Naming the Church: Expressions of Belonging and Belief Through the Centuries

In this installment of the "What's In a Name?" series, Rev. Dr. Kyle Dieleman and Rev. Dr. Jeremy Perigo share their knowledge in church history and the contemporary church to highlight the relationship between church naming, tradition, and identity in the landscape of modern Christianity. Their conversation with Sarah Moss has been edited for clarity and brevity.

Sarah Moss: How were churches commonly named in the early centuries of Christianity, and what can those patterns tell us about their priorities and identity?

Kyle Dieleman: The earliest naming of churches was mostly place-based, and that continues for the first couple hundred years until Christianity becomes the privileged religion in the Roman Empire with Constantine. Around 313, Christianity shifts from being persecuted and without buildings to having imperial support. Now they're getting money, land, and can build churches.

That’s when naming shifts. It’s not just by place, but primarily after people: apostles, Mary, martyrs, and saints. That pattern continues for a long time, really until the Reformation. Churches are often named after particular saints or apostles, and that’s still tied to geography.

For example, St. Peter’s in Rome is named because Peter’s relics are there, where he was martyred. Similarly, if there was a martyr in France important to a community, the church would likely take that name.

Jeremy Perigo: To add to that, it was also sometimes tied to the name of whoever's house, often just based on what member of the community had a big enough home that everybody could meet in.

Places of worship emerged where there were commemorations of God's activity in history, particularly around the life of Jesus. At the end of the fourth century, a pilgrim from Rome travels around Jerusalem, visiting churches—some of them quite close together, like the place on Golgotha where Christ was crucified and the tomb. She describes worship there involving local members who lived in Jerusalem, but also, even then, pilgrims and worship tourists visiting these sites—like we might today. They weren’t always just one particular body with one particular member, although they had bishops and leaders. Sometimes, particularly in places like Jerusalem or Rome, there were multiple places right next to each other, remembering what God did there through different people.

Sarah Moss: Can you elaborate on the naming of churches within the Dutch history and Reformed tradition?

Kyle Dieleman: That shift really happened at the time of the Reformation, because there wasn’t particular interest in naming things after saints, though some Protestant and Lutheran churches did keep those names as well. Similarly, a lot of Reformed communities might keep the Catholic names because they're taking over the buildings. However, if they're building new churches, then they'll often name them in more practical ways, such as based on location. For example, in Amsterdam, there's the West Kerk, which is simply just the church on the west side of the city. Or some names reference an architectural feature—the new church, the big church, and so on. I think that’s why we see churches named first, second, and so on—it’s a practical way to identify a church. Although that’s not to say there are no names tied to geographical location in the Reformed tradition. There are still churches named that way.

Sarah Moss: We talked about how the Reformation shifted naming practices among churches, but are there more modern instances where current events and cultural shifts impact the way churches choose or have chosen a name?

Jeremy Perigo: There are a couple of things that come to mind. In the last century there has been this movement which is based on a theology of missions and outreach. There was a focus on planting new churches and lowering some of the religious barriers to access. That focus seems to shift the focus of names to more novel names such as Sunrise or Crossroads or Crosspoint. Some of that emerges as churches are thinking about how to be more missional and engaging people who are unchurched or post church, who might not understand what “First Christian Reformed Church” or “First Assembly of God” is like. Without historical or familial ties, denominational names can seem inaccessible. So, churches started choosing names with broader appeal and less explicitly religious language. I'd trace much of this to the Seeker-Sensitive Movement out of Willow Creek.

While invitational names have value, there's a question of how much emphasis should be placed on branding—and what happens in 20 or 30 years when those names are no longer "cool."

Some newly planted churches are maintaining denominational ties or historic names because there's a desire for that connection. Denominations also shift—churches leave, merge, or realign—creating opportunities to reconsider naming. A merger or move to a new network often prompts the question: What’s our new identity?

Another factor is church planting—daughter or sister churches. That’s been a longstanding practice in many traditions: one church planting another in a different part of town or region. In that case, you're not going to be First Christian Reformed Church—that name’s already taken by the sending church. So, you need a name that reflects the new community.

Sarah Moss: It seems like one of the growing denominations is non-denominational. So do you think that plays into the naming of the church, and even just the fact that now a denomination doesn't have a name itself?

Kyle Dieleman: I think declining denominational loyalty is clearly reflected in naming. CRC, for example, used to be prominent in nearly every church name, and the same goes for many traditions. But now, as Jeremy said, those affiliations are often removed. That shift shows what's important to people—if denominational identity isn’t a priority, it won’t appear in the name.

This trend goes beyond denominations—it reflects broader changes in Christianity. Take Willow Creek, for example. If you didn’t know, it could just as easily be a mall as a church. The name gives no obvious indication it’s a religious institution. That’s becoming more common.

Jeremy Perigo: Even a name like Grace, a deeply theological and Reformed term, is used across many traditions. I know Baptist, United Methodist, and non-denominational churches all use it. So even though it holds particular importance in our tradition, it’s also significant in others.

That makes it tricky if you're trying to identify a church just by its name. You move to a new city and see Grace Church—it could be charismatic, Methodist, non-denominational, or something else entirely. A name that feels deeply rooted in one tradition can still be widely used, making it less helpful for identifying theological or denominational identity.

Sarah Moss: Have you observed any notable trends in churches and naming or renaming themselves?

Kyle Dieleman: Churches in America increasingly downplaying denominational names, especially over the last 20 or 30 years, is one that comes to mind. I think part of it is an ecumenical shift—denominational distinctions are seen as less important. I think even our students here on campus wrestle with that. Perhaps there are questions about the difference between CRC, RCA, or Presbyterian churches, for example. Even within Presbyterianism, there are multiple branches.

