This is the fourth piece in our series on Christian Unity to commemorate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation.

I remember the first church I visited when my parents dropped me off for college. I was more than a little judgmental. 

People aren’t even raising their hands. 

Is this their version of a fast song? 

I can’t believe song service is already over!

See, I was raised in a non-denominational church that leaned heavily charismatic. This song service seemed unbearably tame compared to the services back home. Were these people even worshiping? 

Then came campus chapel, mandatory three times a week. Again, I was baffled by the stoicism. Seriously, were these kids even moving their lips?

The traditions I encountered within my budding friend group continued to catch me off guard. Lutheran (isn’t that the Protestant version of Catholicism?), Presbyterian (so you haven’t been baptized since you were a baby?), Dispensationalism (you’ve NEVER been baptized?) and home-churchers (does that even count as church?). 

One of the first days of freshman orientation, I stumbled upon a group of fellow incomers engrossed in a Calvinism vs. Arminianism debate. I sat entranced, wide eyes darting back and forth as teenagers argued Reformed theology. Bit by bit our group grew larger as freshman (largely from Christian, homeschool backgrounds) wandered by and latched on to a common comfort zone: impassioned debate.

After all, it seemed easier to nitpick theological nuances than try to find real unity with these people whose church experiences were so different.

Hymns Changing My Heart

As a college freshman, I knew, of course, that my way was right. Those high church folks were so obsessed with their liturgy I thought their personal faith must be stale. Those Reformed Baptists were so consumed with their Five Points, they couldn’t talk about anything else. Those Presbyterians looked so uncomfortable when we sang anything with a beat I wondered if they were able to worship at all. 

Thanks be to God (which, by the way, is something I learned people say after reading a passage of Scripture), He doesn’t let us stay in such prideful states of mind very long. And wow, were my assumptions ridiculous.

Some of the first things that softened my heart toward these foreign ways were hymns. Sure, I knew the basics like “Amazing Grace” and “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” But my home church usually sang the latest contemporary worship tunes. In chapel, a whole new world opened up. 

These weren’t crusty words mumbled apathetically by people afraid of drum sets. These were truths that had comforted, motivated and convicted believers for centuries. And now they comforted, motivated and convicted me — as well as my classmates. As the facade of bravado wore off and the unfamiliarity of a new routine set in, we weren’t debating our denominational differences anymore. We were just worshiping together.  

When Denomination Didn’t Matter

I also learned more about the people whose traditions I side-eyed. Behind the fiery Calvinist, the quiet Lutheran and the conservative Presbyterian were young adults of deep faith. People who gathered for impromptu worship sessions. People who joined in prayer for our student body — some with outstretched arms and inspired words, others with bent knee and familiar refrain. 

When a friend’s parent died that year, it didn’t matter what denomination we were from when we prayed for her. When I returned from the hospital after a bout with kidney stones, it didn’t matter what church my friends attended when they stopped by to share class notes or care baskets.

When, through the next four years, my peers battled depression, suicide, eating disorders, sexual sin, sexual abuse, and every problem known to man, it didn’t matter whether we were Anglican, Catholic or Evangelical. What mattered is that we pointed each other to the Healer, the Redeemer, the Savior. 

By graduation, I had true friends in just about every Christian theological camp. Because of that, I gleaned a rich patchwork of perspectives. Things I learned from those friendships still broaden my understanding of God to this day.

Believers From All Backgrounds

In college I learned that the secondary issues — whether you think hair should be long or alcohol should be prohibited or church services should consist of Spirit-filled spontaneity — don’t ultimately matter. It’s not that those things aren’t important. It’s not even that divides between denominations aren’t wide.

But it wasn’t a denomination that pulled me through seasons of struggle or taught me more about Christ. It was real people. Believers who came from all backgrounds, but had one vital thing in common: a commitment to Jesus as their Lord and Savior. 

Today when seeking out a church, I’m not glued to a particular worship style or service structure. Because I recognize that denomination, in the eternal scheme of things, doesn’t really matter. What matters is adherence to God’s Word. Knowing Jesus Christ. Loving God and loving others — tongues-speaking Pentecostals, hymnal-toting Baptists and all.