James Talarico is a really normal Christian (thank God).

Progressive mainline Protestants aren't an endangered species - we're just not as loud as Christian nationalists.

As a pastor in a progressive mainline denomination, something funny happens every once in a while: a progressive Christian breaks through into the national spotlight, and people react as if they’ve just discovered a rare species thought to be extinct.

Most recently, it’s happened with James Talarico, the Texas senate candidate and PC(USA) seminarian. He went on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, and his interview went viral when the FCC and network censored Colbert. His interview was primarily about why his faith compels him to oppose Christian nationalism and love his neighbor.¹

Talarico said:

“When I was little, [my grandfather] told me that Christianity is a simple religion. Not an easy religion, he would always clarify, but a simple religion because Jesus gave us two commandments. Love God and love neighbor. And there was no exception to that second commandment… And I think we need someone in the U.S. Senate who is going to confront Christian nationalism and tell the truth, which is that there is nothing Christian about Christian nationalism. It is the worship of power in the name of Christ. And it is a betrayal of Jesus of Nazareth.”

What a terrifying radical, huh?²

People hear this and respond with genuine surprise, whether after the Colbert interview or a similar interview he did with Ezra Klein a few months ago. Comment sections are always filled with surprised comments: “This is the kind of Christian I respect.” “If every Christian were like this, I’d still be in church.” and my favorite: “Where can I find a church like his?” (These are all real comments from YouTube and the Spotify comments of his Klein interview.)

As much as they bemuse me, I understand how these commenters have come to be surprised by the existence of a Christian who isn’t a radicalized nationalist. Their primary exposure to Christianity has been through the loudest, angriest, most politically powerful expressions of the faith - which feels naturally at odds with the compassionate, pacifist teacher who died on the cross and encouraged meekness among his followers.

Talarico isn’t the first time a progressive Christian has gone briefly viral.

Before Trump’s second inauguration, the Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde, the Episcopal bishop of Washington, preached directly to the president and asked him to show mercy to frightened immigrants, transgender children, and families living under constant threat. The clip circulated widely, and people shared it with comments like, “This is what Christianity is supposed to look like.”

It also happened a few years ago when Bishop Michael Curry preached at the royal wedding about love, or anytime Jimmy Carter taught about wealth and service. Every once and a while, one of the Christian left gets a word in edgewise.

Every time something like this happens, I feel grateful to have my faith represented well, and a little, well, confused. I listened to Bishop Budde’s sermon at the time, and I appreciated it — but honestly? I’ve heard similar sermons almost every Sunday for years. What was special about this one?³ The version of Christianity represented by Talarico and Budde is not niche, or new, or even marginal. Frankly, it’s normal mainline Protestant Christianity.

One of the most famous mainline Protestants who embodies this kind of ethic is probably Mr. Rogers. He was a Presbyterian minister, much like Talarico is striving to become, and his call was to host a children’s television show. He spent decades on public television teaching children that they were loved, that their feelings mattered, and that their neighbors deserved kindness — the same teachings which underlie people like Talarico and Budde. At the time, nobody thought of Mr. Rogers as “radical.” He was just… Christian.

Mr. Rogers’ (the most famous Christian urbanist) faith compelled him to make a public stand against segregation at a time when this was controversial.

Progressive Christianity feels novel today largely because conservative evangelicalism has become so politically dominant. For many Americans, “Christian” now defaults to megachurch pastors, culture-war pundits, and politicians invoking God while stripping away rights. That version of Christianity is loud, centralized, and extremely well funded.

Mainline Protestantism, by contrast, is old and structurally boring.

Mainline churches include denominations like the PC(USA), UMC, ELCA, UCC,⁴ American Baptist Church, the Disciples of Christ, and the Episcopal Church. We aren’t united by a single worship style or political platform, but we tend to share some family resemblances: a willingness to engage modern scholarship, an emphasis on social ethics, and a basic conviction that loving your neighbor is not an abstract idea but a public responsibility. We recognize and respect that God calls women to ministry and always has, and it’s not uncommon for us to be pro-choice and LGBTQ affirming. What separates us tend to be our histories, polities (how we govern our churches), and worship styles — not really our theological beliefs, mostly.⁵

Heirs of the Social Gospel, or Postmillennialism

I’d argue that Protestantism in the US can be largely divided into two groups: those who are the theological heirs of the Social Gospel, and those who are the heirs of premillennialism.

