It just doesn’t get any better than this,” on the other hand, why is such a “middle way” both a profitable and advisable path? Why might this be a way of wisdom and reason?

At best, those who self-identity and self-describe as “Christian centrists” seek to perceive and to preserve a balance between comparatively extreme views. In a day as polarized and bifurcated as our own, this is arguably no small gift. The center may well not hold—so William Butler Yeats—but it will certainly not hold if no one is seeking to hold it.

Suffer me a football analogy. Centrists tend to think life lived “between the lines” where the laces may be found is preferable—and ultimately more beneficial and impactful—than life lived at either extreme.

I once heard it suggested, “A balanced life is a radical life.” This still rings true to me.

If Christian centrists can bring a semblance of balance to cultural conversations and culture wars, they also—when given opportunity and occasion—can build bridges, as opposed to blowing them up.

Not a few people at present have lamented the incivility and hostility that mark and mar current (un)civil discourse and concourse. How can this lamentable state of affairs be reversed, centrists wonder?

By developing friendships across various divides and by facilitating conversations among people of good will who sincerely hold to differing and diverse views, centrists answer.

Christian centrism’s posture

At its best, Christian centrism does not succumb to either a numbing pessimism or to a triumphal optimism. Rather, it embraces a hopeful realism that “rolls up its sleeves and gets to work” toward a good, if fraught, future.

Furthermore, Christian centrists value humility, magnanimity, listening carefully and plain, old-fashioned kindness.

Some of us grew up hearing the following admonition from Ephesians 4:32, in the King James Version, of course: “Be ye kind one to another.” There are worse ways to live and move and have one’s being in the world, and we are experimenting presently with no small number of them.

As it happens, I was in the throes of finalizing this essay when I learned of the death of Russell Dilday, Baptist statesman and servant par excellence.

I do not know if Dr. Dilday would have seen himself as a Christian centrist, and I never asked him as much. This much I do know: He modeled a Christian civility and decency desperately needed, if not always wanted, today. I, for one, want to tend to and extend such a legacy. I both welcome and want your company.

Todd Still is dean and professor of Christian Scriptures at Baylor University’s Truett Theological Seminary. This article is 4 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 3 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

I love the church. I love the “big C” church, and I love the local church down on the corner. I’ve spent my adult life serving local churches. I am humbled by the calling of God on my life that has allowed me such a privilege.

The church is where theology and real life merge in real time. It is a beautiful thing to behold. This is exactly how God designed it to be. It has been that way since Pentecost. Think about it.

Diversity of the early church

What does Luke tell us about the people assembled in Jerusalem when the Spirit of God was given to his people? Luke writes, “Now there were staying in Jerusalem God-fearing Jews from every nation under heaven” (Acts 2:5).

There were Greek-speaking Jews from the Diaspora as well as Aramaic-speaking Jews from Palestine in Jerusalem for Pentecost. This theologically and culturally diverse setting was the context for the birth of the church. We know from reading Acts 6 the membership of the first church reflected this diversity.

In time, the church spread across the ancient Greco-Roman world of the first century. The Book of Acts records how the gospel was embraced by Jews and Gentiles as Christians began to share their new-found faith.

In studying the writings of Paul and Peter in the New Testament, we further discover the churches established in this era demonstrated the uncanny ability to offer community to people from all walks of life.

In contrast to the segmented norms of first-century life, churches in strategic communities—such as Corinth, Philippi, Thessalonica, Colossae, Ephesus, Antioch and Rome—were places where cultural norms were set aside as believers gathered together in missional communities of faith.

Amazingly, churches were places where men, women, Aramaic-speaking Jews, Greek-speaking Jews, Gentiles, slaves, masters, the poor and the wealthy came together for worship, fellowship and service for the sake of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

These “colonies of heaven” became compelling examples of both a unity and a community thought to be impossible to the people of the first century. The power of the gospel to bring disparate people together offered a stark contrast to the divisions of everyday life and proved to be a powerful force of transformation.

Church at Antioch as example

As a pastor, Bible student and church historian, I have given much time to research and reflection on how God used the church in the first century. In particular, the church at Antioch has become both an inspiration and a model for me as I have sought to lead the churches I have served.

Acts 11 records how this church was marked by diversity from its inception as both Jews and Greeks were reached with the gospel. Further, the church was a center of radical spiritual transformation that led others to refer to its members as “Christians” for the first time.

