Christoform Unity

“…that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you…”
- John 17:21

Unity is easy to talk about. It’s far harder to live. In a world fractured by ideology, identity, and influence, unity often feels like a naïve dream. But in the Advent story, unity is not idealism, it is Christological.

Jesus prayed that His followers would be one as He and the Father are one. That is not a call for institutional sameness or theological uniformity. It is a summons into the relational life of the Triune God. It is Christoform unity, a unity shaped by the character of Christ, sustained by His Spirit, and practiced in His body.

In AD 110, Ignatius beautifully explained this to the church in Tralles, where he emphasized communal wholeness, not organizational alignment. Early Christians understood that division wasn’t just inconvenient, it was a denial of the gospel. The gospel did not just reconcile people to God. It reconciled them to one another.

The leaders who followed the apostles, people like Ignatius, Polycarp, Onesimus, Damas, were not empire builders. They were shepherds who sought to preserve the fabric of love woven by the Spirit. Unity, for them, was not a strategic necessity. It was a theological imperative.

But let’s be honest. We live in a time when fragmentation feels normal, even expected. The church is often divided by branding, politics, race, as well as secondary convictions and tertiary opinions. Our culture rewards outrage more than it honors humility. Yet Christ’s call remains: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35).

Unity is not passive tolerance. It is active, self-giving love.

It is bearing with one another in love (Eph 4:2). It is outdoing one another in showing honor (Rom 12:10). It is practicing the Christoform love of Christ in the daily decisions that bind a community together.

Advent is the season of incarnation. And the incarnation reminds us that God did not stay distant from us. He entered our world, took on flesh, and dwelled among us. This is the shape of unity. Not disengagement, but presence. Not suspicion, but solidarity.

If we are to be formed in Christ’s image, then we must commit to Christ’s kind of unity. Not a unity of slogans or superficial niceties, but one forged through confession, forgiveness, and love.

Christoform unity is a witness. It tells the truth about who Jesus is and what He came to do.

This Advent, may we not only anticipate the Prince of Peace. May we embody His peace in how we love, serve, and remain with one another.

Learn More about the Christoformity of the Ancient Church

Written in the aftermath of apostolic ministry, these letters reveal a movement grounded not in hierarchy or innovation but in faithfulness – a church that led communally, lived theologically, and endured missionally.

Available now in all formats including Hardback, iPad, Kindle, and other eBook readers.

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GUEST-POST - Joe Boyd

NOTE: I do not always agree with the author's conclusions

but I am often in agreement with his perceptive analysis of the current state of Evangelicalism.

Evangelicalism is Only a Small Part of Christianity

Most of us who were raised evangelical were told we were raised Christian. As if we were the only ones. That's far from accurate.

Joe Boyd

Most of us who were raised evangelical were told we were raised “Christian.”

And sure, evangelicalism is a form of Christianity. But it’s also not, like many of us were taught, the only way to be a Christian.

Far from it.

I want to be clear up front: I don’t care where you end up. I’m not trying to recruit you into a “new kind of Christian” club. I’ve just been around long enough to know that a lot of people leave evangelicalism thinking they’re leaving Christianity altogether—when in reality, they’re just beginning to discover how wide and varied the Christian tradition actually is.

Evangelicalism isn’t the whole story. It’s not even the oldest story. What many of us were handed was a culturally specific, modern, Western form of faith that developed in the shadow of Enlightenment thinking, American individualism, and a frontier spirit.

It’s no wonder it feels so disconnected now.

Evangelicalism Is a Modern, Individualistic Religion

Evangelicalism, especially the American kind, is a relatively recent development. It was deeply shaped by the rise of modernity: personal responsibility, private interpretation of scripture, and an emphasis on individual salvation.

Everything became about you. Your personal relationship with Jesus. Your quiet time. Your sin. Your eternity. Your salvation.

It also came with modern marketing, revivalism, and capitalism baked in. Mega-churches, altar calls, purity rings, asking Jesus into your heart, young earth museums, and Stryper concerts weren’t timeless or universal. They were cultural adaptations.

Jesus rocks!

But many of us have grown disillusioned with it. Not because we hate Christianity. But because evangelicalism was sold to us as the only legitimate version of Christianity.

