“Evangelical” is an Adjective, not a Noun
My story is similar to the one John Wilson told in his post, in that I was introduced to the terms “evangelical” and “evangelicalism” during my freshman year at Wheaton. Prior to that, I simply thought of myself as a Baptist Christian. Thereafter, I ran into “evangelicals” and “evangelicalism” everywhere. “Evangelical” became an all-pervasive noun, seemingly more important than the denominational traditions from which we came. That one was a Methodist or a Presbyterian or a Baptist seemed to matter far less being an Evangelical. Furthermore, some seemed to think (as many still do) that evangelical is basically synonymous with Christian.
So here is my question: Are we evangelicals (a noun), or evangelical Christians (an adjective)? Perhaps it’s time we think of “evangelical” as an adjective—a qualifier nuancing a more central identity: Christian or Christ-follower. Grammar makes a difference.
Using evangelical as a noun—and evangelicalism as a monolithic category—is no longer tenable. So you’re an evangelical. Ok, but what kind? The aptly titled book, The Varieties of American Evangelicalism (edited by Donald Dayton and Robert Johnston) put forward no less than twelve identifiable streams of evangelical identities–and that’s just the American varieties (see Amos Yong’s post). These can be grouped in more encompassing categories, such as Dayton’s three “types”: (1) Protestant/Lutheran, (2) Revivalistic, and (3) Fundamentalist evangelicals. And as others have pointed out, evangelical Christians can be found in traditions outside of Protestantism as well. These categories reflect the diversity of evangelical identities and illustrate the elusiveness of defining the term. Particularly in our post-denominational context, evangelical is a fluid descriptor; believers hop from one church or denomination to another with more frequency than they change their toothpaste brands.
The Jewish sociologist Alan Wolfe has suggested that, due to the “transformation of American religion,” we are all evangelicals now. The pragmatic, reformist, transient impulse that has characterized evangelical movements has become nearly synonymous with American religion itself. Looking into the past, the most inspirational moments in evangelical Christianity have come from their disposition for reform and their passion for transformation.
This is why I find myself resonating in particular with Amos Yong and John Franke when they emphasize the renewal and reformist impulses of the various evangelical streams. That renewal impulse is exactly why evangelicalism will remain a perplexingly variegated concoction of Christians, churches, house communities and collectives, para-churches, social ministries, and educational institutions. No one gets to finally define what the “evangelical” adjective means. It will remain both dynamic and perplexing.
Evangelical Christians come in all sorts and shapes, but the best hope for our collective future lies in emphasizing those things which have been most central to our identity when we have been most unified: i.e., the centrality of Christ for salvation, the authority of Scripture for salvation and the Christian life, the importance of inward transformation and social action, and the hope-filled impulse to share the good news (gospel) that Jesus Christ is Lord through the power of the Spirit.
Lately, I find myself understanding my own religious identity more in terms of the specifics of my Pietist, Baptist, and free-church heritage than in terms of “evangelical” as defining marker (the noun). Within the broad coalitions and families of those who hold share the evangelical adjective, I sense that the Pietist stream of evangelical Christians have a great deal to offer to our collective, efforts toward renewal and reformation. Pietist Christianity is grounded on central orthodox convictions (Trinity, Christ, cross, Scripture) and emphasizes both personal and social transformation (sanctification and mission). Yet, Pietists are known for flexibility of theological exploration and an appreciation for the experiential and relational elements of theological knowledge. These seem necessary for practicing an irenic, inclusive, socially-relevant faith in our present context. An increased role for Pietist expressions or Pietistically-informed streams of evangelical Christianity can greatly benefit the larger project of Christian renewal.
I agree with what I’ve heard most contributors suggest so far in this conversation: we do not need to call for a moratorium on the use of the term evangelical (as Donald Dayton famously suggested). But if we are going to retain or recover a healthy semblance of unity amidst diversity for the future, I wonder if those of us who are prone to thinking of ourselves too often as evangelicals (the noun) should begin to consciously identify rather as evangelical Christians (an adjective) who share a common ethos and a central passion for the Gospel. By the Gospel I mean the story of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God and risen Christ, who is reconciling sinners—and the created order—to God and who invites all believers to join in that project of reconciliation. When that ethos and passion have been the primary characteristics of evangelical Christians, we have been most unified, despite our variety.