The grace of this church was on display as it readily accepted both Barnabas from Jerusalem and Saul from Tarsus into its leadership circle. The generosity of this church was demonstrated by its willingness immediately to assist the Mother Church in Jerusalem when a great famine created a great need.

It also became the first “sending” church of the New Testament era when it released Saul (Paul) and Barnabas for a missionary endeavor that would change the course of Christian history. Wow, what a church!

Diversity, discipleship, dexterity, devotion, grace, generosity, courage, imagination—all were on display in Antioch. The church moved beyond the limitations of the extreme Jewish/Christian perspective that the gospel was limited to the Jews. Yet, the church honored the Jewish heritage of the founders of Christianity.

From my perspective, the church at Antioch found a centrist path that could be emulated in any century by any church.

Centrism is like a river

From a practical perspective, I have found the image of a spring-fed, stream-fed river to be helpful to me as I lead a centrist church. Imagine a river comprised of several streams and springs. No one stream could muster the force of the entire river on its own.

As these sources merge, the deepest part of the channel is in the middle of the river. In that deep central channel, the various sources contribute value, strength, power and life.

With Antioch as my theological/ecclesiological/missional inspiration, and images like a river as my practical inspiration, I have sought to lead our local church to find the path that brings diverse perspectives towards the center so we might be deeper and more effective together as a church.

No one stream or perspective always carries the day. We are sharpened, honed, challenged and blessed as we offer our views and contribute to the mix at the deepest level of our church. As the river continues to flow, it feeds the streams as well. We all benefit from the life of an effective church.

Centrism is like the early church

Today, the temptation is to migrate toward the extremes of the theological spectrum. Consequently, there are examples of churches that have become incredibly homogeneous theologically, ethnically and even politically. While I understand the temptation, I don’t feel called to lead a church toward either extreme.

Today, we have an opportunity similar to our first-century forbears to offer something unique to our polarized culture.

We can distinguish ourselves by developing colonies of heaven where the cultural divisions that have become normalized in our day can be overcome by the sweeping power of the Spirit of God. We can forge missional fellowships that bring divergent perspectives together in the deep channel of shared community.

As my friend Travis Collins has pointed out, centrist leaders hold deep convictions. Our theology is anything but “watered down.” I am committed to the centrist position. From Antioch to Arlington, I am convinced life flourishes in the deep water.

Dennis Wiles is the senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Arlington, Texas. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 3 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 2 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

Conviction.

Not merely a preference.

Not merely an opinion.

Not merely an assumption or a presupposition.

“Conviction” is rooted in the Latin word for “convince.” Thus, a conviction is not something we’ve been told is true, have always assumed to be true, or something we judged to be true without considering evidence.

People who hold a conviction should be able to give a reasonable explanation as to what convinced them.

Convictions are those deeply held, firm, grounded, defensible beliefs that define us. They reflect our values, shape our worldview and determine the trajectory of our lives.

We don’t have to have convictions about every topic, by the way. There is no shame in holding a mere opinion about something or in merely stating a preference. It is not dishonorable to say, “I don’t know,” or to say, “I have not reached a conclusion on the matter.” It’s downright admirable to confess assumptions and presuppositions.

The important matters, however, demand our convictions.

Convictions matter about important matters

If you care enough about the church to read this article, then you are a person of influence. Therefore, you should be convinced about matters that matter. You and I cannot play the “Gee, I don’t know” card on the critical questions facing the church today. As examples:

• What about women in ministry? Baptist centrists I know would affirm women in all roles of ministry.

• What about sexuality? Baptist centrists I know would welcome everyone to their church, but would affirm physically intimate relationships only within the covenant of heterosexual marriages.

• Is Jesus truly the way, truth and life? Baptist centrists I know answer, “Yes.”

• Is the Bible really the trustworthy authority for what we believe and practice? Baptist centrists I know answer, “Yes.”

• What about racial strife and inequality? Baptist centrists I know believe we have work to do to secure dignity and equal opportunities for everyone, no matter the hue of their skin or the accent of their tongues.

Topics such as those demand our convictions.

We cannot stand casually on important matters. Let’s stand firmly.

But we do not have to stand arrogantly on important matters. Let’s stand humbly.

And we ought not stand angrily defiant on important matters. Let’s stand nonanxiously.

But on defining topics we must declare, as Martin Luther is said to have declared: “Here I stand; I can do no other.”