It’s not.

Christianity Has Always Been Bigger Than That

Historically, Christianity was much more collective, mystical, and open to mystery. Eastern Orthodoxy, Catholicism, Anglicanism, contemplative traditions, liberation theology, and ancient mystics all held radically different ideas about God, faith, scripture, and salvation.

But most evangelicals were taught that these Christians weren’t “real” Christians—or were at best, confused.

We grew up thinking we were the default setting for Christianity.

That’s just not historically accurate. At all.

When someone says to me, “I don’t know if I can even call myself a Christian anymore,” my first instinct is:

“Which version of Christianity are you talking about?”

Because there’s a good chance you’re just outgrowing a narrow box—not the entire faith.

Upgrade to paid

Many Deconstructing Evangelicals Don’t Stay Evangelical

This is unscientific, but here’s what I’ve seen after a couple of decades of watching people deconstruct.

A large percentage remain Christian, just in different forms—mystical, progressive, liturgical, contemplative, and so on.
Another sizable group becomes secular humanist, agnostic, or atheist, or simply chooses to live without a self-identifying label.
A smaller percentage finds a home in a different faith tradition altogether.
A few return to their evangelical roots, but with a genuinely fresh perspective.

Of course, there’s overlap, blending, and nuance.

This isn’t a predictable funnel. It’s a personal process.

But the point is: you have options.

You’re not betraying your past by evolving beyond it.

And you’re not alone in how disorienting it feels.

My Journey: Agnostic, Mystic, Materialist, Still Christian

I tried to walk away entirely. For a while, I lived as a materialist atheist. I tried to rationalize everything. Push the divine to the background.

But I couldn’t stay there.

I’ve had mystical experiences I can’t explain away. Moments of awe, transcendence, connection. And honestly? I missed Jesus. At least my version of him. I didn’t know how much until I tried to live without him.

So I landed somewhere new: as an agnostic, theologically liberal, Christian mystic.

That’s my path. Yours may look different.

You Don’t Have to Believe in That to Still Believe in Something

If you’ve stopped believing in the evangelical version of Christianity, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped being spiritual. Or ethical. Or thoughtful. Or even Christian.

You’re not broken. You’re growing.

I don’t care where you end up. That’s not my job. I’m not here to reel you back in.

Let me say this clearly—especially because if you grew up anything like I did, it’s actually hard to believe someone (especially a former pastor) means it:

I’m a pluralist.

I don’t care what you believe.
I don’t care if you agree with me on anything.
I don’t care if you still consider yourself a Christian or not.

I care about you.

I want you to become who you want to become. I want this space to be safe for seeking, questioning, doubting, wandering, and rebuilding at your own pace and in your own direction.

But I do want you to know: just because you don’t believe in one version of Christianity doesn’t mean there aren’t others worth exploring.

Some of you just need to hear this:

You didn’t grow up “Christian.” You grew up evangelical.

(Or Catholic or Mormon or Presbyterian or whatever it was…)

And now?

Now you get to begin the long, beautiful, messy work of exploring what’s next—on your own terms, in your own time.

And you’re free to leave Christianity behind.

Just make sure that before you leave, you take an honest glance around and notice that the tent is a lot bigger than any of us were ever told.

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Reimagine Curator January 25, 2026 14:49
GUEST-POST - Joe Boyd

NOTE: I do not always agree with the author's conclusions

but I am often in agreement with his perceptive analysis of the current state of Evangelicalism.

Evangelicalism is Only a Small Part of Christianity

Most of us who were raised evangelical were told we were raised Christian. As if we were the only ones. That's far from accurate.

Joe Boyd
Most of us who were raised evangelical were told we were raised “Christian.”

And sure, evangelicalism is a form of Christianity. But it’s also not, like many of us were taught, the only way to be a Christian.

Far from it.

I want to be clear up front: I don’t care where you end up. I’m not trying to recruit you into a “new kind of Christian” club. I’ve just been around long enough to know that a lot of people leave evangelicalism thinking they’re leaving Christianity altogether—when in reality, they’re just beginning to discover how wide and varied the Christian tradition actually is.

Evangelicalism isn’t the whole story. It’s not even the oldest story. What many of us were handed was a culturally specific, modern, Western form of faith that developed in the shadow of Enlightenment thinking, American individualism, and a frontier spirit.