The Seeker-Sensitive Movement also played a role. If Presbyterian evokes “Scottish” or Lutheran suggests “German,” removing that from the name can make the church feel more welcoming beyond those ethnic or cultural boundaries—for better or worse.

Jeremy Perigo: In some cases, it might also be a response to scandals or controversy within a denomination. Even if the local church isn’t involved, people may associate it with something that happened elsewhere. This is true in other contexts as well, but you inherit both the positives and negatives of the broader group.

So, perhaps it seems that removing the denominational label is a way to be more open and welcoming, or to align with the rise of non-denominationalism—saying, we're just Christians, too. That has its upsides. But when people want to understand what a church really believes, how it practices worship, or what network it's part of, the lack of clear affiliation can leave a lot of unanswered questions.

Sarah Moss: So how might churches navigate naming when dealing with splits, demographic changes, or new church plants? What does that tell us about the role of tradition versus adaptation?

Kyle Dieleman: Churches today are much less parish-centered than they used to be. People no longer attend the church nearest to their home—they often drive past several to attend one that fits their preferences. That shift from a neighborhood or town-based identity to a choice-based membership model changes the way churches name themselves. You no longer need to call it South Side CRC if people from all over are attending.

I saw this clearly when I lived in Chicagoland. There was a church originally founded by an Irish Catholic community, named after an Irish saint—it might have even been St. Patrick. But over time, the neighborhood became primarily Hispanic. Some of my students attended the church but had no idea who St. Patrick was. They resonated more with figures like Our Lady of Guadalupe. That raises the question: as parish demographics shift, should churches rename themselves to reflect the new community, or preserve the original name out of tradition? It’s a real tension churches have to navigate.

Jeremy Perigo: That geographic shift you mentioned is also tied to demographic changes—many historic churches moved out of downtown or planted suburban daughter churches, moving away from the parish model. As a result, you rarely see new churches named First Presbyterian or First Reformed anymore. The naming conventions have evolved.

Church splits add another layer. When congregations divide but stay in the same town or denomination, naming can get messy. You end up with Hope and New Hope, or Grace and New Grace—clear markers of division, which is often unhelpful. At the same time, names tend to be aspirational—like Hope, New Life, or God’s Grace—while also trying to distinguish one church from another.

Kyle Dieleman: That’s true. Naming also plays a role in how churches position themselves after divisions or transitions. Denominational names can send implicit messages—like Christian Reformed versus Reformed, or United Reformed coming out of a split. These names aren’t neutral, and they can often assert a theological or historical distinction, intentionally or not.

Sarah Moss: To what extent do you see church renaming today as a helpful or problematic practice?

Kyle Dieleman: On the one hand, I could see it as helpful in that it forces churches to think about what's important and somewhat aspirational in who we want to be. I think that can be helpful in some ways. But perhaps at its worst, I can imagine it becomes a sort of competition, kind of like I mentioned before—are we saying Christian Reformed is more Christian or United Reformed is more united? I think there’s a danger in focusing too much on names as what sets a church apart, and we have to consider what those implied messages in our names say about not just who we are but what we believe about others.

Jeremy Perigo: I think it can create this cycle. Does our concern with having a “fitting” name put a model of branding and marketing on the body of Christ community to always have to be rebranding? This idea of constantly rebranding or even resetting the priorities might not be very helpful and could even be toxic in the long run.

Kyle Dieleman: There are also leadership theories to consider as well.

Jeremy Perigo: In non-denominational or very congregationally led churches, it often comes with a new pastor, a new brand, or a new logo, or a new website. And again, it does allow for fresh vision and new ideas—which are not bad things. But the downside is that it does become tied to one person, one vision that will also end at some point.

What's beautiful to see about the churches who have maintained their identity is this connection with the history, with past, and with the community beyond the moment, whether that's 25 years in newer church plants or hundreds of years in certain context.

Kyle Dieleman: I do think that we tend to function on one of the built-in assumptions is that new is always better, sort of cultural assumption. It seems the exact opposite of the gospel, where actually a new Christian message is not better, it's the old message that is the good news. Part of belonging to the Christian community is that you don't have to be distinct all the time. You're part of this broader tradition, which is not to say you can't change names or anything like that, but to think intentionally about your place within the narrative of God's story seems important to me, and maybe the constant rebranding or renaming might blind people to that a little bit.

Sarah Moss: That goes along with my final question: if the Church is ultimately “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic”—what does it mean that we divide and distinguish ourselves through names? Are church names a help or a hindrance to expressing that unity?

Jeremy Perigo: I personally think that a church name should reflect the context of the community, but also be connected to the larger church. Each church is somewhat unique in a particular place a particular time, and their name should reflect that, but also that there is this connection to the broader Church, the big church. We are contextually distinct. There are distinctions. Names can reflect those local contexts and local things happening, and they can also point back to the historic church.

Kyle Dieleman: I agree. When Christianity was the majority sort of cultural power, churches could just boldly state, "We are this church," and people would come. Even though there are cultural shifts, and there are people who may have negative experiences or church burnout, I think we still need to be willing to proclaim and not hide that our churches are churches.

On the one hand, it feels like naming should be indicative of the context, whether that's geographical or sort of historical, but theological in that it should give you a sense of the sort of community you're going to enter into.

I think the way I would want to frame it is to consider if our naming helps us both draw attention to the particularities as well as connect us to the broader body of believers. Our individual churches have value and are distinct, but our connection to the Church also deeply matters.