Why I Am Protestant

by Beth Felker Jones

Exploring the Strengths and Challenges of the Protestant Tradition

What does it mean to be Protestant? How can its strengths shape faith in the modern world, and how should its challenges be addressed? With clarity, warmth, and theological depth, Beth Felker Jones explores these questions in Why I Am Protestant. This book offers a positive, theologically grounded reflection on both the beauty and complexity of the Protestant tradition, inviting readers into a deeper understanding of the Protestant faith and its place within the broader Christian community.

In Why I Am Protestant,

Demonstrates that Protestant ecclesiology is needed by the churchAddresses critiques of Protestantism head-onProvides theologically grounded reflections on finding joy and spiritual nourishment in her traditionHighlights why Protestant theology is well-suited to addressing modern faith challengesCelebrates the Protestant tradition in both its beauty and its imperfectionsWhy I Am Protestant is a must-read for pastors, theology scholars, and anyone seeking to better understand what it means to be part of the Protestant tradition and to engage with those of other Christian traditions.

About the Series

The Ecumenical Dialogue Series seeks to foster ecumenical dialogue across theological differences. In each volume, contributors explore what it means to be Christian, what it means to identify with a specific tradition in Christianity (Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox), the challenges and benefits of their tradition, and how they can create dialogue and unity across historically tense divisions.

Genres: Theology, Nonfiction, Church, Christianity

160 pages, Paperback

Published September 30, 2025

About the author

Beth Felker Jones teaches theology at Northern Seminary, near Chicago, and loves to write for the church.

Reviews

[Alex Strohschein · Rating 4 out of 5]

IVP Academic's Ecumenical Dialogue series is a fun line of books where three theologians offer their unique case for why they are what they are denominationally. The eminent Roman Catholic theologian Matthew Levering kicked off the series last year with his account of why he is Roman Catholic and he is now joined by Beth Felker Jones' testimony as to why she is Protestant.

As a United Methodist, Jones is interestingly located within the Protestant Mainline while still holding to orthodox doctrine; like another good United Methodist (I'm looking at you, Jason Byassee), she presents her case for Protestantism in a generous, playful way. In contrast to other Christians (especially Catholics but also Protestants from the Magisterial Reformation), Jones downplays church as institution and instead elevates the practice of church (which makes sense, considering she wrote Practicing Christian Doctrine: An Introduction to Thinking and Living Theologically). In this way, she tends to have a more expansive view of acceptable forms of Christianity than other Christians who emphasize propositional truths and correct doctrine. Because she favours practice over institution, Jones believes that it's ecclesiology, rather than a doctrine like justification, which truly divides the Body of Christ (p. 70). Jones sees Protestantism's more variegated ecclesiology as one of its greatest strengths as it has allowed it to be much more nimble. She writes:

I hope we can also imagine very good theological reasons that a local church body might call for local authority and local governance. The history of the demonic welding together of colonial Christianity, imperialism, and slavery could point us in such a direction, regardless of whether our basic ecclesiological sensibilities are more congregationalist or more connectional. While there is no health in disconnecting the local from the universal, the universal church can thrive only if local bodies have the power to attend to, understand, and respond to local cultures, contexts, and needs. interpretation of Scripture is always contextual, while it also serves the church universal.

Today we see the global Church thriving as churches in Africa, Asia, and Latin America moved from missionary control to local leadership...It's no accident that so many of these thriving churches are self-consciously Protestant in countries and contexts that have long had a strong Roman Catholic majority. Protestants and Roman Catholics share the good Gospel of Jesus Christ, but Protestant ecclesiology is better equipped to embrace and empower the goods of locality, culture, and context, for Protestant theology embraced the local and vernacular four hundred years before Roman Catholic theology did the same (p. 64).

For those rigid denominationalists who wish to keep the Church "pure," Jones recalls St. Augustine's struggle with the Donatists (pp. 47-52). The Donatists were a puritanical sect that vehemently rejected those Christians who had caved into state pressure when the Emperor Diocletian persecuted believers in the early 300s AD. The Donatists claimed that the Christians who had given into the authorities could no longer administer valid sacraments but even though Augustine did not approve of Christians wilting during the Diocletian Persecution, he nevertheless insisted that anyone who had done so could still be considered a Christian; Augustine was more appalled that the Donatists would create a schism in the Church, tearing the Body of Christ. Jones cites Augustine's rebuff of Donatism as justification for why Christians of all traditions ought to be generous with one another, even though we may find beliefs or practices among differing traditions that we find less coherent with true Christianity (as Augustine disapproved of the Christians who had handed over the Scriptures as a token sign of repudiation of their faith, I might object to a Roman Catholic's extrabiblical beliefs about Mary or a denomination that holds a different view of baptism than I do but I can still extend my hand in Christian fellowship to them).

One of the most perceptive and rigorous critiques of the Protestant Reformation(s) has come from Catholic historian Brad S. Gregory in his The Unintended Reformation: How a Religious Revolution Secularized Society. Gregory claims that the Protestant Reformations upended the cohesive Western Christian worldview that had been the bedrock of European culture for centuries, thereby unleashing a host of challenges to faith and forever fragmenting culture. In Gregory's telling, Protestantism is the unwitting handmaiden of moral relativism, liberalism, secularism, "the triumph of the therapeutic," and more. Jones interacts with Gregory's work and, in my view, provides one of the most compelling responses to the book's argument:

Gregory offers a gloomy assessment of the rise of social stability over against social morality. He sees a secular society with no room for shared morality. Fragmentation and the relativism that comes with it can make it difficult to find moral consensus, and Gregory is correct that toleration and religious freedom are at odds with the kind of moral community that expects the specific morality of one faith tradition to be adopted and practiced by a whole society; but it seems odd to suggest that the motive to end violence is not itself moral and, more, does not then create and sustain a certain kind of moral community, albeit one that prioritizes peace over unanimity and nonviolence over the authority to impose one moral tradition on a society as a whole. Protestant themes - anticlericalism, the call for believers to read Scripture for themselves, and the priesthood of all believers - are themes for a moral society that prizes consent and peace. Such a moral society has certainly been shaped by biblical morality, even as it refuses coercive efforts to require biblical morality as themselves on biblical and immoral (p. 82).

This series is indeed, more a dialogue, and there are times when I wish Jones spoke a bit more on this or that issue. As a good Protestant, she embraces sola/prima Scriptura but she doesn't make a strong argument for why one should privilege the Bible over the Church (here I am thinking about the classic debate of whether the institutionalized Church decided the canon or if the canon preceded the institutionalized Church). Interestingly, despite being a Wesleyan, Jones confesses to holding a view of the Eucharist that is closer to Martin Luther's materialism than Ulrich Zwingli's symbolism and she spends more time invoking Augustine, Luther, Lamin Sanneh, and Phillip Cary than she does Methodist and Wesleyan luminaries (p. 59).

