This post is part of my ongoing ‘Talking with God’ project, focusing on the religious practices and beliefs of Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Names have been changed to protect their privacy, and all quotes are given with permission. For more information or to get involved, contact me at: meli.solomon@hebrewcollege.edu.

Denominational labels are practical necessities—they define the group, its theology, and its practice. I have been surprised by the range of answers among the nearly fifty participants about how important the label is and how people feel about their chosen denomination. Responses fall roughly into three groups. Participants are: 1) questioning or struggling, 2) actively embracing, or 3) comfortable with their denominational affiliation. I will take these in turn.

Several participants find identifying their denomination challenging. For this group, none are accurate, or classifications are disliked in general. Harold, when asked whether he identifies with Reform, Conservative, or Orthodox Judaism, responded with distaste, saying: “I’d rather be thought of as a ‘traditionalist’ than as an Orthodox Jew, because ‘correct belief’—the meaning of Orthodox—just seems like the wrong idea.” Similarly, Benjamin dislikes how Modern Orthodoxy has embraced the rationalism of modernity. For him, Mitzvot (normally translated as “good deeds”) are more important than theology and ideology, noting that: “If it was possible, I would be in a fully observant, egalitarian, politically progressive shul with a bent into Chasidut.” While committed to their religious observance as Jews, these two find no comfortable place within the denominations, though that does not impede their prayer practice or personal identity.

Settled in liberal Judaism, Julie, an American from an interfaith family, has a more general complaint about denominational labels: “I don’t know why we have these labels, and I wish we didn’t. I feel like there’s a hierarchy, where Orthodoxy is the most Jewish, Conservative is next most and if you’re kind of Jewish, then you go to the Reform synagogue. That’s what I think the labels mean, and I don’t even think it’s necessarily true. Lots of people in Reform synagogues have a strong Jewish identity. I don’t know why they’re low man on the totem pole.”

As a Christian, religious labels miss the mark of Christ’s teachings for Elisabeth. “What’s important is loving one another and being responsive to the needs around us.” Though her sense of God is different from the Jews previously mentioned, each prioritizes connection and spiritual experience. Regardless of religion or denomination, those interviewed who are questioning and struggling with the boxes share disagreement with the official stance and policies of their congregations, uniformly finding the hierarchy more rigid, exclusionary, and missing the spiritual element they seek.

Three Muslim women are proud of their Muslim identity, yet reject the Sunni/Shia conflict. None of them understand why this divide has been taken up by the media, despite the Qur’an’s injunction against sects—“Those who divide themselves into sects do not belong with you” [S. 6:159]—and generations having lived peaceably together. My assessment is that political leaders have used such divisiveness to sow conflict and win power. A twenty-year-old student from Somaliland admitted learning of these sects upon arrival in the United States. A British convert from Christianity even misspoke when asked for her denomination, saying: “Shia, sorry Sunni. Yeah, Sunni. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m a regular Muslim, if there is such a thing anymore. I don’t see the difference. We’re Muslim and we’re praying to Allah. We read the same book.”

Those participants who embrace their religion strongly include Jehovah’s Witnesses and converts, having chosen their religion. One participant explained the meaning of being a Born-Again Christian. Though raised Baptist, Peggy joined several denominations before finding the right home. She explained that Born Again is: “a term people use, taken from John 3, that you must be born again. We’re born once naturally, in the flesh, and now we are born again in the spirit. Now the spirit comes in and inhabits us with the Holy Spirit and He actually creates something new in us.”

A more surprising description of fervent belief came from a German woman, Ilsa, who said: “Christian denominations come together in the Body of Christ. We’re all individual members. Jesus is the head, and we are the ears, the eyes, the voice, the hands, the feet, the arms, the legs [and] the body.” While several people had extolled the value of community—and all conservative Christians stressed the importance of proselytizing—none had so closely connected their identity with a denomination as Ilsa.

Aside from those struggling and those actively embracing their path, the third group simply felt comfortable about their identity, citing style and connection as deciding factors. Most of the participants were raised within a denomination and many have left, only to return. The Prodigal Son appears in various guises.

A British Anglican, Brian, talked about his conversion experience, inspired by his Christian housemates. After attending some events he said the prayer of surrender to God. “I became somebody that wanted to walk in the same way they were: reading the Bible, having regular prayer times, doing what I could to be talking about God and helping people.” Brian’s commitment to the community and finding a home found common ground with others as well. An American artist in Boston spoke warmly about the “family feel” of her adopted River of Life missionary church. “It’s a good place. I’ve been there for about twenty years. It’s my family. I’ve found a good home.”

In closing, my view of religious identity has shifted from seeing it as biographical data to appreciating the depth many feel about their label. Though all participants identify with some denomination, some struggle, others actively embrace it, and yet others are comfortable with it. Denominational labels turn out to be complex openings to identity and practice. This question is an invitation for each of us to reflect. What denominational label do you use, and what does that mean to you?

Photo by Sanwal Deen on Unsplash