The Church’s Name
Names matter, but mission matters more. For generations, the name like “church of Christ” has reflected a sincere desire to belong to Jesus and to center life on Scripture. We honor that heritage. At the same time, we recognize that many people in our community carry confusion, assumptions, or past hurt connected to church labels. Our decision to use a different name is not about distancing ourselves from our roots. It is about removing barriers so people can encounter Jesus first.
Jesus Christ taught that new wine requires new wineskins (Matthew 9:17; Mark 2:22). The life of the kingdom is dynamic, growing, and expanding. When forms that once served the mission begin to create friction for those we are trying to reach, wisdom invites adaptation. The message does not change, but the container sometimes must.
The New Testament shows that the earliest believers were not defined by a single institutional name. They were called disciples, emphasizing apprenticeship to Jesus (Acts 6:1). They were called brothers and sisters, highlighting family identity (Romans 8:29). In Antioch they were first called Christians (Acts 11:26), a label given by outsiders that simply meant people belonging to Christ. They were also known as the Way (Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23), a name that captured the idea that following Jesus was a lived path, not merely a religious affiliation. The variety of names reveals a flexible identity anchored in Jesus rather than in branding.
That flexibility shapes our approach today. In many places, traditional labels communicate insider language before people ever experience community. A different name creates space for curiosity. It signals that this is a church for people who are exploring faith, returning after disappointment, or encountering Jesus for the first time. It allows our identity to be discovered through relationships, shared meals, prayer, and transformed lives rather than assumptions tied to a label.
This is not a rejection of legacy churches. Established congregations carry wisdom, stability, and faithfulness that church plants desperately need. New expressions of church simply create additional on-ramps for people who might never walk through traditional doors. Both are part of the same story God is writing.
Our name is therefore a missional decision. It reflects a commitment to speak the language of our neighbors, to lower unnecessary barriers, and to keep the focus where the New Testament keeps it — on life with Jesus. We remain rooted in the same gospel, the same Scriptures, and the same call to discipleship. What changes is our willingness to hold forms loosely so people can hold onto Christ firmly.
If the earliest believers could be known as disciples, Christians, and the Way, then we can also choose language that helps people see Jesus more clearly. The wineskin can adapt. The wine remains the same. And our hope is simple: that whatever name appears on the sign, people encounter a community where they can walk the Way of Jesus and discover the life he offers.
