Brad Ruggles was already questioning his evangelical beliefs when he was invited to start a small church in a suburb of north Indianapolis. While leading his congregation of over 200 members, he faced struggles with their reluctance to embrace LGBTQ inclusivity and the fallout from George Floyd’s murder.

Ultimately, in 2021, he stepped back from both the church and his faith, but he still yearned for the community spirit he experienced in congregational life. He discovered C3, a welcoming gathering in western Michigan that has reshaped its identity and now presents itself not as a church but as a refuge for those searching for spiritual connection, all while exploring life’s big questions and living out shared values.

“This place is truly unique,” Ruggles stated, now serving as the lead educator at C3, which originally operated as Christ Community Church. “The people here are some of the most open-minded I’ve encountered.”

Groups like C3 highlight how, even as Americans increasingly distance themselves from traditional organized religion, many are still searching for ways to maintain their spiritual and community ties, be it through religious or secular avenues.

These new communities take various forms. Sometimes they meet in physical locations, other times virtually, or simply connect through friendships with like-minded individuals.

The departure from traditional religious institutions has unfolded over several decades: In the early 1990s, 90% of Americans identified as Christian; by last year, that number fell to 63%. Recently, this trend has been particularly pronounced among younger women, breaking past generational patterns.

The decline is especially notable among Protestants, where 60% describe themselves as evangelicals. Meanwhile, the segment of Americans who identify as agnostic, atheist, or “none in particular” has grown to nearly 30%.

According to a 2024 survey by the Pew Research Center, 80% of adults believe that religion’s influence on American life is waning, the highest percentage recorded. This trend is mirrored in actual numbers: The Southern Baptist Convention has seen a drop of over 2 million members since 2006, and a 2019 Pew study estimated that 10 million Christians left the church in the last decade.

In total, around 40 million American adults have ceased attending church over the past 25 years, according to researchers Jim Davis and Michael Graham, authors of “The Great Dechurching: Who’s Leaving, Why Are They Going and What Will It Take to Bring Them Back?”

People leave the church for various reasons. Some were never deeply connected to their faith and find new priorities as they relocate. Others critique the ostentatious nature of church services they view as superficial or struggle with reconciling teachings on issues like reproductive rights or LGBTQ acceptance.

Many find it hard to imagine returning to a church setting. This was true for Ruggles, who has yet to step foot in one again. While some individuals turn to other Christian denominations or more progressive takes on their beliefs, others aim to redefine their Christianity in spaces where they can express doubts without fear of judgment.

For example, the Post Evangelical Collective, which has branches across 14 U.S. cities, includes church leaders, artists, and individuals who feel alienated from mainstream American Christianity.

Similarly, Current Collective in Carlsbad, California, identifies itself as “rooted in the mystic Christian tradition” featuring a theology without dogma. “Our existence and experiences matter more than dogma,” their website states.

Some seek community without religion

Others wish to entirely move away from religion but still desire a community to help them tackle life’s challenges.

“It’s essential for people to have spaces to come together, and communities need these settings for mobilizing and inspiring volunteers,” remarked Nancy Ammerman, professor emerita of religious sociology at Boston University. “There’s no reason that spiritual, nonreligious practices can’t fulfill that need.”

Many are drawn to organizations like Sunday Assembly USA, a community-based group originating from London.

Secular networks now exist in 13 cities across the United States. This emerging movement focuses on celebrating life and, although it was initially influenced by atheism’s rise, it embraces a diverse array of beliefs, according to Ross Llewallyn from Sunday Assembly Atlanta.

“We have a continuous influx of new people who are curious about us because we bring something fresh that many seem to have lost,” Llewallyn stated. He also noted that the number of people wanting to establish new chapters has doubled in recent years.

Tracking the growth of these communities is challenging due to their varied identities and lack of formal networks.

“The landscape of post-religious organizations is incredibly diverse and ever-changing,” explained Christian Smith, a sociology professor at the University of Notre Dame, who is currently writing a book on the decline of traditional religious attachment among younger generations.

The existence of various churches leads to these communities managing their own structures; without strict doctrines, their teachings remain in constant evolution. For the time being, this fluidity is welcomed.