This is most helpful. Thank you!
This is most helpful. Thank you!
This is most helpful. Thank you!
This is very interesting, Kyle. Yes, I agree that grammar makes a difference, and that as an adjective, it helps make much more sense of evangelical impulses.. But when you say that "No one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", I wonder how true that statement really is, and to illustrate what I mean, I'll play a bit with some Spivak and Foucault.
The fundamentalist genealogy in which most broadly evangelical communities are usually connected (if not by theological choice, then usually by history) haunts us, in that the basic 'strategic essentialist' (Spivak) impulse within its 'discursive regime' (Foucault) is one of discipline, not only of the discipleship/membership, but of "boundaries" (e.g. the Fundamentals c. 1920s) and punitive measures used to police those boundaries. Perhaps you are right, and that other revisionist and reformist impulses have turned out to function more dominantly in recent generations of evangelical Christians communities, resulting in a expansion of borders and an expanding of our revivalist tents into more diverse 'classes and bands'. Nevertheless, to demarcate religious and theological identity through the strategy of borders and boundaries, and to structure the enforcement of these borders through punitive discipleship measures, is ripe for a kind of prison analysis whereby homo-nationalism is shown to be the political theology of choice.
And so, while "no one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", there are plenty who are quite sure they know what it does not mean, and they are actively out on the perimeter, policing the boundaries, patrolling the borders,and arresting those whose try to cross or pass, but whose identities don't quite fit the adjectival description.
So, yes, grammar matters, but I am not sure that the function of 'evangelical' as an adjective is any more promising then it is as a noun.
Your thoughts?
This is very interesting, Kyle. Yes, I agree that grammar makes a difference, and that as an adjective, it helps make much more sense of evangelical impulses.. But when you say that "No one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", I wonder how true that statement really is, and to illustrate what I mean, I'll play a bit with some Spivak and Foucault.
The fundamentalist genealogy in which most broadly evangelical communities are usually connected (if not by theological choice, then usually by history) haunts us, in that the basic 'strategic essentialist' (Spivak) impulse within its 'discursive regime' (Foucault) is one of discipline, not only of the discipleship/membership, but of "boundaries" (e.g. the Fundamentals c. 1920s) and punitive measures used to police those boundaries. Perhaps you are right, and that other revisionist and reformist impulses have turned out to function more dominantly in recent generations of evangelical Christians communities, resulting in a expansion of borders and an expanding of our revivalist tents into more diverse 'classes and bands'. Nevertheless, to demarcate religious and theological identity through the strategy of borders and boundaries, and to structure the enforcement of these borders through punitive discipleship measures, is ripe for a kind of prison analysis whereby homo-nationalism is shown to be the political theology of choice.
And so, while "no one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", there are plenty who are quite sure they know what it does not mean, and they are actively out on the perimeter, policing the boundaries, patrolling the borders,and arresting those whose try to cross or pass, but whose identities don't quite fit the adjectival description.
So, yes, grammar matters, but I am not sure that the function of 'evangelical' as an adjective is any more promising then it is as a noun.
Your thoughts?
This is very interesting, Kyle. Yes, I agree that grammar makes a difference, and that as an adjective, it helps make much more sense of evangelical impulses.. But when you say that "No one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", I wonder how true that statement really is, and to illustrate what I mean, I'll play a bit with some Spivak and Foucault.
The fundamentalist genealogy in which most broadly evangelical communities are usually connected (if not by theological choice, then usually by history) haunts us, in that the basic 'strategic essentialist' (Spivak) impulse within its 'discursive regime' (Foucault) is one of discipline, not only of the discipleship/membership, but of "boundaries" (e.g. the Fundamentals c. 1920s) and punitive measures used to police those boundaries. Perhaps you are right, and that other revisionist and reformist impulses have turned out to function more dominantly in recent generations of evangelical Christians communities, resulting in a expansion of borders and an expanding of our revivalist tents into more diverse 'classes and bands'. Nevertheless, to demarcate religious and theological identity through the strategy of borders and boundaries, and to structure the enforcement of these borders through punitive discipleship measures, is ripe for a kind of prison analysis whereby homo-nationalism is shown to be the political theology of choice.