We’re talking about ‘centrists,’ not ‘moderates.’

Like Dennis Wiles, I understand the intent behind the use of the term “moderate,” and I’m not offended by it. In Baptist conversations, the intent of the use of “moderate” is to mark a contrast with “extremists” or “radicals” to either side. And yet, one synonym of “moderate” is “tepid.” The centrists I know are anything but tepid.

Peggy Noonan, in a Wall Street Journal opinion piece April 27, 2023, was talking about political centrists and the possibility of a third-party candidate in the 2024 elections. Centrists, she said, aren’t dramatic. I think she intended it as a compliment. And I would agree, centrists tend not to be melodramatic. But I don’t see centrists lacking passion.

Along with Wiles, I also once heard a fellow Baptist disparage those he called “moderate Baptists” by pronouncing, “Where I’m from the only thing in the middle of the road is a yellow line and dead skunks!”

That attempt at wit tells me he never has tried to stand in the middle of a denominational tug-of-war. But it also demonstrates why “centrists” is a much more accurate description of the people I’m writing about here.

In fact, I would contend it requires more fortitude to be a centrist than to live in the extremes. Those on the extremes tend to hum the same melody. Centrists, however, live with the kind of harmony that occasionally becomes cacophony. Holding the center in a centrist church is not for the faint of heart. It requires the courage of conviction.

How does one form a conviction?

If God’s promise in James 1:5 ever has been important, it is here: “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you” (NIV). So, begin by asking God for wisdom.

Admit your biases. We all have them. Be honest with yourself about your presuppositions and about the influence of your friends’ biases. That’s an important baseline.

Then, gather information from a wide array of sources. Read broadly. Sit with people who have disparate perspectives. Get outside your normal circle. Whatever you do, don’t set up camp in an echo chamber.

Sit with what you’ve learned. Prayerfully. Vulnerably. Honestly.

Write down what you believe you believe. This will give clarity to your emerging convictions.

Weigh the consequences of your emerging convictions. Are you willing to pay a price for them? Will there be implications for those who surround you? If you are a church leader, will there be implications for your congregation? These questions will help you determine if your belief has risen to the level of a true conviction.

When you sense a profound confidence, state your conviction to yourself and to others if needed. There, like Luther, you stand. You will need the clarity that articulating your conviction brings.

Your convictions are not immutable. So, don’t feel trapped by your new declaration. Radically new information or a deep spiritual experience might shake your convictions. In the meantime, however, your convictions are reassuringly solid.

It is an honor to count myself among Baptists I call “centrist.” It sometimes means strained relationships to the right and to the left. We’ll talk about that later in this series. But this is my calling. Centrists are my people.

Here we stand.

Travis Collins is senior pastor of First Baptist Church of Huntsville, Ala. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 2 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

This article is 1 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

From 1981 to 1992, I was a graduate student at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. After earning a Master of Divinity degree, I immediately enrolled in the Ph.D. program with an aim to major in church history focusing on the Reformation era. However, I found myself enamored with the history of American Christianity in general and Baptist history in particular.

Any astute Southern Baptist will recognize those years at Southwestern coincide with a major controversy in our denomination. Unavoidably, this controversy marked me in some ways.

In fact, I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the topic—Factors Contributing to the Resurgence of Fundamentalism in the Southern Baptist Convention: 1979-1990. This scholarly project allowed me the opportunity to study the tensions experienced in this conflict by those on the right and on the left. I conducted interviews with movement leaders Paige Patterson and Paul Pressler, and with Baptist statesman Herschel Hobbs as a part of my research.

Pastoral experience

In addition to this academic exercise, I began serving as a pastor of a local Baptist church in 1983. For the past 40 years, this has been my profession. I have served churches in rural communities, suburban contexts, mid-sized cities and, for the past 22 years, in the heart of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex.

I am quite familiar with the theological spectrum and its expression through local churches, associations and denominations. I have attended all manner of denominational gatherings, local pastoral affinity groups, multi-faith associations, civic organizations and community action meetings.

I have worked with fundamentalists, conservatives, moderates, liberals, progressives, nones, atheists and agnostics on various projects across the years, during which I have observed the actions of both extreme theological liberals on the left and ardent fundamentalists on the right.