It is a bit of an unwieldy task to explain "Why I am Protestant" (what has Anglicanism to do with Adventism? what has Presbyterianism to do with Pentecostalism?) so while I am very much looking forward to Why I Am Eastern Orthodox (whose author at the moment is a mystery), I hope IVP will consider a spinoff of this series that narrows in on each of the major streams of Protestantism. In the present book, Beth Felker Jones models generous, joyful ecumenism, graciously grasping the hands of Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox believers while also confidently proclaiming the strengths and gifts that Protestantism offers the Body of Christ, the one, true Church.

[Matthew McBirth · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book started off well AND got better and better with each chapter. I appreciate how BFJ navigated church history and church-present in order to clarify what it means to be Protestant. I walk away from this book, not in a defensive poster towards being Protestant. Nor does this seem to be the goal of the book. Instead, I walk away better able to articulate what Protestantism is and should be at its finest. A Christian tradition with a certainty on the center of Scripture: Jesus. A tradition that recognizes the messy church, and understands that the church is indeed invited into the mission of God, but is not to place itself as infallible interpreter of God and God's mission. For this is reserved for Jesus and the word of God, the council of God's will: the Scriptures.

[Adam Shields · Rating 4 out of 5]

Summary: A short defense of Protestant belief amid a larger ecumenical emphasis. 

I picked up Why I am Protestant in part because I have previously read a systematic theology textbook by Beth Felker Jones and I knew I could trust the book to be worth reading. I do not really need help understanding Protestant theology or an apologetic for being a Protestant, so I was really out of curiosity about what the book was about more than a particular need. This is part of a series by InterVarsity Press about ecclesiology and ecumenism. The series is assuming that Catholic, Orthodox and Protestants are all Christians and that rightly understanding both your own background and the backgrounds of others will help you to be a better Christian.

I cannot think of anything about the structure that I would change. The book opens with a defense of Christianity as a whole, before moving on to the particularity of Protestantism. And I think that is the right framing. We are all Christian, and some of us are Protestants. She then moves to a discussion of ecclesiology (the theology of the church and church structure) which frames the next two chapters on the strengths and weaknesses of the larger Protestant movement. I think looking at both the strengths and weaknesses is important to rightly defending a perspective. One of the problems of the modern apologetics movement (of which this isn't really a part), is that the movement has largely focused on "winning" not exploring or persuading. This book is about exploring the reality of the Protestant world and to do so, we have to include weaknesses as well as strengths.

The next to the last chapter is a defense of diversity and again, I think this is an essential chapter for a book like this. Protestants go badly when we assume that we are the ones that have it right and all others are less than. But at the same time, we would not intentionally hold beliefs that we know to be wrong. Felker Jones gets the balance on that right.

The final chapter is a book on scripture. One of the strengths of the Protestant movement as a whole is a strong emphasis on scripture. I was in a book group this past fall that read a book about the prophets. And the group was mostly made up of Catholic and Episcopal members. As much as the group did include a number of theologically aware members, it also fell into the stereotypes of Catholics members who knew their theology but not their bibles. We need both. Felker Jones picked passages to discuss that were not focused on proving her right as a Protestant, but instead were focused on revealing blind spots that need to be pointed out if we are going to rightly read scripture.

This is a book that I think would make a great book group or Sunday School class discussion. But I also think it does a good job a pushing the reader just a bit. I am strongly ecumenical. But I also need to be reminded that the church is bigger than my little part of it. I overlapped reading this with the audiobook of The Myth of Good Christian Parenting and that reveals many of my biases in my theology. I strongly believe that Christianity is liberatory and anti-hierarchical.

There are other Christians, many of who were the subject of the Myth of Good Christian Parenting who believe the opposite, that Christianity is fundamentally hierarchical and that to oppose dominating hierarchy is to oppose God. With fundamental disagreements like that, it is hard to think we can both claim Christianity. But we can. That doesn't mean that the differences should be papered over or minimized. I think the authors of the Myth of Good Christian Parenting were right to name the theological beliefs that make it more likely that the hierarchical teaching would lead to abuse. That doesn't mean that all who believe in hierarchy are abusive, but there is a chicken and egg problem because there is a correlation if not causation. We just can't answer whether those who are likely to abuse are drawn to hierarchical teaching or are those who are taught hierarchical teaching are more likely to abuse because of the teaching.

My point here isn't to move into a discussion of the Myth of Good Christian Parenting, but to note that regardless of who you are and what your theological leanings are, there are people who are also Christian who disagree with that position. And we need to be reminded of the long history of ecumenical focus. Felker Jones rightly notes that Augustine in his strong opposition to the Donatists, still believed that the Donatists should be considered Christians even if they were teaching what he thought was heresy. The very nature of Christianity means that we need to affirm the Christian-ness of those who disagree with us, even when they are teaching things that we think are harmful (like teaching abusive practices as a requirement for Christian parents.) That doesn't mean we should stop pointing out the problems. But we should do it from a position of affirming their Christianity.

This was originally posted on my blog at https://bookwi.se/protestant/

[Gino · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Why I Am Protestant, Dr. Beth Felker Jones offers us an honest and thoughtful reflection on her own faith and its Protestant shape. This book is absolutely filled with wisdom and insight from someone who does not shy away from naming the difficulties and the joys of the Protestant faith.

Dr. Jones' description of catholicity, as well as her thoughts on the perspicuity of Scripture, are so helpful and beautifully stated. I won't offer any spoilers, but this book has many insights and winsome comments that keep you both turning the pages and smiling with delight. (The footnote on page 125, for example, made me giggle out loud).

But do not misunderstand me, while this book is a delight to read, it is rich in its theological and historical depth. For example, in wrestling with some of the difficulties of Protestantism, Dr. Jones astutley points out:

"Yes, Protestantism suffers from individualism, fragmentation, and related problems with authority, but I'm convinced neither that Protestantism is the cause of those problems nor that said problems are inbuilt to Protestantism in a way that makes Protestant faith untenable. These are characteristics not of Protestantism but of modernity, their sway over Protestant faith less the natural result of that faith than a sign of the times and their rise a phenomenon that began well before Luther's theses went up on that Wittenberg door and that would have ripened had Luther never existed. Protestantism did not cause modernity, nor did modernity cause Protestantism. Modernity was coming, Luther or no, and it touches every church tradition, including Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Eastern Orthodox, for good and for ill. It is the task of the whole church, including the Protestant, to learn from modernity where it is good and to challenge it, witnessing to another way, where it is evil. If we are coming now to dwell in the postmodern, the same will be true." (80-81)

Dr. Jones is so skilled at explaining theological insight and crafting words that it is hard for me to imagine anyone not enjoying this book (even if you may disagree). I found this extremely helpful and highly recommend it for your reading.