Smith believes these groups have great potential, particularly in the wake of the isolation many faced during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Below are some communities where those feeling unanchored are finding belonging:

Vinings Lake Church ― Mableton, Georgia

Vinings Lake Church, located in Mableton, Georgia, just northwest of Atlanta, emerged from the remnants of Vinings Lake Baptist, a struggling congregation that had been around for 40 years. At one point, they were unable to pay their utility bills due to dwindling numbers.

As leaders were getting ready to close the church and sell the property, they decided to pass it on to the founder of what would later become Vinings Lake Church. This individual was in the midst of a spiritual re-evaluation that led him to step away from the evangelical community.

“He literally removed the letters from the sign out front,” recalled Cody Deese, now the lead pastor at Vinings Lake, which describes itself as “an ever-evolving spiritual collective waking up to beauty, truth, and goodness wherever it can be found.”

Deese, who grew up in a fundamentalist evangelical setting and whose father was a Baptist pastor, transitioned from this background by the time he took over in 2017, where he and his wife supported same-sex marriage. This was around the time Donald Trump was elected president, which he noted “changed everything for everybody.”

As political divisions seeped into the congregation, Deese faced backlash when he invited a Muslim member to discuss Islamophobia; many attendees walked out. The same happened when he introduced a blacksmith to create art from firearms collected through local law enforcement.

However, the significant departure of congregants occurred when he attempted to discuss Christian nationalism.

“If you want to learn how to diminish a church’s size, I’m your go-to person,” Deese joked.

The congregation saw a decline from 800 members to just 100. The church’s budget decreased by $1 million, leading to layoffs. However, Deese remarked that those who remained were more vibrant than ever. “There were no uncertainties; we felt as though we had connected with a broader vision and understanding of what a community could truly represent.”

The current community is comprised of non-believers, agnostics, and those who have become disillusioned with megachurches. Meetings aren’t held weekly, but typical gatherings may include meditation, breathing exercises, music, and readings of scriptures or wisdom from ancient texts and contemporary spiritual thought leaders.

“We strive to remain nonpartisan,” Deese said. “The main difference between us and fundamentalism is this: We recognize that we might be wrong. They were always unshakeably certain.”

Awakenings Movement ― Houston

At Awakenings in Houston, many members come seeking answers about the brand of Christianity they were exposed to, often feeling that their social justice beliefs conflict with the religious teachings they’ve received.

“They’re often just a couple of verses away from discarding everything they have known,” shared Tia Norman, the group’s pastor. “They frequently experience burnout and sense there is something greater, but they struggle to identify what that is.”

Many of them are tired of confiding in previous church leaders about their personal struggles or concerns regarding social issues, only to be met with a Bible verse as a simplistic solution.

“In these settings, it would be helpful if spiritual leaders could occasionally admit, ‘I don’t know,’ acknowledging that not every question has a straightforward answer,” Norman pointed out. “I say that constantly.”

Describing her community, which has been active for 19 years, she highlights it as a nondenominational space focused on openness and acceptance. It’s a setting where individuals can nurture their activist passions alongside prioritizing their own well-being.

“We delve into the links between identity, belief, and justice,” she explained. “How can we utilize Christian teachings to address the divisions present in today’s world?”

Awakenings has around 40 dedicated members. Norman mentioned that although the Bible is frequently cited, individuals from various spiritual backgrounds are welcomed.

Meetings take place weekly online, with one in-person gathering each month. Each session revolves around a unique question raised by different community members, accompanied by times of meditation and insightful stories shared by Norman or other participants.

“Everyone has a narrative that can educate us,” she noted.

Aldea Spiritual Community ― Tucson, Arizona

Many associate the term “church” with strict doctrines and organized faith, but Jake Haber, the leading pastor at Aldea Spiritual Community in Tucson, is striving for something different.

“In our community, there’s no required belief system to join us,” he stated. “The need for connection is a universal aspect of humanity that goes beyond culture and religion. We seek to return to the essence of that desire; we want companionship during both celebrations and times of sorrow.”

This community emerged from a former evangelical church that underwent a protracted and challenging transformation, ultimately establishing itself in 2006 as a socially-conscious community embracing various spiritual paths and inviting “individuals from all life experiences” to join. The term “Aldea,” meaning “village” in Spanish, references both its Sonoran Desert location and its inclusive philosophy.