Historically, mainline Protestant churches are the descendants of the Social Gospel movement and the Civil Rights movement. These are rooted in the idea of living out faith for social reform, role of the church in community organizing, and emphasize the imago dei in each person. For generations, we’ve helped build hospitals, universities, and social service agencies. We’ve been present in labor organizing, desegregation efforts, refugee resettlement, and environmental activism. We produce clergy who march, get arrested, and write sermons about housing, wages, war, and racism.

Of course, mainline Protestants are far from perfect. We’ve been historically very comfortable with power and often quite wealthy, though this is changing. We are often sleepy and complacent. Our denominations have been historically segregated. We have much to repent for. But our dominant instinct has been that faith should push society toward greater dignity, not tighter control.

Evangelicalism comes from… a different lineage.

Millennialism is a part of Christian eschatology (end of the world talk) that, frankly, is not very important to me as an individual Christian, or most of the people I know well. I don’t think much about the end of the world, especially in a religious context. But I did write my undergraduate thesis about it, so buckle up.

Millennialism is about the second coming of Christ, and is based in Revelation 20.⁶ It refers to a belief in a thousand year reign of peace. Premillennialism refers to the idea that Jesus will come before this thousand year reign of peace to usher it into the world, after a period of tribulation. This was popularized by the Scofield Reference Bible and the Bible & Prophecy movement, which also informed the publishing of The Fundamentals, the tracts which would give us the word fundamentalists. Those who once called themselves fundamentalists would soon grow weary of its connotations and want to be called evangelicals instead.

In the twentieth century, that lineage merged with televangelism, suburban megachurch growth, and eventually an explicit political project. Over time, massive donor networks, media empires, and advocacy organizations formed around a relatively narrow set of issues: abortion, sexuality, gender roles, and religious identity.

This infrastructure is why evangelical Christianity feels omnipresent. It isn’t necessarily because there are more evangelicals than other Christians (there are slightly more evangelicals than mainline Protestants, and both are on the decline). It’s just that evangelicalism is a well-oiled machine and a high-control religion.

Mainline Protestants didn’t form such a machine, and our churches are not high-control places.

Hundreds of clergy were arrested in Minnesota for protesting ICE last month.

Evangelicals Don’t Own Christianity

So when someone like Talarico reaches a national stage and speaks about how Jesus’s teachings compel him to a progressive politic, it surprises people. But it’s not that Talarico is unusual; it’s just that the Christian Left and Mainline Protestantism isn’t very well organized.

Talarico, Budde, and even Mr. Rogers represent millions of Christians who quietly believe that their faith calls them to support a strong social safety net, well-funded public schools, freedom of religion, reproductive healthcare, labor rights, immigrant dignity, LGBTQ inclusion, and full civil rights for all people.

But if you know where to look, progressive mainline Christians are everywhere. Hundreds of mainline clergy converged in Minnesota to oppose ICE. Dozens of Methodist clergy recently showed up for a Day on the Hill at the Tennessee State Capitol. Every June, churches show up in droves at Pride parades across the country. We are faithful people who show up every day, saying what Talarico says: “Jesus gave us two commandments. Love God and love neighbor. And there was no exception to that second commandment”

We tend not to be good at telling the story, which is our fault. A lot of this is a reticence to be associated with those Christians — you know, the nationalists who somehow twist the faith to justify all manner of bigotry.

But, what Talarico shows us is that we need to own our faith again. Evangelicalism does not own Christianity. Christian nationalism does not own Jesus. Reactionary politics do not get to define the gospel by default.

Progressive Christianity is not a tiny rebellion inside a conservative religion. It is one of the oldest streams of American Christianity.

So, if you’re one of those people who feels compelled by the faith of Talarico or Bishop Budde — try going to a mainline church this Sunday. Odds are good that, somewhere near you, a very ordinary congregation is quietly trying to love God and love its neighbors in ways that look a lot like what surprised you on your screen.

And if you’re like me, and this is the theological water you swim in, perhaps we can take Talarico as an example and be louder about how our faith informs our progressive politics.

1. It’s worth noting that Stephen Colbert is also a man of faith, a Catholic who has talked about how Catholic Social Teaching has informed his politics.

2. People actually are terrified of authentic love for neighbor. See: the crucifixion.

3. She did preach a good and hard word in front of the President elect of the US, knowing it would get blow back. This isn’t a mark against Budde in any way, shape, or form.

4. I find this list of initialisms kind of hilarious. They stand for: Presbyterian Church (USA), United Methodist Church, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and the United Church of Christ. I’m an ELCA pastor, personally.

5. Obviously, there are some theological differences among us - but I argue that we are more similar than different.

6. I think this is a misuse of Revelation as a text.