I’ve attended meetings where I was either the most conservative or the most liberal person in the room. Further, in my generation, we have had the splintering of various denominational bodies along theological lines. Consequently, there has been a weakening of relationships and a diminishing of helpful theological dialogue resulting in a further bolstering of extremism.

I cannot adequately express my disappointment and discomfort with these developments. It has been to our detriment on many fronts.

Between the extremes

Through the years, I have given myself to much theological reflection, prayer and dialogue with other dissatisfied fellow pilgrims. I have expressed my desire for us to find a “third space” or a “third way” that would offer more authentic community and missional partnership. While I have found some of that in my current state convention, it is in my local churches where it has been most gratifying.

Today, I am blessed to pastor a “purple” church. Our church has found a way to engage in deep relationships, forge meaningful ministry partnerships, celebrate the diversity of viewpoints, acknowledge the reality of profound differences in theological perspectives, and yet maintain a sweet fellowship.

What word might I use to describe what I have experienced in my own churches? I’ve never been a fan of the label “moderate.” It is inadequate. I prefer the word “centrist.” What is “centrist?”

Defining ‘centrist’

Theological centrism is, for me, a holy middle. It is a space deep and rich with conviction. It is a position that is biblically based, Christ-centered, missionally focused, relationally healthy and historically orthodox.

Theological centrism offers the space to hold tension, live with some level of ambiguity, engage relationally across a spectrum, partner in mission with like-minded brothers and sisters, and speak with grace and clarity.

Some might argue the centrist position is theologically weak and lifeless. It is too “watered down” to accomplish anything. It can’t “move the needle” in today’s loud and boisterous cultural context.

During the height of our denominational controversy, one prominent conservative pastor supposedly quipped, “The only thing in the middle of the road is a dead skunk.”

I beg to disagree. The middle of the road—the centrist position—is a good and honorable position to hold. The centrist position offers adherents the opportunity to avoid the extremist views so often held by the right and the left.

I contend the center of the road—a little left-of-center or right-of-center—offers us a better path than the edges of the road or the ditches.

Through the years, I have met many who migrate toward the left or right edges of the road. I’ve met my share of those off in the ditch as well. My experience has been “ditch people”—right or left—are incredibly similar in demeanor and action despite their theological differences.

‘A wonderful alternative’

We currently live in a quick-to-judge, soundbite, mic-drop society. Everyone wants a quick fix, a simple answer to complex issues that is understandable and tweetable. Folks love to argue their case.

Many love their echo chambers. Some refuse to listen to news that does not fit their conclusions or strengthen their narrative. This is all to our detriment. The centrist position offers us a wonderful alternative in today’s climate.

A theological centrist must hold to sincere and deep theological convictions. Though we are historically orthodox in our views, we make room for nuance, disagreement, diversity, complexity and what oftentimes is messy.

Our methods of applying those convictions may not be as loud or tweet-worthy as our brothers and sisters on the extremes, but they are just as deeply held.

I’m grateful to be a part now of a developing missional movement comprised of theological centrists from across North America who range from right-of-center to left-of-center in our views.

We have found great joy in fellowship and are experiencing great synergy as we are creating shared missional investments that are Christ-centered, historically orthodox and missionally significant. To say I have found my tribe is an understatement. I am thrilled beyond measure.

Dennis Wiles is the senior pastor of First Baptist Church in Arlington, Texas. The views expressed are those of the author. This article is 1 of 9 in the Leading from the Center series by three writers.

(RNS)—Christian nationalism—the idea that being Christian is core to the American identity—is nothing new, either in American religious culture or its politics. But it used to be a radical proposal, and holding Christian nationalist views disqualified politicians and even clergy from higher leadership.

Recently, however, it has been embraced as a badge of honor. A sitting member of Congress has sold “Proud Christian Nationalist” T-shirts on her website. Books defending Christian nationalism are given serious discussion. And according to a recent survey from PRRI, nearly one-third of Americans now hold Christian nationalist attitudes.

These developments rightfully raise concern. But there is another, relatively untold, side of this story: The most recent rise of Christian nationalism has ignited a wave of resistance.

Rising resistance

According to PRRI, Americans who have heard of Christian nationalism are twice as likely to hold a negative than a positive view of the term. These Americans also reject the specific ideas associated with the ideology.

The 3 in 10 Americans PRRI found who align with Christian nationalism to some degree are opposed by nearly the same percentage (29 percent) who completely reject the ideas associated with Christian nationalism. Another 39 percent is skeptical.