[Grace -thewritebooks]

Thank you to NetGalley and IVP Academic for an eARC in exchange for an honest review

I don't often read theological literature, often finding myself quickly out of my depth or struggling to press onwards, so this book was a pleasant surprise.
I also harbour a soft spot for church history and looking at how different branches of the church have come to be, and Felker Jones did an admirable job of weaving explanations of historical events into a broader discussions of church unity. I learnt a lot more about Augustine and Luther, and feel renewed in my commitment to delve a little deeper into these topics!
And from a personal angle, I find myself in between churches at the moment and this was an encouraging reminder that the world wide church, although broken and complicated, is full of the joy of the Lord and has so much to offer.

[Claire Bowers-Dingus · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great commentary on why Protestantism is a viable option. In an age where many of my peers are leaving the modern American church due to irreverence and shallowness, we need a grounding, Scripture-based encouragement like this. The Church history isn’t only relegated to Catholics; Protestants have much to say throughout the ages.

[Xavier Tan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have not read Matthew Levering's Why I am Roman Catholic, so I am unfortunately unable to evaluate this book in its context as part of an ecumenical dialogue series. Nevertheless, taking this book on its own terms, Beth Felker Jones paints a picture of Protestant thought that is grounded and fair (a good portion of the book is her recognising the flaws in Protestantism), while remaining hopeful and pastoral. If I were to boil down the actual arguments she mounts, I think it would boil down to: 1) Protestants are best-placed to recognise the catholicity and universality of the church; and 2) Protestants better emphasise grace and the primacy of God in acting. The second is not exactly an argument against non-Protestant traditions, and thus the argumentative value of this book basically hangs on the former. I thus would not recommend this book for one seeking an intellectual or robust defence of Protestantism (especially contra. other traditions) – I think that person would be better served reading the Reformers or Ortlund's What It Means to Be Protestant: The Case for an Always-Reforming Church. Nevertheless, in the span of 141 pages, Jones' writing allows one to feel yearning and hope for catholicity and unity, grounded in Christ, and the sense that God is not done with the church catholic. Through the pages, one sees her mourn for the divided church, yet have faith that in Christ, the church is never truly divided. What a hopeful picture! Indeed, come Lord Jesus, and gather Your one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church!

Summary

Jones begins with a chapter on why she is Christian, going through the early ecumenical councils and the Trinity and linking it to beauty and truth (pp 9-15), followed by the good news (gospel) that God Himself emptied Himself for our sake, held our sin on the cross, and was resurrected that in the resurrection we may be united with Jesus in a new life (pp 15-19). She next explains why she is Protestant: it is able to "embrace the unity and catholicity of the actual historic church" (contra.the Roman Catholic claim to be the catholic church) (pp 23-29), it is orthodox in that it humbly recognises "human sinfulness and the clear requirement that orthodoxy must be based in revealed Scripture and not on human-made traditions of the church" (pp 29-32), and it insists, against the backdrop of medieval clericalism, that "Salvation is sheer gift; it comes to us by grace
alone, through faith alone, because of Christ alone." (pp 32-35) Jones then links the two together: setting out three ways Protestant thought helps her be a Christian:

"First, Protestantism claims the promise of God that we may know God, despite the brokenness of the church. Second, Protestantism encourages an intimacy with and trust in Scripture as the revelation of God and insists that the church of Protestant faith lives by the God of the Word, not by the church's institutions. Finally, Protestantis1n takes seriously the anti-Donatist theology of the church advanced by Augustine of Hippo, a theology that reminds us that church is church because of God and not because of us. These three things let me live in the mess and difficulty of a church that is not (yet) what God intends it to be." (p 39)

The first two points are quite clear; I found the third point the most curious (this is certainly the first time I have heard this takeaway from the donatist controversy): Jones submits that, alongside legitimising the use of imperial force against the Donatists and trying to maintain institutional unity, Augustine also had to wrestle with a practical question: "Could God be at work among the hated Donatists?" Augustine eventually came to the conclusion that baptisms administered in the Donatist churches were still valid, because "Whatever is important about baptism is about the work of the Holy Spirit and not the human church leaders where the baptism occurs. Whatever makes the church the church is od's work and not ours. Whatever matters in what the church does matters because of the grace of God and not because of the validity or purity of the human beings involved." (p 50) Thus Jones opines that saying something like "My church has the gifts of God, and yours does not" or "My church is the holy one" "lead[s] to a kind of Donatism, to a purist and so works-based ecclesiology" (p 52).

This does not mean, however, that Protestants do not care about visible unity. "Luther located the visible unity of the church in faithful Christian practice" (p 55), that is, faithful gospel preaching and in the sacraments – "Where the church faithfully preaches, baptizes, and feeds, there church unity is found, whether the church is institutionally Roman Catholic, Protestant, Eastern Orthodox, or something else." (p 56) The English Reformers also helpfully articulated church unity by using "the metaphor of one tree with many branches": "Jesus is [the] root, and the churchly rightly and naturally branches out into different parts of the world, different areas of need. Here the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Protestant traditions are all healthy branches of one tree, nourished by their living unity with Jesus Christ." (p 61) Jones suggests that "Not only is Protestant ecclesiology more adequate to naming the sin of the church [that is, its brokenness,] than is Roman Catholic ecclesiology, but it is more adequate to the good of the gospel, in which grace overflows into works for the sake of the world God loves. If the gospel is the gospel of grace, we need an ecclesiology of grace. There is no ecclesiology of grace without an ecclesiology that is unflinchingly honest about brokenness." (p 70)

In her last two substantive chapters, Jones evaluates the difficulties and strengths of Protestantism. Beginning with the former, Jones recognises that individualism has been growing in the West since the Reformation and has also "left indelible marks on [Western] Protestant faith" (p 74), and this leads to "fragmentation of the church" (p 76) (she notes also splinter groups that claim to be Catholic though Roman Catholics refuse them, just as how there are Congregationalist Methodists who embrace something Jones (as a Methodist) understands as fundamentally alien to Methodist identity (p 76)). Jones mourns this, and she returns to this in her final chapter with a reflection that mainly revolves around Ephesians 2. There is also the impression of confessing sola scriptura leading to interpretive anarchy, though Jones recognises that it is not the case that Scripture has a lack of total perspicuity – the ecumenical creeds are clear perspicuous articulations of biblical faith, and there are matters in Scripture that are relatively central and clear (pp 96-97). Indeed, Jones submits that this explains why, even though slaveowners argued that Scripture supported slavery, they "understood, at the gut level, enough about the perspicuity of Scripture to decide to work effectively against it [and] withhold the fullness of the Scriptures from the people they enslaved." (p 95) Even if there are propositions that are not clear, "Lack of propositional certainty is not a lack of meeting the Lord of the gospel." (p 97) In the Scriptures, the reader meets God and knows Him not as a set of facts but as a character, one which they learn, from Scripture, to be trustworthy.