It’s no wonder it feels so disconnected now.

Evangelicalism Is a Modern, Individualistic Religion

Evangelicalism, especially the American kind, is a relatively recent development. It was deeply shaped by the rise of modernity: personal responsibility, private interpretation of scripture, and an emphasis on individual salvation.

Everything became about you. Your personal relationship with Jesus. Your quiet time. Your sin. Your eternity. Your salvation.

It also came with modern marketing, revivalism, and capitalism baked in. Mega-churches, altar calls, purity rings, asking Jesus into your heart, young earth museums, and Stryper concerts weren’t timeless or universal. They were cultural adaptations.

Jesus rocks!

But many of us have grown disillusioned with it. Not because we hate Christianity. But because evangelicalism was sold to us as the only legitimate version of Christianity.

It’s not.

Christianity Has Always Been Bigger Than That

Historically, Christianity was much more collective, mystical, and open to mystery. Eastern Orthodoxy, Catholicism, Anglicanism, contemplative traditions, liberation theology, and ancient mystics all held radically different ideas about God, faith, scripture, and salvation.

But most evangelicals were taught that these Christians weren’t “real” Christians—or were at best, confused.

We grew up thinking we were the default setting for Christianity.

That’s just not historically accurate. At all.

When someone says to me, “I don’t know if I can even call myself a Christian anymore,” my first instinct is:

“Which version of Christianity are you talking about?”

Because there’s a good chance you’re just outgrowing a narrow box—not the entire faith.

Upgrade to paid

Many Deconstructing Evangelicals Don’t Stay Evangelical

This is unscientific, but here’s what I’ve seen after a couple of decades of watching people deconstruct.

A large percentage remain Christian, just in different forms—mystical, progressive, liturgical, contemplative, and so on.

Another sizable group becomes secular humanist, agnostic, or atheist, or simply chooses to live without a self-identifying label.

A smaller percentage finds a home in a different faith tradition altogether.

A few return to their evangelical roots, but with a genuinely fresh perspective.

Of course, there’s overlap, blending, and nuance.

This isn’t a predictable funnel. It’s a personal process.

But the point is: you have options.

You’re not betraying your past by evolving beyond it.

And you’re not alone in how disorienting it feels.

My Journey: Agnostic, Mystic, Materialist, Still Christian

I tried to walk away entirely. For a while, I lived as a materialist atheist. I tried to rationalize everything. Push the divine to the background.

But I couldn’t stay there.

I’ve had mystical experiences I can’t explain away. Moments of awe, transcendence, connection. And honestly? I missed Jesus. At least my version of him. I didn’t know how much until I tried to live without him.

So I landed somewhere new: as an agnostic, theologically liberal, Christian mystic.

That’s my path. Yours may look different.

You Don’t Have to Believe in That to Still Believe in Something

If you’ve stopped believing in the evangelical version of Christianity, it doesn’t mean you’ve stopped being spiritual. Or ethical. Or thoughtful. Or even Christian.

You’re not broken. You’re growing.

I don’t care where you end up. That’s not my job. I’m not here to reel you back in.

Let me say this clearly—especially because if you grew up anything like I did, it’s actually hard to believe someone (especially a former pastor) means it:

I’m a pluralist.

I don’t care what you believe.
I don’t care if you agree with me on anything.
I don’t care if you still consider yourself a Christian or not.

I care about you.

I want you to become who you want to become. I want this space to be safe for seeking, questioning, doubting, wandering, and rebuilding at your own pace and in your own direction.

But I do want you to know: just because you don’t believe in one version of Christianity doesn’t mean there aren’t others worth exploring.

Some of you just need to hear this:

You didn’t grow up “Christian.” You grew up evangelical.

(Or Catholic or Mormon or Presbyterian or whatever it was…)

And now?

Now you get to begin the long, beautiful, messy work of exploring what’s next—on your own terms, in your own time.

And you’re free to leave Christianity behind.

Just make sure that before you leave, you take an honest glance around and notice that the tent is a lot bigger than any of us were ever told.

This reply was deleted.

Note 2.0

GUEST - POST: ReExamine Unity