Most importantly, these Americans are joining a growing movement I call the pluralist resistance. They are taking action through a diverse set of organizations that each tackles a different dimension of Christian nationalism’s influence.

One pivotal front of this battle is in the nation’s churches. Conservative Christians, lured by new online platforms and hyper-partisanship, have been sucked into a vortex of right-wing disinformation, conspiracy theories and fear.

These Christians are told repeatedly by right-wing influencers and politicians that Christians need to “take their country back.” Mistrustful of outsiders, these believers can only be convinced of the threat Christian nationalism holds for our democracy and to Christianity itself if other Christians are doing the talking.

Christian resistance to Christian nationalism

Christians Against Christian Nationalism and Vote Common Good are the most visible of the groups attempting just that.

Amanda Tyler of the Baptist Joint Committee, which leads the Christians Against Christian Nationalism coalition, has been speaking around the country to raise alarms about the dangers of Christian nationalism. Last December, she testified before a U.S. House subcommittee about the role Christian nationalism played in the Jan. 6 Capitol insurrection.

Vote Common Good recently completed a “March on Christian Nationalism” campaign, which builds on the group’s year-round work to educate Christians about how to identify and confront Christian Nationalism through podcasts, webinars and a state-of-the art training program, titled “Confronting Christian Nationalism Curriculum,” for faith community leaders and individuals.

Meanwhile, the Poor People’s Campaign, a social movement led by Rev. William Barber II and Rev. Liz Theoharis, attacks Christian nationalism in the arena of policy and politics. The group has identified Christian nationalism as “a key pillar of injustice in America that provides cover for a host of other ills” and is leading a multiracial and multi-faith “moral movement” to confront it in the minutia of public policy, but also in demonstrations outside statehouses and the nation’s Capitol buildings.

In their policy fights, the Poor People’s Campaign challenges a Christian nationalist mythology of scarcity set against a mythologized past of plenty, but only for those who “belong.” Activists like Barber and Theoharis draw up a narrative in which patriotic citizens work together toward a more perfect, inclusive and abundant future that lives up to the country’s founding ideals.

Non-Christian resistance

Corporations, motivated by profit not politics, also recognize their influence over how we understand what it means to be an American. Over the objections of right-wing critics, companies such as Coca-Cola use their advertising to promote an image of a racially and religiously diverse and thriving America that is “beautiful.”

Americans United for Separation of Church and State is among the legal nonprofits challenging demands for religious privilege under the guise of religious freedom, as Christian nationalist extremists seek to impose laws on abortion, public school curricula and other issues to force conformity with their religio-political worldview.

Finally, philanthropies, including one funding collective calling themselves “New Pluralists,” are taking the lead in helping local communities by funding projects that attempt to repair the frayed bonds of democracy.

Pluralism is not new. Since the early 1990s, Harvard’s Pluralism Project has tracked the country’s growing religious diversity and corresponding efforts to promote a pluralistic culture and politics.

But my research suggests projects to promote pluralism tend to emerge in waves, in response to different opportunities and threats, like rising religious diversity; the rise of Islamophobia after Sept. 11; and now ascendant Christian nationalism. Each wave builds on previous efforts, while also bringing new players into the fold.

What’s different about today’s wave of pluralist resistance is it has attracted greater numbers of white Christians to a field previously led by non-white Christians and people of other faiths. This is important, given the privileged position white Christians long have enjoyed in American politics and society.

Diverse response to Christian nationalism

Christian privilege is so baked into our society that it often is hard to recognize it, and it offers cover for some Christian nationalist arguments. But Christian privilege is rooted in demographic power, not divine right.

As demographic shifts change the face of power in America, we are able to imagine better what a truly pluralist culture might look like. The participation of a more racially and religiously diverse cohort of leaders in the current fight is helping all Americans to be more conscious of this historical barrier to pluralism.

Deep cultural and political change is never easy. But with a diverse majority of Americans on their side, these leaders are making inroads.

As Christian nationalists take advantage of a moment of political precarity to call for a turn toward authoritarian theocracy, the press should be paying attention to those rising up to preserve democracy in America. The leaders of the resistance are on the front lines of this war. They should be making headlines, too.

Ruth Braunstein is an associate professor of sociology at the University of Connecticut and the director of the Meanings of Democracy Lab. The views expressed are those of the author.