As for its strengths, Protestantism highlights the grace of God and the "marvelous exchange, in which Christ takes all that is ours, including our sin, and graces us with all that is his, including his righteousness." (p 104) This in turn highlights the character of God – "the story of grace recounts the faithfulness of Jesus Christ, in whom our trust is safely placed, in whom we may share the status of children and heirs." (p 108) Protestants are also better placed to reject clericalism and hierarchical church control of the means of grace due to "the impulse of the gospel of grace", "claim[ing] the fruiting of the gracious truth that every human is created in the image of God", thereby rejecting "patriarchy, misogyny, racism, nationalism, and the politics of power." (pp 110-111)

Jones ends her book with two chapters expressing her hope for Christian unity in diversity, and her faith that even though we may seem divided, if Jesus is the basis of Christian unity, then Christians (though in different institutions) cannot be said to be "truly divided" – "Even though we persist in dividing our tables, those tables persist in uniting us with the one Lord Jesus Christ. I find tremendous hope in the one who presides at one table, shared by Eastern Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Protestant, and all Christians." (p 119) She ends by reflecting on Eph 2:11-22 and the unity in Christ that Paul beautifully paints, 2 Tim 3:10-17 and the power of Scripture, and the Magnificat in Luke 1:46-55 on God doing the seemingly impossible. As I assume most of my readers are Protestant (and therefore the third would be the most foreign, especially contra. Roman Catholics), I end with a portion of Jone's reflection on Mary:

"When "we receive Mary's story as our own," we are brought into the dynamics of mystery that are always there when we try to understand how God works in human lives. [... Gaventa elaborates:] We take in her confidence that truly all things are possible with God. This way of putting things coheres with Luke's larger story, precisely because Luke does not show us human beings setting out to find God—to be better and better disciples—but God reaching for human beings. By identifying Mary as our Mother, we do not so much elevate Mary as recognize in her story the fundamental Lukan claim that nothing will be impossible with God, not even our consent to God's will. [...] In Mary, Luther sees a revelation of salvation by grace alone, faith alone, Christ alone. Luther invites us, in this faith, to become one, with the incarnate Jesus, to "make his birth your own ... rid yourself of your birth and receive, instead, his." He continues, "By this token, you sit assuredly in the Virgin Mary's lap and are her dear child."" (pp 137-138)

Indeed, all things are possible with God, even overcoming the seemingly impossible differences that currently separate Christian traditions. Yet we can continue to hope in Christ and God's mighty work and His faithfulness, and look forward to the day when we can break bread and share the cup at the same table. Until then, we continue to receive Mary's story as our own, and trust in God's business of doing the impossible.

[Robert D. Cornwall · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was born and raised Protestant. In fact, during my childhood, the official name of the church of my birth was the Protestant Episcopal Church of America. Later on, the word Protestant was dropped, but it remains Protestant. I'm still Protestant, though I sometimes wonder what it is I'm protesting. What is true about churches that are considered Protestant is that we're not all on the same page. After all, Protestantism runs the gamut from Pentecostal to Episcopal. Some are creedal and some are not. Some baptize by immersion on profession of faith, while others baptize infants with much less water. That said, the churches that live under the Protestant label have roots that go back to the Reformation, even if that connection is rather indirect. To say we are Protestant may come down to not being Roman Catholic (we're not protesting against Eastern Orthodoxy).

Having placed myself in the category of being a Protestant, I now approach Beth Felker Jones' book, Why I Am Protestant. This book is one of three in a series from IVP Academic, the other two being written by a Roman Catholic and an Orthodox representative. I've not read the other two in this ecumenical series, but having read Jones' book, I'm intrigued to read the others. As to the identity of the author of this book, Beth Felker Jones holds a PhD in theology from Duke University and teaches theology at Northern Seminary. She is, by choice, a United Methodist. While she respects the Roman Catholic and Orthodox traditions, she is a fully committed Protestant.

Jones acknowledges that "this book doesn't provide a comprehensive account of Protestantism, whether historically, theologically, or globally." Nevertheless, it does narrate her "own way of sorting through some key theological matters of Protestant Christian faith and life" (p. 3). One should not expect a comprehensive look at Protestantism in a book of 141 pages, but Jones does an excellent job of laying out the basic foundations of this tradition, always keeping in mind other Christian traditions.

The first chapter is titled "Why I Am a Christian." I am assuming that each of the three books in the Ecumenical series begins in the same way. This is an appropriate place to start, since no matter what tradition one hails from, they (we) are first of all Christians and then members of our tradition. This chapter does give Jones the opportunity to tell her own faith story. She narrates some of the basic foundations of the Christian faith, which are shared more broadly across traditions, such as the doctrine of the Trinity and the Chalcedonian position on Jesus.

While she is first and foremost a Christian, something she shares with other non-Protestant traditions, she is also more particularly a Protestant, which is the subject of the second chapter. Here she notes that some in her family and friendship circles have left Protestantism for Roman Catholicism. However, she remains firmly within Protestantism. She understands the frustration some feel about difficulties with interpreting scripture and concerns about religious authority. Nevertheless, she remains convinced that, at least for her, the Protestant way is best. She suggests that she is Protestant because she is catholic, that is, as a Protestant, she is part of the universal church. She is also orthodox as a Protestant, for it offers a way of being in right relationship with God. She is also Protestant because the tradition is Reformed. That is, it is rooted in a tradition of reform that includes the five solas that "testify to the heart of Protestantism, calling the church away from human sin and error and back to God alone" (p. 33). She concludes her chapter with this statement: "I am convinced that Protestant Christianity offers the most faithful and livable way for the church to follow its call to catholicity, orthodoxy, and reformed faith" (p. 35).

