You can’t talk about modern Christianity without tripping over its labels. Baptist, Pentecostal, Methodist, Presbyterian, Anglican, Assemblies of God, Church of Christ, Church of God, Church of God in Christ, Nondenominational (but not really)—each with its own history, structure and version of Sunday morning. And depending on where you grew up, your denomination might have shaped everything from how you pray to whether you were allowed to dance at prom.
But as church attendance declines and affiliation becomes fuzzier, more and more Christians—especially twentysomethings—are asking a long-overdue question: Why are there so many denominations? And does any of it actually matter anymore?
We like to think denominations are about theology. But most of them? They’re about preference. Whether we sing hymns or Hillsong. Whether communion comes in a golden chalice or a prepackaged plastic cup. Whether we stand, kneel or sway. Whether the sermon is shouted, read or improvised. Whether we call it a “sermon” at all.
The deeper problem is this: We’ve turned the Church into something that looks a lot more like a brand war than the body of Christ.
It didn’t start this way. The early Church was messy, diverse and deeply united around Jesus. In Acts, we see the Holy Spirit moving across cultural, social and political boundaries to bring wildly different people into one movement. Jewish believers. Samaritan half-outsiders. Total Gentiles. The message was radical and clear: Jesus was building one Church. Not one style of church. Not one theological system. One body—with many parts.
So how did we end up with 47,000?
Some of the splits were necessary. There were moments in history when people had to stand up for truth, challenge corruption or push against bad theology. But a lot of the dividing came later. That came when power, ego, politics or even aesthetics got wrapped up in the mission. As historian David Bebbington put it, church fragmentation has often been “less about doctrine and more about ego, ethnicity and ecclesiastical turf wars.”
And it’s not like this is all ancient history. In the U.S., denominational loyalty is breaking down fast—especially among Gen Z and younger millennials. According to Pew Research, only 28% of adults under 30 say they identify with a specific Protestant denomination. Nearly half now attend nondenominational churches, which are technically a denomination—just one that refuses to wear a name tag.
This rejection of labels isn’t random. A lot of younger Christians are tired of the internal wars. They’ve seen people get kicked out over secondary doctrines. They’ve watched churches split because someone moved the piano. They’ve sat through sermons that spent more time defending tradition than pointing to Jesus.
And here’s the uncomfortable truth: Our obsession with categories may be hurting the Church more than helping it.
We act like denominational lines are about theological conviction, but often they’re just about comfort. We gravitate toward people who worship the way we like, think the way we do and vote the way we’re expected to. That’s not unity. That’s tribalism.
But Jesus didn’t build a tribe. He built a Church. He intentionally called people who disagreed—deeply and dramatically. A tax collector and a political zealot on the same ministry team? That’s not a church planting strategy. That’s a recipe for disaster. But He did it anyway. Because the Church was meant to be diverse. Not in spite of the Gospel, but because of it.
The more we divide over minor issues, the more we lose sight of what actually matters. Theologian N.T. Wright put it bluntly: “When we let our theological emphases turn into identities that exclude others, we’re no longer expressing unity in Christ—we’re undermining it.”
And that’s the real problem. Denominations become toxic when they turn inward. When they become more focused on preserving structure than pursuing mission. When they stop asking “How do we reflect Jesus?” and start asking “How do we protect our brand?”
We like to say we’re one body, many parts, but it often feels like we’re 47,000 different bodies competing for market share. Jesus didn’t say, “They’ll know you’re my disciples by your theological precision.” He said, “They’ll know you by your love.”
That doesn’t mean theology doesn’t matter. It absolutely does. But when love, humility and unity are sacrificed on the altar of theological correctness, we’ve missed the point entirely.
The Church doesn’t need to erase its diversity. But it does need to remember its identity.
We serve the same God. We follow the same Christ. We were given the same Commission: Go. Make disciples. Love God. Love people.
There won’t be denominations in heaven. So maybe we should stop acting like they’re the main thing down here. Because while the Church may come in 47,000 flavors, there’s still only one name that saves.
And it’s not “Presbyterian.”