And so, while "no one gets to finally define what the "evangelical" adjective means", there are plenty who are quite sure they know what it does not mean, and they are actively out on the perimeter, policing the boundaries, patrolling the borders,and arresting those whose try to cross or pass, but whose identities don't quite fit the adjectival description.
So, yes, grammar matters, but I am not sure that the function of 'evangelical' as an adjective is any more promising then it is as a noun.
Your thoughts?
Thanks for the comment, Silas. Yes, the "policing" tendency is certainly still with us and continues to dog any number of evangelical institutions. What has empowered that tendency, however, has been the false narrative of a single "evangelicalism" (identified with fundamentalism and/or neo-Evangelicalism–Dayton's third type). However, this is why argue I here–as Dayton and others have–for a greater role for Pietism (and, in a parallel fashion, why Yong argues for a greater role for Pentecostalism). If we can continue to disabuse people of the false narrative of a single meaning of "evangelical" then we have a better shot at shaking free of the police. Although, the police are not just individual fundamentalists–all institutions, in particular educational ones, labor under ideological constraints (and perhaps even restraints, to continue the prison analogy.) Further, you are right to point out that just changing use from a noun to an adjective won't solve the problem and won't necessarily set evangelical Christianity free, (the police will still try to determine what the adjective means). So then we have to get out our historical encyclopedias and show how various and rich in meaning "evangelical" as an adjective actually is. And that, it seems to me, is what conversations like this one can accomplish.
Thanks for the comment, Silas. Yes, the "policing" tendency is certainly still with us and continues to dog any number of evangelical institutions. What has empowered that tendency, however, has been the false narrative of a single "evangelicalism" (identified with fundamentalism and/or neo-Evangelicalism–Dayton's third type). However, this is why argue I here–as Dayton and others have–for a greater role for Pietism (and, in a parallel fashion, why Yong argues for a greater role for Pentecostalism). If we can continue to disabuse people of the false narrative of a single meaning of "evangelical" then we have a better shot at shaking free of the police. Although, the police are not just individual fundamentalists–all institutions, in particular educational ones, labor under ideological constraints (and perhaps even restraints, to continue the prison analogy.) Further, you are right to point out that just changing use from a noun to an adjective won't solve the problem and won't necessarily set evangelical Christianity free, (the police will still try to determine what the adjective means). So then we have to get out our historical encyclopedias and show how various and rich in meaning "evangelical" as an adjective actually is. And that, it seems to me, is what conversations like this one can accomplish.
Thanks for the comment, Silas. Yes, the "policing" tendency is certainly still with us and continues to dog any number of evangelical institutions. What has empowered that tendency, however, has been the false narrative of a single "evangelicalism" (identified with fundamentalism and/or neo-Evangelicalism–Dayton's third type). However, this is why argue I here–as Dayton and others have–for a greater role for Pietism (and, in a parallel fashion, why Yong argues for a greater role for Pentecostalism). If we can continue to disabuse people of the false narrative of a single meaning of "evangelical" then we have a better shot at shaking free of the police. Although, the police are not just individual fundamentalists–all institutions, in particular educational ones, labor under ideological constraints (and perhaps even restraints, to continue the prison analogy.) Further, you are right to point out that just changing use from a noun to an adjective won't solve the problem and won't necessarily set evangelical Christianity free, (the police will still try to determine what the adjective means). So then we have to get out our historical encyclopedias and show how various and rich in meaning "evangelical" as an adjective actually is. And that, it seems to me, is what conversations like this one can accomplish.
I prefer "Evangelical Protestant" as a counterpart to "Evangelical Catholics" (who are sometimes a species of Lutheran) for clear description and to avoid the problematic and much resented exclusion of non-Protestant Christians in the generic use of "Christian" and "Evangelical Christian." Unless people want to call an end to the Reformation schisms, I feel it is unfaithful to history and its central role in Christianity not to include implicit reference to the historic divisions that matter greatly to human history and to God if Christ's call to unity is to be taken seriously. For similar reasons I also find it helpful to distinguish between "free church evangelicals" and "confessional" or "post-confessional" "protestant evangelicals."
