Questioning Christianity?

by Alison Webster
Originally published in Signs of The Times Autumn 2025

On a global scale, most people are born into some kind of religious tradition. But in the so-called ‘secular west’, many of us have no inherited spiritual reference points. Arguably, though, we all have a desire to make sense of the world: who we are in it and in relation to others – our family, community and heritage. To flourish we need a purpose, a sense of belonging, and ways of making meaning. In other words, we are all on a spiritual path – making sense of our loves and losses. The question is, what will we draw on to feed and structure that journey?

This is territory explored by Lamorna Ash in her much acclaimed new book, ‘Don’t Forget We’re Here Forever: A New Generation’s Search for Religion’ (1). Intrigued by two of her university friends who became Anglican priests, Ash undertook a journalistic, immersive and experiential survey of a diverse range of Christian spiritual practices in the UK. From conservative evangelical bible studies and communes – which quickly exposed that, in her words, ‘It’s not good enough to say you love someone and offer them cake while condemning who they are.’ (p. 44) – to volunteering at Iona Abbey, attending Quaker meetings, and experimenting with a Jesuit silent retreat.

Her journey ends with a (to many of us) surprising summary: ‘…not only did I meet a host of people in their twenties and thirties who have converted to some form of Christianity, but I also detected a marked attitudinal shift in how my peers talk about religion compared to the generations which came before us.’ (p. 15), and, ‘At first, I was surprised by the number of my friends who described to me times of desolation or breaking point in which they’ve ended up in church…there are no other public spaces which fulfil this requirement, acting as portals to direct you to places outside of your ordinary modes of thought.’ (p. 289)

In the end (though, of course, it won’t really be the end), she finds a home at St Luke’s Holloway, formerly the Anglican home of post-evangelical vicar Dave Tomlinson; home to more than its fair share of creatives. Her rationale? ‘I know you don’t need religion to keep awake, or to be a good person – often the opposite is true. But I think I might need it for that. I think I might need the ritual of Sunday worship to discover the courage to become the version of myself I would like to be’ (p. 290)

Much of what Ash discovers to be of value for her generation is exemplified in the tradition of ‘progressive Christianity’: an approach to questions of ultimate meaning and value that is found across different forms of church and different denominations. It encompasses leaders, but also those who inhabit the margins and hinterlands – those who can’t (or can no longer) fully trust even the most inclusive of institutions. Like Ash, those who live in these borderlands have often experienced exclusion and rejection from conservative Christians, who have deemed their lives or identities to be unacceptable because of gender, sexuality, race, disability, or their theological approach – the way they conceive of and talk about the divine.

Modern Church itself was formed out of internal discussions across Christian denominations in the late nineteenth century, when churches and Christian organisations split or fell out over developments in the wider world. Churches faced a choice about whether to reject or engage with new and emergent thinking – especially scientific discoveries, and approaches to literary texts. Some took a conservative approach, considering modern science a dangerous threat to our religious beliefs. They couldn’t conceive of studying and analysing the Bible like any other book, feeling that to do so was to compromise the Truth (with a capital ‘T’). Others felt that God and the Christian faith are so big, so rooted in mystery, that the human mind is meant to be stretched and challenged, and faith cannot be shaken by any discovery about our world which is, after all, God’s creation – as are we. This approach was called ‘modern’, or ‘progressive’.

It is an approach that values questions above answers. Reflection on our experience is crucial. If we ride rough-shod over it, or embrace an ideology that results in self-hatred, shame, or the rejection of others, this is a sure sign of a toxic spirituality. Knowing ourselves, trusting our bodies and our feelings and those of others, we reflect on where we understand God to be at work in the complexity of our lives. We can be free to embrace a spiritual quest that is akin to an artistic and creative activity. It may involve deep contemplation and mystical connection with God or the divine. And we expect no uniformity or conformity in the images we find helpful in thinking of that.

A progressive approach to faith rejects a rigid set of rules that transcends time and history. It asserts that we are the product of history, and we must embrace the rich tradition of Christianity as a gift not an oppressive and restrictive form of control. Indeed, we are alert to the fact that human beings have a tendency to exercise power over others in an abusive way (Ash didn’t have to look far for that) and we develop a critical awareness of how this works, aiming always to challenge such abuse and resist it.

Progressive Christians are often active members of churches, because we think of faith as being communal and relational, and value learning from and being challenged by others. We revel in sharing ideas and thoughts, knowing that the more we open ourselves to diverse ideas, the more we will learn about ourselves and God.

In our contemporary context we are becoming ever more isolated from one another; rootless, encouraged to value material things and consumption as our way to self-fulfilment. I believe that we need progressive Christianity now more than ever.

Alison Webster is General Secretary of Modern Church.

(1) ‘Don’t Forget We’re Here Forever: A New Generation’s Search for Religion’, Lamorna Ash, Bloomsbury, 2025.