Chapter three is titled "How Protestantism Helps Me Be Christian." Among the elements of Protestantism that she finds meaningful is the way it allows her to know God in a sinful world, especially through scripture, which reveals God's goodness, truth, and beauty in the midst of the brokenness of the church. One of the reasons Jones embraces the Protestant faith is that, in its fragmented state, it does admit to being broken and imperfect. She finds this to be a good thing. She also finds within the Protestant tradition's emphasis on scripture a path to intimacy with God. She also appreciates Protestant ecclesiology (though some might question whether there is such a thing) because of its diversity. Here she draws upon Augustine, especially his works on the challenge of Donatism. What she finds helpful in Augustine isn't his contempt for Donatism or his dislike of institutional division. Rather, it is to be "found in his insight into the work of grace, even in a church he deemed theologically disastrous." In what way did he do that? In recognizing that God could be at work even among the Donatists (p. 49). Thus, she appreciates an ecclesiology of grace rather than one that is institutionally focused.

In chapter four, Jones returns to the question of "Doing Church." In this chapter, she makes use of the idea of "branch ecclesiology," a perspective that has roots in Anglicanism. In using this concept, she speaks of the diversity of ecclesiologies within the larger church. Here again, she addresses the way the church exists, contrasting the Catholic institutionalism with Luther's vision of the church as action. The focus is on what the church does, such as preaching the gospel, not its institutional dimensions. Again, she focuses on the idea of unity in diversity, using the branch theory. Thus, unity is found not in the branches but in the root, which is Jesus. She writes that "Branch ecclesiology helps us to imagine a church that is both universal and local, one that draws its vitality from living connection with the one root, the Jesus of the Gospel" (p. 65). Ultimately, she embraces an ecclesiology that counts every church as a church.

While Jones is fully committed to the Protestant principle, she acknowledges "The Difficulties of Protestantism" (Chapter 5). She writes, rightly, that every tradition has its strengths and weaknesses. The weaknesses present in Protestantism include its tendency toward individualism, fragmentation, and the nature of authority. The first two are fairly obvious. As for the third, that of authority, it is a bit more complex. The authority of scripture is generally affirmed (sola scriptura), but even here, there are questions as to how scripture represents God's voice due to competing interpretations of Scripture. While these are problems, there are strengths as well, including the possibility of religious toleration and religious freedom. Thus, despite its messiness, sola scriptura has its benefits. In part, this is due to the recognition that the church itself is not perfect as an authority. Ultimately, there is the possibility of a peaceful pluralism of traditions, which can prove valuable.

While Protestantism has its weaknesses, in chapter six, Jones speaks of "The Peculiar Strengths of Protestantism." For Jones, one of the reasons for staying is that the Protestant tradition has proven to be a loving home. This is due to several elements of the tradition, beginning with "Gratia" or Grace. Again, she looks back to Augustine for help, recognizing that Luther, among others, looked to Augustine's emphasis on grace as helpful in the reform effort. Thus, Protestantism privileges grace as foundational. While the church is good and God chooses to work through it, it is broken. Thus, it is God's grace that sustains us in the midst of this brokenness. She points to the unity of the baptismal font and Lord's table as signs of that graciousness (though we still struggle with the Table).

The penultimate chapter is titled "Hopes for Christian Unity in Diversity" (Chapter 8). Having acknowledged that fragmentation is one of Protestantism's weaknesses, she also affirms its allowance for diversity. So, how do we find unity in the midst of this diversity? Here she speaks of the "One Font, One Table." I agree that the baptismal waters and the bread of heaven are central signs of the church, but I'm a little less sanguine when it comes to the oneness that exists within our churches. Nevertheless, there are commonalities among Protestants when it comes to these two sacraments. She also speaks of Protestantism representing a global faith, such that we are a diverse people. That again is true. It is becoming more diverse as new forms emerge, as local branches emerge that represent more contextual versions of the one faith. There is the possibility of flexibility here, which is a good thing. Thus, contextual diversity represents God's love of different contexts. Ultimately, the final healing will not take place until we are "gathered around the thrown of the Lamb" (p. 124).

The final chapter lifts up three scriptural passages that Jones believes can prove valuable to Protestantism. They may not be the ones everyone would expect. Her suggestions include Ephesians 2:11-22 (breaking down dividing walls); 2 Timothy 3:10-177 (the one about the inspiration of Scripture); and Luke 1:46-55 (the Magnificat of Mary). I will let readers see why she chose these three, none of which speak to justification by grace through faith.

Beth Felker Jones, an admitted theology nerd and committed Protestant, invites readers to consider the strengths and weaknesses of the Protestant branch (branches) of the Christian faith. She offers a respectful view of other options, but finds that at least for her, Protestantism best represents her understanding of the Christian faith. As a Protestant myself, I largely resonated with her picture, though I might have questions at points. If you are not a Protestant but wondering what these folks, admittedly a very diverse lot, believe, then you will find in Why I Am a Protestant a helpful guide.

[Aaron Mead · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I began my studies at Fuller Theological Seminary in 2001, I was hungry for theology. But not all theology.

Like a good Protestant, the Reformation “solas” had seeped inside me—those rhetorically powerful principles at the heart of Protestant faith: sola gratia (“grace alone”), sola fide (“faith alone”), solus Christus (“Christ alone”), sola scriptura (“Scripture alone”), and soli Deo gloria (“to the glory of God alone”).

Perhaps predictably, then, the real theological action, for me, was with Jesus and my relationship to him: What, exactly, can we know about Jesus? Is he divine? What exactly is faith, and how do we come by it? What is the nature of salvation? To put it in theological terms, I hungered for Christology (the theology of Christ) and soteriology (the theology of salvation). The answers, of course, were to be gleaned from Scripture, so I was also desperate to study the Bible.

What I had little taste for was ecclesiology, the theology of the church. Its questions—What constitutes the church? What is church unity? What is the nature of the sacraments?—struck me as unsexy, unimportant, or dead easy to answer. Again, my theological taste was predictably Protestant: sola ecclesia was not one of the Reformers’ principles.

However, as I’ve grown older, my theological interests have almost inverted. I find myself more often pondering questions of ecclesiology than any other sub-discipline. Perhaps it’s that I’ve settled my other views, but the questions of what makes for church have taken on new import.

Indeed, they became downright practical several years ago when my wife and I decided to join a different church in a different denomination. “What do I think about the nature of the church and faithful Christian worship?” The questions now felt urgent.

Beth Felker Jones’s beautifully-written and insightful new book, Why I Am Protestant, has helped me plunge still deeper into the questions of ecclesiology. It answered questions I didn’t know I had and generated new ones I’m now wrestling with. I’ll focus, here, on the new ones.

My wrestling in no way impugns the book, even where I diverge from its views. Quite the opposite: for me, the highest praise I can offer is that a book of theology taught me things and made me think. Why I Am Protestant did this in spades.

Maybe the most pressing ecclesiological question for Protestants should be about church unity. The unity of his disciples was important to Jesus: not once, not twice, but three times in the upper room discourse Jesus prays that we would be “one” (John 17:11, 17:21, and 17:22-23).