I have had the odd experience of growing up and living among all these types of evangelicals for most of my life while never embracing their identity and beliefs on points that I eventually realized put me in a pre-Reformation and maybe pre-Nicene category. I've never known how to describe that. Barth and Bonhoeffer suggest some options but they are rather arrogant sounding, which might be fitting. I've always understood "Evangelical" in the popular usage much as Karl G. seems to — old Fundamentalist wine in new bottles, which have been aging badly for some time now. And there I mean "Fundamentalist" in the historic, doctrinal sense, not as an insult word. It it does describe an intellectual position I see as being highly negative, and I know this is how many erstwhile "Evangelicals" also see it. That's one of the most puzzling things about Evangelicals to me. Get a bunch of young, upwardly mobile, and/or well-educated Boomer, Gen-X, or Millenial Evangelicals together and it's a bunch of people who are quite unhappy and in disagreement with the labels, the politics, the doctrine, etc. If they go off and do their own churches the way my parents did in the 70s, they are "emergent" but still (I guess the jury is still out) "evangelicals."
I prefer "Evangelical Protestant" as a counterpart to "Evangelical Catholics" (who are sometimes a species of Lutheran) for clear description and to avoid the problematic and much resented exclusion of non-Protestant Christians in the generic use of "Christian" and "Evangelical Christian." Unless people want to call an end to the Reformation schisms, I feel it is unfaithful to history and its central role in Christianity not to include implicit reference to the historic divisions that matter greatly to human history and to God if Christ's call to unity is to be taken seriously. For similar reasons I also find it helpful to distinguish between "free church evangelicals" and "confessional" or "post-confessional" "protestant evangelicals."
I have had the odd experience of growing up and living among all these types of evangelicals for most of my life while never embracing their identity and beliefs on points that I eventually realized put me in a pre-Reformation and maybe pre-Nicene category. I've never known how to describe that. Barth and Bonhoeffer suggest some options but they are rather arrogant sounding, which might be fitting. I've always understood "Evangelical" in the popular usage much as Karl G. seems to — old Fundamentalist wine in new bottles, which have been aging badly for some time now. And there I mean "Fundamentalist" in the historic, doctrinal sense, not as an insult word. It it does describe an intellectual position I see as being highly negative, and I know this is how many erstwhile "Evangelicals" also see it. That's one of the most puzzling things about Evangelicals to me. Get a bunch of young, upwardly mobile, and/or well-educated Boomer, Gen-X, or Millenial Evangelicals together and it's a bunch of people who are quite unhappy and in disagreement with the labels, the politics, the doctrine, etc. If they go off and do their own churches the way my parents did in the 70s, they are "emergent" but still (I guess the jury is still out) "evangelicals."
I prefer "Evangelical Protestant" as a counterpart to "Evangelical Catholics" (who are sometimes a species of Lutheran) for clear description and to avoid the problematic and much resented exclusion of non-Protestant Christians in the generic use of "Christian" and "Evangelical Christian." Unless people want to call an end to the Reformation schisms, I feel it is unfaithful to history and its central role in Christianity not to include implicit reference to the historic divisions that matter greatly to human history and to God if Christ's call to unity is to be taken seriously. For similar reasons I also find it helpful to distinguish between "free church evangelicals" and "confessional" or "post-confessional" "protestant evangelicals."
I have had the odd experience of growing up and living among all these types of evangelicals for most of my life while never embracing their identity and beliefs on points that I eventually realized put me in a pre-Reformation and maybe pre-Nicene category. I've never known how to describe that. Barth and Bonhoeffer suggest some options but they are rather arrogant sounding, which might be fitting. I've always understood "Evangelical" in the popular usage much as Karl G. seems to — old Fundamentalist wine in new bottles, which have been aging badly for some time now. And there I mean "Fundamentalist" in the historic, doctrinal sense, not as an insult word. It it does describe an intellectual position I see as being highly negative, and I know this is how many erstwhile "Evangelicals" also see it. That's one of the most puzzling things about Evangelicals to me. Get a bunch of young, upwardly mobile, and/or well-educated Boomer, Gen-X, or Millenial Evangelicals together and it's a bunch of people who are quite unhappy and in disagreement with the labels, the politics, the doctrine, etc. If they go off and do their own churches the way my parents did in the 70s, they are "emergent" but still (I guess the jury is still out) "evangelicals."