Recently, I hosted Dr. Ryan Burge — political scientist and master of “graphs about religion” — for our annual Fred Craddock Preaching Lectures at Peachtree Christian Church. Prior to his lectures on mainline decline, American religiosity, and polarization in the pews, I had Ryan on my podcast, Complex Creatures, to discuss his new book, The Vanishing Church. Before we recorded, he asked me a question I couldn’t shake: “Why is your Disciples of Christ denomination declining the fastest?”
We didn’t have time to dig into it that day, but after his lectures, I kept thinking about it. Here are my top reasons why the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) — as distinct from the non-denominational wing of our broader Stone-Campbell tradition — is declining in membership, attendance, and church closures faster than any of the other Seven Sisters of mainline Protestantism.
1. We’re built on a dying model of association.
The DOC is declining for the same reason most churches are: it’s built on the decaying voluntary-association model of American society. The modern church’s structure, form, and manner isn’t strictly a first-century inheritance — it was forged in early America, in the same kiln as the Elks, the Moose, Rotary, country clubs, benevolence societies, the Lions, the Jaycees. And as Charles Taylor, Ted Smith, and Robert Putnam have all shown, that mode of organizing society has been in sharp decline since the 1960s.
Religiosity and spirituality don’t seem to be waning in America — but adherence to church as institution is. Every denomination faces this same reality: the structures we built are structures we’re socially leaving behind. What’s replacing institutional voluntary associations? Communities organized around common values, interests, and purpose — what I’ll call a “movement culture.” And these movements are not defined by locality, due to our digital mobility. In short: if it feels institutional, it’s probably struggling (think boards, committees, by laws, roberts rules of order). If it feels like a movement (think virality, missional, passionate), it has a real shot at thriving. Non-denominational and community churches — even when they’re functionally just as institutional as a denomination — feel grassroots, like a movement. That’s no small part of their appeal.
2. We chose the wrong way to become an institution.
The broader Stone-Campbell Movement — note that “movement” is in the name, and it’s a word worth reclaiming — was, at its origin, non-denominational. In becoming a denomination, the DOC sought the fruits of ecumenical work and dialogue. But it kept its non-denominational roots by remaining an institution of loose association. The result: we’re part of an institution that struggles to hold itself together. There’s no unifying person, office, or place. Joe Jones, arguably our greatest theologian of the last century, once observed that our denomination is really led by strong-willed pastors with strong congregations. And our direction ebbs and flows with those strong personalities and their large platforms. Add to that our general and regional ministries with their antiquated names have no clean lines demarcating who does what, and the whole structure becomes genuinely hard to navigate.
3. Our whole tradition has a weak ecclesiology.
We built our identity on unity and on looking as much like the New Testament church as possible — ironic, given how deeply we fell for voluntary-association institutionalism. Those commitments made us distinct, but they also made us porous. We tend to blend in with our neighbors. Our tradition produces people who look like adjacent fundamentalists, evangelicals, and even other mainliners — but far fewer people who are solely committed to being Disciples. I know Methodists and Presbyterians for whom that membership is a deep part of personal identity. I know far fewer Disciples like that.
4. We’re too apologetic about Jesus.
Ryan Burge critiqued the mainline for being too apologetic in its approach to Jesus — not apologetics as intellectual defense, but a kind of squeamishness about saying plainly what we believe: that Jesus is the source of life and redemption. I’ve seen this firsthand. We’re quick to broadcast our commitment to being “non-dogmatic,” or our commitment to social justice — slower to affirm the historic, orthodox claims about Jesus.
I’ve sat in ordination interviews for pastors transferring in from other traditions. Asked why they wanted to become Disciples, many said some version of, “Because you’re open to anyone.” Which is really just another way of saying, “You don’t have many standards of belief.” We may not be dogmatically creedal — but we are still disciples of Christ. I’ll note that that the DOC churches that are growing make no apologies about helping people experience the salvation or healing of Jesus. They want people to “know” Jesus, and they are unafraid to help people who are grieving, going through divorce, battling addictions, feeling alone and so on to reframe their life by the gift of Christ and the ongoing companionship of the Holy Spirit.
I’d also add: we don’t do much theology. We have theologians, plenty of good ones — but their work rarely reaches the church. Most of our intellectual energy runs toward social justice, disconnected from theology (reflecting on God, creation, Incarnation, Sin, Redemption, Eschatology, etc.). It’s immanence without transcendence. We’re told what to go and do, with little connection to why.