And, of course, since the beginning, Reformers like Martin Luther, whose work would ultimately produce the Protestant church, were labeled schismatics, those who broke away from the church and destroyed its unity. How can Protestants answer this charge?

According to Felker Jones, we need not understand church unity in the way the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches understand it—as a unity of church institutions. She points to two other models available to Protestants: Martin Luther’s idea of unity as “faithful practice” and the notion of “branch ecclesiology” from the English Reformation.

According to the first idea, what constitutes church unity is faithful Christian practice. As Felker Jones puts it,

“For Luther, the most important practices of the church were proclamation of the gospel and administration of the sacraments. He argued that the Roman Catholic Church had broken the unity of the body by failing to preach the gospel of grace and failing to faithfully administer the sacraments as sacraments of grace.”

Luther’s idea is that where the church shares in faithful practice, the church exhibits unity.

According to the second idea, branch ecclesiology, the church is like a tree that naturally grows different branches over time, some of them Eastern Orthodox, some of them Roman Catholic, some of them Protestant, etc., with Jesus at the root of them all.

“It seems right that the many branches of the one church should grow out into the world in ways that fit context. This one goes north, that one south. This one needs special nurture because its context is hostile. That one flowers in the abundant sun. All the branches connected to the root will bear fruit. All are alive only because they draw from the one trunk and rely on one solid root system.”

On this picture, church unity is the historical unity of a living organism, a tree that grows many branches, a body with many parts, each of them vital to the health and activity of the organism.

As I’ve reflected on these three models—institutional unity, the unity of faithful practice, and the unity of an organism over time—I find myself wondering if any of them represents the kind of unity John’s Jesus had in mind for his disciples. Consider the unity of the early believers in Acts 2:44-46:

“All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts. . .”

While this portrait of unity may seem overly ideal and impossible to achieve for what is now a global church, it does make me think church unity has more to do with warm, generous, lovings relationships, than with institutional continuity, gospel proclamation, or common history. This is not to say the ideas captured by the three models are unimportant; they just don’t seem like biblical unity.

If I’m right, then perhaps the most honest thing to say is that the church, in virtually all of its forms, has ruptured repeatedly across history, leaving an obvious trail of disunity—along with many instances of localized unity. This goes for Martin Luther’s movement, but also for Roman Catholics in their response to Luther, and for both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches in their historical split, among many other examples.

On this view, unity is an ideal difficult to achieve for sinful believers in a sinful world, and perfect unity may well be impossible. But, in the spirit of Luther, I would want to affirm the priority of faithful practice over unity, even while affirming both as important.

If my understanding of faithful practice requires that I break the relational unity of the church, then so be it. As the divisive nature of Jesus’ own ministry suggests, faithfulness to the gospel is just more important than unity with all of God’s people. I hope I wouldn’t take such a decision lightly—and I don’t think Luther or the other Reformers did—but there I would stand. I could do no other.

All this talk of “faithful practice” might leave one wondering what the measure of such practice is. As a Protestant, I’m inclined to say, “sola scriptura.” But, of course, Scripture isn’t self-interpreting.

In the second-century, Marcion thought the God of the Hebrew Bible was entirely distinct from the God of the New Testament. He affirmed the authority of Scripture, in some sense—albeit a New Testament canon reduced to ten of Paul’s letters and a shrunken version of Luke’s Gospel. It’s just that the way he read Scripture was eventually declared heretical.

Cases like these seem to cry out for an interpretive tradition to guide our Bible reading. As Felker Jones describes, a common Roman Catholic complaint about sola scriptura is that it leads into a “jungle of incompatible truth claims . . . with no foreseeable likelihood of resolution.” Without an established tradition of interpretation, goes the complaint, we have nothing to say to Marcion. We are left to fight endlessly over the correct reading of Scripture and, therefore, what makes for faithful practice.

But an interpretive tradition to guide our Bible reading is the very sort of thing the Reformers were at pains to reject. They wanted us to read the Scripture for ourselves, not in Latin but our native tongues, without the mediation of church tradition.

Since my seminary encounter with Marcion, I’ve struggled to reconcile the fact of interpretive diversity with the Reformers’ thought that Scripture is our ultimate theological authority. In Why I Am Protestant, Felker Jones confronts this issue head-on:

“The canon [of Scripture] has a center, about which we can discern enough family resemblance among interpretations to be able to recognize it or at least to object when we fail to do so. In my judgment, that center is reliably identified in the early ecumenical creeds, with a Protestant center extending past the creeds to sola scriptura and sola gratia. . . . As to the edges of the canon, we are free to a diversity of interpretations, . . . and more importantly, we are free to the task of being the kind of body in which that diversity may flourish.”

Her idea, here, is that the central teachings of Scripture are clear and understandable, that the early ecumenical creeds (e.g., the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed), supplemented by two solas of the Reformation, help us identify that center, and that outside the center we should embrace the diversity of interpretation, not rue it.

Felker Jones’s approach, here, is eminently sensible. It certainly gets us to a constrained yet generous way of reading Scripture that cuts through the interpretive “jungle.”

Nevertheless, questions still linger for me. While the creeds supplemented by sola scriptura and sola gratia might solve the interpretive problem spawned by the Reformation, to my mind they still constitute a kind of interpretive tradition at odds with sola scriptura.

Even if we grant, for the sake of argument, that every statement of the creeds comes directly from Scripture (a point some might debate), the creeds necessarily leave out many teachings of Scripture. Indeed, they must if they’re to separate the center from the margins.

But, as we know from modern journalism, what is included and what is left out of a story—even the order in which elements of a story are presented—constitute a “take” on the events being reported, an interpretation. There is no purely objective journalism. Similarly for the creeds: it seems to me they must be a kind of traditional interpretation of the center of Scripture—albeit one amenable to Christians of most stripes.

But if the creeds (supplemented by sola scriptura and sola gratia) still amount to an authoritative tradition of interpretation, then sola scriptura doesn’t belong in that tradition, since part of it’s point is to demote or even reject tradition. Indeed, perhaps the very idea of sola scriptura is at odds with itself: if Scripture alone is authoritative, why trust an extra-Biblical churchly principle like sola scriptura? The principle seems oddly self-defeating.

And yet, and yet . . . the idea of a foundational, authoritative text rings true to me. I’m hopelessly Protestant, despite my inability to make sense of sola scriptura.

Perhaps Alasdair MacIntyre’s notion of a “living tradition” can help us. In After Virtue he writes, “A living tradition then is an historically extended, socially embodied argument, and an argument precisely in part about the goods which constitute that tradition” (p. 222). For MacIntyre, a living tradition just is a self-critical discussion over time—across generations—about what constitutes the tradition.

