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“Evangelical” is an Adjective, not a Noun

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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. 

Separating Frames of Evangelicalism

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The different criteria presented by my colleagues themselves represent frames for considering the broader scope of evangelicalism. The frames not only demonstrate the different ways we can consider evangelicalism but also provide some hints as to where changes may be coming.

The first frame I see is present in Peter Enns’ description of evangelicalism as being situated in the wake of the modernist/fundamentalist controversies of the early 20th century. He suggests that evangelicals represented a third way between the extremes. (Back in the 70s, Richard Quebedeaux said that evangelicals were “polite fundamentalists” which struck closer to home that I wished.) As James Davison Hunter suggested in American Evangelicals (1984), evangelicals were dealing with “the quandary of modernity”. How much to engage and how much to maintain distance? Inherent in that quandary is maintaining one’s position relative to the other groups. It raises the possibility that evangelicals wind up defined as “not being the other guys”. But as the other groups move, so too must evangelicalism. Alternatively, there is a vested interest in keeping cultural antagonisms alive that plays identity roles within the evangelical subculture (which is why persecution stories are so important). I’m thinking along the lines that Corwin Schmidt uses when he considers evangelicalism as a categorical group. 

But as Peter observes, the cultural battles of the past are not significant to young evangelicals. They are increasingly savvy culturally, maintain diverse social networks, and find Christian meaning in popular culture. They aren’t afraid of modernists (maybe epistemologically) and are bothered by the Westboro Baptist form of angry fundamentalism. They aren’t defining themselves by evaluating where the others are. They’re looking for an authentic stance. Thus, there is a significant fracture between evangelicals under 30 and those over 50. How that plays out over the next 15 years will be interesting to watch.

The second theme I want to unpack shows up in a couple of the essays. I’ll call this the institutional frame. John Wilson, not surprisingly, sees connections between evangelicals and specific structural forms like Christianity Today. I’d add other institutional structures like the National Association of Evangelicals and the Council for Christian Colleges and Universities, and numerous publishing houses. These become “voices of evangelicalism” in a nearly self-referential way.

The media also shapes how the culture thinks of evangelicals. They do so with little understanding and frequent caricature. When NPR wants to question “evangelical voters” before the Iowa primary, there are no considerations of theological presuppositions (not one of the folks interviewed talked about Bebbington!). Just social issues and anti-Obama rhetoric. Were these folks really evangelical voters or just Republicans who went to church a lot?

A third type of the institutional frame comes out in celebrity infrastructure. Ask the person on the street who the leaders of evangelicalism are, and you’ll get Pat Robertson, James Dobson, Rick Warren, Mark Driscoll, John Piper, Tim Keller, and so on. Evangelicals are those guys who write the books and have the media empires.

But these institutional frames are weaker today than they were a generation ago. Many of the power brokers of bygone years are in or near retirement. Succession issues become real. Just as we moved from a handful of television stations to hundreds of cable channels, the internet has diversified the voices available and increased the critiques of the celebrity leaders. As the social positions of evangelicals (again, especially among the young) begin to shift, so does the media narrative. In an era where it is safe to assume evangelical/Christian voice without assuming dominance of viewpoint, a less institutional and more organic type of evangelicalism is likely to emerge.

A third frame present in the work of my colleagues is theology. I didn’t start here because I’m messing around in someone else’s sandbox. But I really like what Amos Young, John Franke, and Vincent Bacotte attempt to do. There is something valuable about Bebbington’s definitions. But those positions contain the seeds of their own challenges. As Vincent observes, the Biblicism of evangelicalism can become a distortion of sola scriptura that puts a view of scripture above the work of the Spirit. It can lead to a piecemeal battle plan of favorite biblical texts instead of the long story of God as embodied in Christ and attested by the Spirit. I could raise some issues on substitutionary atonement and conversionism, but I’ll hold that for another day.

As John Franke observes, the diversity of theological voices can be the source of Christian unity if it is allowed to be. On the contrary, when it becomes about litmus tests, who should read such and such a book, or whose writing seems a little too contemplative, the voices become a modern Tower of Babel. In an age where being non-religious has less social stigma than any time since early colonial days, such conflict is potentially damaging to the witness of the evangelical church.

So I can look at placing evangelicals in social-historical, institutional, and theological frames with subcategories under each. These differing frames and subframes contain the sources of disquiet that make the future of evangelicalism such an intriguing topic.

Two final thoughts give me hope for that future. First, there is something deeply poignant in John Wilson’s story of his daughter’s religious journey. Evangelicals able to handle diversity in love speak to the best of the movement. Second, in a recent Patheos interview Mark Labberton, the new president of Fuller Theological Seminary (itself an iconic evangelical institution), said “The best of evangelicalism has been centered in Jesus Christ and Trinitarian orthodoxy, not in evangelicalism itself as a movement or a theology.” If evangelicalism maintains its compassion and its humility, it will find ways of significantly engaging the contemporary culture in Kingdom building ways.