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SHALL I CALL MYSELF AN “EVANGELICAL”? Co-opted by a variety of sub-groups within the Christian church, the label “evangelical” is capable of many interpretations today. Some use it to deride people who seem more conservative than they want or believe they ought to be. Others use it to exclude folks who do not wholeheartedly embrace a predetermined, if often debated, list of doctrinal affirmations. Because of what is for many a too-easy marriage between conservative politics and conservative theology, or because of a perceived turn to the (far) right among many evangelicals, still others prefer not to be known as “evangelical” by any definition. In spite of attempts in recent years to demonstrate the variety within evangelicalism, those outside this movement within the church often caricature evangelicals as old-time fundamentalists. Has the term “evangelical” lost its meaning? Should we continue to use the term at all? We asked two self-identified evangelicals—one a United Methodist, the other a Presbyterian; one a local church pastor, the other a seminary professor and administrator—to address this issue. Their responses follow. "EVANGELICAL" AS IDENTITY AND CALL TO RENEWAL Labels identify. On medicine bottles, they are necessary. I am glad my medicine is clearly labeled. Because of a clear label, I know whether it can help me or hurt me. Labels in the church are admittedly somewhat more problematic. As I began in seminary and in my steps toward ordained ministry in the UMC, I decided it was valuable to identify myself in some way other than just as a Methodist (prior to 1968). I felt this need for several reasons: (1) I recognized that Methodism had moved away in many ways from its historic doctrinal roots. In many places the church was either denying or doubting many central tenets of classical Christianity, tenets which I embraced. (2) I also had many friends in conservative churches and I felt the need to identify myself in a way that indicated my common links with them and their faith. (3)1 believed that the future of Methodism lay in the recovery of the historic faith and Wesleyan emphases. I further believed that in order for recovery to happen people with this concern would have to join together to make a difference for renewal in our denomination. So “evangelical” was a word which I felt identified me with my roots as a Christian, with my understanding of Wesleyan faith, and with those in the church who yearned for renewal. It was not, in my circles, associated with fundamentalism, with narrow dogmatism, or with legalistic rigidity, but with an emerging neoevangelical mindset that was open to the modern world, took scholarship seriously, embraced social responsibility, and marked a deliberate move away from the past. It was helpful for me (I will admit a touch of arrogance and naivete in my youth) to see myself separate from much of the prevailing denominational liberalism, yet among evangelicals to see myself as open, irenic, and intellectually credible. As time passed, I become aware of some of the liabilities of the label “evangelical.” It certainly on occasion grouped me with folks I did not agree with in many ways; I did not like the baggage. It probably on occasion caused people to feel separated from me in Methodism, though I did not like that. Its use has sometimes caused me to be pegged with stereotypes that make me very uncomfortable. I became aware of how difficult it is for words to communicate the clarity one intends when those words are selected. And the political implications of using a name which links one with an identifiable group or set of issues also became apparent. I have come to understand more through the years how divisive Christians can be, and how damaging party spirit can be among the people of God. Nevertheless, I have chosen to continue using the “E-word,” in spite of the problems mentioned above. No doubt that is partly due to habit. There are also defensible reasons to continue, however. Any distinctions at all divide. That is part of the function of words. Any name we choose for ourselves will separate us from others. The word ‘Christian” does that, the words ‘United Methodist” do that, as do the words “man” and “woman.” I have decided I cannot get away from the negatives others choose to place on good words. For me, “evangelical” is also a word that helps to start the right discussions. It helps point to central issues of the gospel, to the person and work of Jesus Christ, and it refocuses the church on indispensable biblical truths. And it helps people know who I am; this is also a requirement for good honest discussions in a diverse denomination. Sometimes our reluctance to use labels shows our reluctance to link ourselves with others of common faith, or our reluctance to make up our minds on important issues of truth, or our reluctance to live with the political implications of the things we believe. Labels are inadequate shorthand, but we live in a world where we often need shorthand. They can mislead, but they can also be helpful. When I use the word “evangelical” in the UM connection, I do not intend to be judging others, but distinguishing who I am. It is a statement about what I think is central in the life of the church, about my doctrinal and political commitments. And it speaks of my conviction that biblical faith always leads persons to choose faith in Jesus Christ as the way to life. I am glad the fruit of Wesley’s ministry was called the “Evangelical Revival.” I would be eager for another one to occur in our generation. By Michael Walker,
UM elder and pastor of First United Methodist Church, Irving, Texas.