For Protestants, this historically extended argument might include debate over how to interpret Scripture, including the validity of ideas like sola scriptura that lie at the heart of the tradition. In principle, Protestantism might even throw out sola scriptura, or radically reinterpret it.

But thinking of Protestantism in this way does not entail that we would ditch its core ideas blithely or wholesale, in the style of a Cartesian skeptic. Rather, the self-critical discussion that constitutes our tradition should be slow, careful, communal, and coram deo—done before the face of God, with fear and trembling.

In the end, despite its struggle with the notion of tradition, Protestantism, too, is a tradition with core beliefs and principles, with a (defeasible) claim of authority over the people within it, and with its own fair share of sin and failure.

Perhaps the deep lesson of the Reformation is that such traditions—whether Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, or Protestant—ought always be open to reform. The Protestant slogan, “Reformed and always reforming,” is apt, as Beth Felker Jones’s delightful new book reminds us.

S.D.G.

[Laura Cottongim · Rating 5 out of 5]

I ordered this book immediately as I am already a huge fan of Beth Felker Jones and her book on systematic theology - “Practicing Christian Doctrine”. Like that book, this one was easy to understand but also truly deep. She made me think and there were several portions where I underlined on each page. Beth has us look at the Protestant thought through the lense of unity and she roots her convictions on a deep love and knowledge of scripture and early church teachings. She points out specific Protestant failings and acknowledges the brokenness of the church as a whole. But she also explains the intricacies of Protestant beliefs and teachings and shows her own love for the church as a whole. I would recommend this book to any pastor leading a Protestant church and to any Christian who wants to understand why they believe what they believe in this faith tradition. At one point she draws a beautiful parallel from the Tower of Babel where languages are confused and unity is disintegrated to the day of Pentecost where unity is once again installed. I loved her point that even in that unity at Pentecost where languages once again were together God doesn’t all of a sudden make all languages the same. She says “(at Pentecost) we might have expected God to erase the division between the people of many nations by giving them one tongue: an official language for the people of God. Instead God honors the many tongues and particularities gathered there.” She goes on to say, “The Spirit does not bring unity by erasing difference. The Spirit brings unity by enabling understanding across difference.” This is a needed book in this time and is not disparaging of Catholic or Orthodox Christianity vs Protestant. Well done!

[Andrea Stoeckel · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Is the church essential, G-d's chosen way of working in the world, without which there is no Christian life? Or is the church so broken that it can and sometimes must be treated with the utmost suspicion?"

"Protestantism did not cause modernity; nor did modernity cause Protestantism."

"At the end of the day, I say Protostant because I need G-d"

25 dog eared pages later ;) I have finished this short wonderfully educational book by Dr Fleker Jones. Looking back I kind of wished here was a book like this two times in my life: confirmation and ordination. Of course I would not have understood the premise possibly either time. However I can see how much she loves the Church and doctrine that has spoken to her over her life.

Ecumenism is central in this book: From Donatism to the growing edges of Protestantism today, Felker Jones carefully takes on both sides of the argument trying to make us underatnand where we were and where we are. The Christ of Christianity is carefully spelled out with quotes from (in) famous theologians, both Historical and contemporary. The dicussions with Sanneh Lamin on diversity are extremely important in light of the government issues we are dealing with these days.

In the end, I took stand with Dr Felker Jones. that the beauty of our G-d goes beyond the pessimissim of contemporary life, for G-d is G-d and will prevail. Highly recommended 5/5

[Disclaimer: Although I originally agreed to write the review for the Substack group run by Beth Felker Jones, I chose to purchase and read the book without actively participation in the group. This review is my own thoughts and was not affected in any way by the group or Dr Felker Jones]

[Kelley Mathews · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beth Felker Jones is a gifted thinker and writer, particularly when it comes to theology. Her thoughtful explanation of her own journey in Protestantism as well as its core beliefs and practices, make this book worth reading, sharing, and discussing. As one who moved into Protestantism from a different faith tradition, I appreciated her generosity toward believers who resist the fragmentation and inherent disagreements within the various protestant denominations. Her honesty about the movement's weaknesses is refreshing, as is her warmth toward its strengths. One meaningful quote: "Orthodoxy flows from living in the story of scripture, and it is best fostered and communities committed to the protestant principle, 'scripture alone.' This principle does not mean that Protestants ignore other sources of knowledge of God—including church, tradition, reason, and experience—but those other sources are secondary to Scripture because they are different in kind from Scripture. Scripture is unique, and in it, God reveals righteousness and truth."

Another quote that I appreciated: "if rejecting one authorized interpretation the scripture comes with fragmentation, it also comes with freedom. The right and the good cannot be the right and the good if they are forced, and conscience and consent—even when they are treated as secular goods—could not have been recognized as good without a societal imagination shaped by the canonical scriptures."

I look forward to reading 'Why I am Roman Catholic' to round out my experience with the Ecumenical Dialogue series.

[Edwin Tait · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a thoughtful and generous defense of Protestantism as an equally valid, indeed preferable form of Christianity compared to the more prestigious alternatives of Catholicism and Orthodoxy. As a former Protestant who became Catholic, I naturally disagree with a lot of what Beth argues here. I think a particular weakness of the book is her determination to defend Protestantism as a whole rather than her particular (Methodist) tradition, which I think would have been much more feasible. She's guilty of a certain degree of "motte-and-bailey" argument, I think--making strong claims about the beauty of Protestantism and the fallacy of common arguments against it and then defending a relatively "weak" version of Protestant claims.

However, this book is well worth reading for both Protestants and Catholics. For Protestants, to see a warm and intellectually rich account of how they fit into the broader picture of historic Christianity, one that does not depend on harsh polemic against Catholicism. And for Catholics, to see a Protestant who is neither viciously hostile nor apologetic about her Protestantism give an account of what her faith means to her. My own reaction to the book is that I agree with most of what Beth affirms in it but don't think these affirmations are incompatible with Catholicism. And I hope many Catholic readers would agree with me.

[Shelley Godsey · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a lovely, thoughtful discussion of some of the author's biggest draws towards Protestantism alongside plenty of fondness and respect for Catholicism. As a former Catholic who became Protestant, I thought the book handled the issues with gentle clarity. I was particularly impressed by the open acknowledgement of the many failings of the church over the millennia, and how Protestantism is arguably better able to pivot and adjust to those failings. I also really enjoyed the Anglican picture of the church as a tree with different branches, including Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and more; having differences in our worship doesn't deny our mutual foundation in Jesus but rather points to the beauty of diversity. The book didn't address every minute doctrinal difference but rather painted a broad picture of why the author remains Protestant, allowing for space for discussion and wrestling and prayerful meditation for each individual seeking to follow God to the best of their ability, and the lack of denominational certainty was another grace I really appreciated. This book wasn't heavy handed apologetics but an invitation to further discussion, and I look forward to continuing these discussions with loved ones in the future.