“A village is where everyone fits in,” Haber, who joined Aldea in 2022, explained. “Unlike traditional church structures that often imply hierarchy and authority, a village is a communal space.”

The focus has shifted from adherence to fixed beliefs towards embracing core values. Some members of the former church have not followed along this path.

On Sundays, gatherings typically feature discussions, music, and meditation, engaging about half of the approximately 150-member community, almost all of whom come from backgrounds in conventional organized religion, according to Haber.

“These are individuals who grew up within more traditional church structures but felt the need for something beyond what they knew,” he reflected. “… Until recently, many believed that if they sought a spiritual community, their only choice was to enter a dogmatic religious structure. Now, they recognize there are alternatives.”

Heartway Church ― Davie, Florida

Danny Prada encourages his community to ponder profound questions. However, he believes the resolution lies within each person, not with him.

“I let people know, this is my perspective, but it’s up to you to find your own answers,” said Prada, who founded Heartway Church in Davie, Florida, about 24 miles north of Miami. “I don’t promise any sort of certainty; instead, I invite everyone to embrace uncertainty.”

Heartway began in 2015 as a church affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention, but as Prada grappled with doubts about denominational beliefs, particularly regarding LGBTQ issues, he faced pushback. Ultimately, the church’s philosophical shift led it to forfeit its SBC funding.

Many individuals have been affected during this journey,” Prada reflected, attributing much of this to his own enthusiasm, naivety, and confrontational stance against the faith he was leaving behind. “I felt compelled to demonstrate that this interpretation of Christianity was incorrect and that another one was valid. Even to this day, numerous people find it challenging to follow the path we pursue, leading them to drift away.”

Heartway is now what Prada describes as “a contemplative community centered on love,” emphasizing Christ’s teachings while also embracing other ways in which God communicates with people.

The outcome is an interfaith community welcoming guest speakers from various backgrounds, including Jewish, Muslim, and Buddhist leaders, as well as representatives from different Christian denominations. Besides the Sunday services and meditative practices, members participate in activities such as “Christian yoga” and sound healing sessions, with Prada’s teachings often integrating texts from Sufism, Hinduism, Zen Buddhism, along with concepts from psychology and science.

He reported that attendance typically ranges from 120 to 140 on Sundays, a figure he considers commendable given the church’s location in the conservative environment of South Florida. This community includes individuals who identify as spiritual but not religious and those who are non-religious, often referred to as “nones.”

Heartway, he noted, serves as “a welcoming space for these individuals to belong and perhaps reconnect with the faith traditions of their past, reaping the benefits they desire without the burdens associated with them.”

C3 Spiritual Community – Grand Haven, Michigan

In Grand Haven, Michigan, which is situated west of Grand Rapids along the shores of Lake Michigan, C3 is described by lead teacher Ruggles as “an ongoing experiment.”

The Sunday gatherings, which attract around 90 attendees, center around a specific topic introduced by a group or guest teacher, followed by community discussions.

This community started as a part of the Reformed Church in America, a network of mainstream Reformed Protestant churches. The split from the RCA occurred in the 1990s when the church allowed a gay organization to utilize office space within the church.

As the community evolved its theological stance – with C3 standing for Christ Community Church – many members departed, but it has now experienced growth among the younger crowd, as noted by executive director Shannon McMaster.

The focus of the community now revolves around what McMaster refers to as 2024 values, which are not based on strict doctrines or scriptures. While drawing substantial inspiration from Christian principles, the speakers represent a wide array of religious traditions.

“C3’s essence lies in how the Sunday gatherings are structured, fostering a spiritual community that encourages individuals to explore their own spiritual journeys without having to do so in isolation,” he explained.

Ruggles emphasized that C3 does not operate as a traditional church, even though members convene on Sunday mornings for music and other church-like activities. There is no pushback against speakers’ messages simply because they might not align with scripture.

“Many people are tired of the direction that Christianity, particularly evangelical Christianity, has taken,” Ruggles commented. “C3 is a movement I’m proud to discuss, unlike the discomfort I felt as a pastor. This represents the future of spirituality in our nation – communities that are creatively discarding outdated practices to embrace a society that is progressing towards a better future.”