5. We’ve forgotten our evangelical roots.
Burge notes that evangelicals are the only group that has grown in recent decades. Strip away the political baggage the word now carries, and remember what it originally meant: people serious about spreading the good news of Jesus, doing justice in the name of his kingdom, assimilating newcomers into community, and pursuing mission with real energy. It’s a shame we’ve largely left that behind. Our tradition is part of the Evangelical legacy far before it was co-opted by politics, we should retrieve its earlier spirit for our own age. I’ll also note that in the DOC churches that seem to be growing there is a common theme: the pastors MAY be theologically/politically (different things) progressive, and their churches MAY be too, but their speech and language sound just like the Evangelical’s. They use simple, relational, and redemptive language about coming to know God through Jesus Christ, etc.
6. We haven’t figured out how to grow structurally, or in terms of systems.
Evangelicals have learned how to run ministry and govern churches without getting weighed down by institutional bulk. Too many of our churches are structurally built to stay small — by governance, bylaws, and operating policy. You cannot grow in a community where there is no room for actual leadership and vision. Growth doesn’t just happen; you have to plan for it, organize for it, and build the structure for the next size up before you actually reach it. Too many of our churches operate like little clubs of association—all are doomed to decay.
7. Our liturgy has become a hodgepodge.
I’ve been in settings where the weight of the sacraments gets flattened — treated lightly to avoid any hint of dogmatism, until reverence, mystery, beauty, and significance all drain out. I’ve also been in settings where we overcorrect, bending over backward to make communion feel more “special.” The result often lands somewhere one preacher in our tradition memorably called “arts and crafts worship.” You don’t need much to make the Eucharist meaningful — gather, say the words, lift the bread and cup, and share. My take: we absorbed too much of the American liberal project and not enough of the sacramental project of Disciples thinkers like William Robinson and W. Barnett Blakemore.
8. We’ve settled for good enough.
It’s good that we’re tolerant, loving, and accepting. But is it too much to also strive for excellence — not just in worship, but in preaching; not just in preaching, but in our media, our flyers, our websites? Too often we look stuck a decade behind, and in programming we try to do too much instead of doing less, better. In a high-attention economy, let’s make the most of our time, offer our best, and make it count.
9. We don’t know who we are.
We don’t know our own identity — what makes our charism distinct in the wider church. I hear often that the DOC is “a big tent church.” I’m sorry, but if that’s your defining trait, you don’t have one. You can’t be defined primarily by not being defined. If what you mean is that we have an open table, then say that — but even that isn’t unique anymore. Open tables aren’t rare.
Here’s what actually is unique about us: we’ve always been a movement seeking to restore the basics. We sought to be neither Catholic nor Protestant. And as a non-Catholic community — arriving at our convictions through basic Bible study (we might have benefited in the first generation if we had theologians with knowledge of broader theological term) — we landed, almost by accident, on a deeply sacramental view of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. That’s the strangest and most interesting thing about us. Had we known how to talk about it, we could have been a genuine American via media — a middle path between Catholic and Protestant.
At bottom, we are a eucharistic movement. Call us a table movement if you like; I prefer eucharistic movement — a people who gather around altars in the world and practice the social teaching of the communion meal. There, we look one another in the eye and say: our fates are bound together. Your success is mine, and my failure is yours. This is what Jesus does to us — draws us into deep solidarity and community with one another.
That’s who I think we are at our best. But instead, we keep grasping for an identity built on openness alone — wanting to stand up for others while making sure we never hold a conviction that might exclude anyone. That’s not an identity. That’s an absence of one.
Conclusion
Those are my top nine reasons the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) is the fastest-declining denomination in the mainline. What should we do about it…? In my opinion, the following might help:
Reignite our passion for the communion movement.
Recover some of the spirit and energy of our evangelical roots.
Build our churches for growth, not just maintenance.
Lean away from institutionality and toward a movement identity.
Remember — and proclaim without embarrassment — that we are disciples of Christ, unashamed of holding orthodox, essential convictions.
Strive for excellence in everything we do.
But those are just a few thoughts.
Maybe PCC should become Catholic. We're close anyway. I would like that.
Robert Plummer