[Dave · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read along with Matthew Leverling's _Why I am Roman Catholic_ , Beth Felker Jones helps to identify the elements that go in to identifying, keeping, or changing one's institutional choice. The book does not candy coat the difficult elements in the choice, or in some cases the choice to not choose and go along with whatever has been decided for generations.

As people are in the middle of deconstruction journeys, assumptions need to be assessed. Am I part of and Evangelical Free Church because of a divine direction, or is it the local iteration of the church up the street from my parents' house 2000 miles away? How many of my ideas are not based on theology, but on what I picked up as I hung around the coffee machine? Beth Felker Jones describes her own path, the ideas that have informed her faith journey, and why she has made her decisions. She leaves room for people to come to other final decisions.
The book is suggested for people who wish to thing about the origins of their faith, for people who are surrounded by people deconstructing, and for people who are identifying if or where they wish to practice their Christian faith.

[Samantha · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully honest

Jones utilizes the comparisons of the Greek Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant distinctions to weave an easily understandable lens to view her reasoning for being a Protestant Christian. She openly admits it's a form of shorthand to make her points while honoring the other denominations that do not fit the terms and also accepting that each is not a monolith. The biggest impact for me was the exposure of the resurgence of the Arian heresy, specifically the Eternal Subordination of the Son (and Holy Spirit), which has been gaining traction since the 1980s. Nicaea dealt with this and seeing it have as much impact as it has in my lifetime is appalling. I greatly appreciate her seriousness against it. Jones does not hide that there are issues within the umbrella that is Protestantism but still shows through Scripture why it is the version of Christianity she holds to.
I am grateful for the nuance, care, and compassion this short book shows Christianity as a whole and isn't a bashing of a different branch of the same tree.

[Michael Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Why I Am Protestant" by Beth Jones is a great read for clarifying what it means to be a Protestant and ways being one affects our lives. Around 140 pages, the book addresses many topics, including:

- The impact of Protestant theology on world missions.

- Ways the issues of individualism, fragmentation, and authority affect Protestantism.

- How modernity can impact Protestantism.

- The relationship between Protestantism and the Bible being the sole authority.

- The supremacy of Christ's authority over each individual believer.

- Christian unity does not mean eliminating biblical diversity in the church.

The book is an interesting read on an important topic, includes a helpful scripture and general index for various topics, and is easy to read and understand. Good read and recommended.

I was given a review copy by IVP in exchange for a fair review and appreciate the opportunity.

[Brian Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book is unique because it’s personal, honest, well-articulated, and thoughtfully considered, while also being very charitable to Christian faith traditions that are not Protestant. I appreciated how Beth made it clear how Protestantism is rooted in the Nicene faith, and how this tradition values and cherishes its historical, theological unity in the apostolic teaching without denying or mourning over the diversity that exists. I appreciate how this book deals with polemical critiques from other traditions without anger or self-righteousness. Rather than trying to “win an argument,” the book feels like you are meeting a friend in a coffee shop, and she is merely presenting how she has come to find a home in the Protestant tradition. I love this calm and down-to-earth approach that does not point fingers or antagonize (as can often be the case with these kinds of conversations).

[Dorothy Greco · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the many things I appreciate about Beth Felker Jones is her ability to take complex theological truths and make them accessible and interesting. Make no mistake: she is an academic and has the credentials to prove it. However, her books are concise and encouraging, which is not always true of academic offerings. Why I Am Protestant goes deep into church history and theology to offer readers a robust understanding of Protestantism.

[Kathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Why I am Protestant?" is an important question to ask. Between conversations with family, co-workers, and even ourselves, do we have an answer for this question? This book is a short but deep, academic, exploration of the topic. I found some intriguing ideas to ponder in this book. It helped me brush up on some theological concepts that I was a bit rusty on. I was grateful for the sensitive handling of our Orthodox and Catholic neighbors. Thank you Dr. Felker Jones.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

“The church is big and weird and wild and wonderful. It is difficult to categorize often resists being slotted into boxes created by sociologists, historians, or theologians. This is part of the very nature and beauty of the church.”

I enjoyed this book. I appreciated reading the history and theology of the Protestant church and what it still matters.

[Joel Wentz · Rating 4 out of 5]

A refreshing, grace-based defense of the Protestant way. Jones' writing is simply wonderful, though this will likely not satisfy those looking for deeper, academic defenses of specific Protestant ideas.

Full video review here: https://youtu.be/kZVWFOLT5Kc

[Tressa · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a helpful read for someone who is left wanting more from the Christian church and the denominations that make it up. I appreciate the graciousness and charity offered, while giving her reasons for sticking it out with the Protestant church in light of all the reasons one could point to for abandoning it altogether. Even if you land somewhere else, these questions are worth considering and engaging with.
Thank you to NetGalley for the digital ARC!

[Josh Hilty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you, Beth Felker Jones, for this book. I especially appreciate your honest assessment of not only the strengths of Protestantism, but also its weaknesses. In an apology for Protestantism, a square look at its weaknesses makes me appreciate the arguments made in the other direction. I am a Protestant pastor. It doesn't take much to convince me of the issues swirling in our churches. Not least the ones spoken of here.

Individualism, fragmentation, and authority are the issues highlighted in chapter 5. This paragraph sums up the way these three snowball and coalesce.

"Individualism and fragmentation are deep problems for Protestant faith, as are the problems with authority that so often come along with individualism and fragmentation. Protestantism insists that it is not the church but Scripture, as the very Word of God, that is the central site of authority for Christian faith. The problem, of course, is that Scripture is not easy to interpret, and having rejected the idea that the church is the trustworthy arbiter of right interpretation, we find ourselves in disagreement about matters of faith and practice. Traditional and individual interpretations compete, and sometimes those differences result in more fragmentation."

While there are also problems with locating authority solely in the Church itself, I appreciate how she forces us to grapple with the underbelly of assuming that each individual person has the ability/authority to interpret Scripture on his/her own. As a pastor who regularly instructs people about the importance of being able to interpret Scripture in its original context, I also want them to hold their own understanding in tension with the truth entrusted to the apostles and handed down through the Church.

I'll leave the more lengthy and academic reviews for others. And I may come back and add more to this once I finish the book. For now, I highly recommend this book to anyone curious about an honest assessment of both the strengths and weaknesses of Protestantism.