"EVANGELICAL": PIETISTIC ROOTS, COMMITMENT TO REFORM Is the “evangelical” label still a useful one? Labels are helpful only if they genuinely inform. If the evangelical label ceases to be an informative one, then it ought to be dropped. I am not ready, however, to see this particular label withdrawn from circulation. It still serves a useful purpose. Strictly speaking, of course, it simply denotes a commitment to “the evangel,” the Christian gospel. In that sense all Christian believers are evangelicals. But it is not necessarily a bad thing to use a label with that kind of breadth to refer to a sub-group of Christians. After all, we are all also, strictly speaking, “catholics” and “reformed” and “adventists” and “disciples of Christ.” Recognizing, then, that every Christian has a right to the evangelical label in its broadest application, this is still a label that has come to be identified with a specific Christian movement, and as long as that movement has a discernible identity, the label will continue to be an informative one. I see the evangelical movement as a loose coalition of groups and ministries that have their origins in various branches of Protestant pietism and pietist-type groups. Pietism is a pattern of Christianity that has emphasized the experiential dimensions of the Christian faith. European pietism had its beginnings in a reaction against a highly intellectualized orthodoxy that had come to characterize many Lutheran and Reformed churches in the century or so after the Reformation. Early pietist groups protested what they saw as the intellectualistic excesses of rationalistic orthodoxy, whose fascination with “head knowledge”—to use a favorite pietist labeling scheme—seemed to be crowding out “heart knowledge.” This pietist concern for curbing rationalist tendencies took on a new urgency in the 18th and 19th centuries, when Enlightenment thought made serious inroads into Christian community. This time the battle was not against a dead orthodoxy, but with a live heterodoxy that saw enlightened human reason as the highest standard of truth in the universe. The fundamentalist and evangelical struggles during our own century against “modernist” thought has been a continuation of this struggle. Today’s evangelical movement includes groups whose histories can be directly traced back to these reactions, as well as to other groups—Wesleyans, Pentecostals, sectarian “primitivists,” and others— who emphasize similar experiential motifs. We present-day evangelicals, like the pietists of the past, stress the need for a religion of “the heart.” To be a Christian, properly understood, is to experience the regeneration of the inner self, so that the claims of the gospel are appropriated in a very personal way. To be sure, we also pay close attention to doctrinal formulations. We care about the way people speak theologically about the authority of Scripture, the virgin birth, the atoning work of Christ, and the like. We know that while concern about doctrine can harden into a rigid dogmatism, it can also serve to reinforce a warm piety. If the Christian faith rests in a fundamental way on a heartfelt trust in a Savior, then how we understand the person and work of that Savior—and the authority of the Book that instructs us regarding his redemptive program—is a matter of profound importance. All of this has implications for the way we structure our church life. Two themes stand out in this regard: our strong emphasis on the local fellowship of Christians and our passion for communicating the gospel to the unsaved. These items are understandable, given our pietist heritage. When we have engaged in ecclesiastical battles we have typically been motivated by concerns that relate directly to the vitality of both the local church and the church’s global mission, issues such as: Who gets to train our pastors? And who gets to give direction to the missionary-evangelistic enterprise? Evangelicals have established a variety of “parachurch” institutions and organizations in order to facilitate these cherished activities. We have founded our own seminaries, Bible institutes, mission agencies, evangelistic associations, Bible distribution societies, and the like-and we have seldom done so along strictly denominational lines. We have been concerned that the important tasks of the Christian community get done in the right manner. But “right” here has seldom had to do with the furthering of a specific denominational cause. In our own way, then, we evangelicals have been very ecumenical in our eagerness to form liaisons across denominational lines. In this sense, we too have been a people who love the whole oikos, the entire household of the faithful. To be sure, we have been justifiably suspicious of the “organizational unity” endeavors of those Christians who are fond of inclusivist councils and denominational mergers. But that merely signals a commitment to a different style of ecumenism, one that emphasizes cooperation in common tasks, such as evangelism and mission. Evangelicalism can be rightly criticized for many real shortcomings. The strengths and weaknesses of our movement are closely linked. Our deep commitment to experiential Christianity has often fostered an unhealthy anti-intellectualism. Our commitment to “getting the message out,” combined with our emphasis on the local church, has led to considerable false-witness-bearing toward other Christians: We have often not felt very accountable to Christian groups who have not been immediately visible to us in our local worshipping lives, or who have not had obvious relevance to our evangelistic activities. The awareness of these weaknesses has led some of us to devote much energy to the reform of the evangelical movement. And these efforts are bearing fruit in exciting new efforts in conservative scholarship, and a new evangelical openness to renewal movements that are taking place in other parts of the Body of Christ. The work of evangelical reform must continue, since we have much to learn and much to teach. In his recent book, Evangelicalism and the Future of Christianity (lnterVarsity, 1995), British theologian Alister McGrath argues that evangelicalism is becoming the mainstream force in Christianity. Even if that is too hopeful an assessment, there can be no doubt that the evangelical movement has the potential to serve in new ways for the revitalization of the church in a time when the larger world desperately needs to hear the good news that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. By Richard J.
Mouw, President, Fuller Theological Seminary.
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