National Christianity, Pentecost, and Why Inclusion Still Isn’t the Church’s Default
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This episode started with a new issue of The Christian Century mysteriously showing up in your mailbox—“Like, real print issues mailed to you,” as Melissa laughed—and somehow turned into a deep dive on national Christianity, Pentecost, and how little the American church has actually lived out its own origin story.
What set us off was an article by Mac Loftin in The Christian Century on “the blasphemy of national Christianity,” and Matthew immediately noticed something striking: instead of talking about Christian nationalism, Loftin flips it. He calls it national Christianity—a theology that sees Christianity as an American identity, gatekeeping the faith as if it began in the U.S. instead of everywhere else.
As Melissa put it, “They’re basically gatekeeping Christianity as a US thing and not as a worldwide thing… although Christianity did not start here, so I don’t understand why they’re claiming they’re the owners of it.”
When Christianity Becomes a National Identity
The article includes examples so blatantly cruel that reading them out loud made the problem obvious. In one case, the editor of the Babylon Bee dismissed the deaths of Catholics in Gaza by saying “they all support Hamas.” Another Christian writer argued American Protestants shouldn’t worry about “ancient communities” in the Middle East at all and doing so would be "anti-American."
“That’s ridiculous,” Melissa said. “You can be both concerned about the world and still be pro-American. It’s not an either-or.”
But what sat underneath these comments was something bigger: the belief that only American Christians count. And, as Matthew pointed out, that belief is always tied to something else—ethnicity.
“Why do we have to keep and make this a white Christian ethnicity?” Melissa asked. “It’s definitely this superiority thing… and almost a belittlement of, oh, you probably don’t have it right.”
The same people who deny that Christians abroad count also deny that Catholics count. Or that Black churches count. Or that anyone outside of their own bubble has anything to teach them.
It’s not just nationalism.
It’s ownership.
From Advent to Pentecost
While reading Loftin’s piece, Matthew kept thinking of Pentecost—the moment the early church formed around a miracle of unity and translation. So he turned next to Rev. W. Benjamin Boswell’s Pentecost sermon.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place,” he read from Acts, “and… they were all filled with the Holy Spirit.”
But what stood out wasn’t the wind or the fire—it was the crowd. “Devout men from every nation under heaven” hearing in their own languages. Inclusion wasn’t symbolic. It was structural.
After reading some commentary on Pentecost, Melissa had another thought to add: Pentecost is the reversal of Babel. Where humanity was scattered, the Spirit gathers. Where language divides, the Spirit bridges.
Melissa admitted, “I really had never thought about Pentecost that deeply until today.” For her, Pentecost was always a one-day event. A Bible story. But Boswell pushes something deeper: if Pentecost is about inclusion, unity, and shared life, then it isn’t something that happened—it’s something that is supposed to be happening now.
“And when he said the purpose of Pentecost is not being fulfilled,” Melissa added, “I was like… what do you mean? It’s an event that’s already happened.”
But by the end of the sermon, and our conversation, it made sense.
Pentecost was never meant to be a moment.
It was meant to be a model.
Scripture, Reinterpretation, and That “New World”
Matthew, as usual, went biblically-deep. He reminded us that Peter quotes the prophet Joel because Pentecost was already foretold. And the early church genuinely believed the “last days” were coming quickly.
But when they didn’t, something familiar happened. “They reinterpreted the scripture to make them fit,” Melissa explained. The new world Jesus preached became a new world Christians postponed. And over time, that reinterpretation reshaped everything from Revelation to modern end-times theology.
Melissa also bristled at the idea that we could claim God’s intention “failed” as Boswell alludes to. “That feels really big for someone like us to claim,” she said. “I don’t think it was a failure on his part… I think it’s just humans and human nature.”
In other words, if Pentecost didn’t unfold the way it was meant to, that’s on us. Not God.
Who Pentecost Is For — and Who the Church Isn’t Including
Throughout the episode, Boswell’s central question echoed: Are we for all flesh or not? He pulls it straight from Joel—“I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh”—and asks the church to take it seriously.
Matthew read this line from Boswell's sermon that resonated with him:
“Peter may have been able to quote from Joel, but he didn’t figure out how to live out the vision of Pentecost.”
If the apostles struggled with inclusion, it’s no wonder modern Christians do too. But Boswell doesn’t let anyone off the hook. He asks:
- Will we vote like we care about Black and brown flesh?
- Will we share our money like we care about Black and brown flesh?
- Will we order our lives as if all flesh is equal?
Matthew connected this directly to last week’s conversation: “Everything you do is political. Your politics inform your theology and your theology informs your politics.”
And if Pentecost is political in the sense of whose humanity we recognize, then American Christianity has a long way to go.
Pentecost as Protest
Boswell’s sermon ends with a fire—and Matthew read the full paragraph because “it’s important.” Boswell argues that Pentecost wasn’t a peaceful worship service. It was a protest:
“The first Pentecost was a protest… against the imperial forces of torture, violence, crucifixion, and death.”
A protest where people who had nothing in common spoke the same truth and stood in the same Spirit.
Melissa summed up the disconnect between that early vision and the modern church in one simple observation: “A lot of churches are still segregated.” Pentecost brought people together. Country-club Christianity keeps them apart.
Matthew tied it back to Paul Tillich, who warned that when a nation becomes the ultimate concern, “all other concerns”—justice, humanity, truth—get sacrificed. And Melissa noted that Christian nationalists think forcing everyone into their version of Christianity will fix all those things. “But they’re going to do the opposite,” she added.
So Where Does That Leave Us?
By the end, we circled back to the same question we began with: Are we actually living out Pentecost? Or are we just retelling the story and ignoring its demands?
Melissa said she always thought Pentecost was “a singular event,” but now sees it differently: “It’s not just a one-day thing… it’s ongoing.”
Maybe that’s the point.
Pentecost wasn’t meant to be remembered.
It was meant to be repeated.
And as Matthew said, quoting Boswell, Pentecost “blows up against any prioritization of one kind of flesh.” In a world where national Christianity insists God looks like one nation, one culture, and one skin tone, maybe the Spirit is still trying to set our assumptions on fire.