Separatism

Just when readers think that the evangelical “four views” genre has covered every possible angle, editors Andy Naselli and Collin Hansen have come up with a book that explores evangelicalism itself. Zondervan’s Four Views on the Spectrum of Evangelicalism succeeds in presenting four engaging essays that describe the range of positions within evangelical thought. But the book leaves readers with a question. Are there really four views, or can they be boiled down to two?

More specifically, are we headed toward a convergence between mainstream fundamentalists and conservative evangelicals?

Sorting out the positions

Kevin Bauder presents mainstream fundamentalism as an idea worth saving, but not a movement worth saving. While many readers within fundamentalism are familiar with his views, the other three authors seemed somewhat surprised by his measured tone and his willingness to critique his own movement. Bauder contrasts his position with hyper-fundamentalism and populist revivalism, which he identifies as “deficient forms of the movement.” Bauder even worries that these two forces are now more prevalent in fundamentalism, with his own position losing influence. But for those who think that mainstream fundamentalism is identical to conservative evangelicalism, Bauder clearly states that it is not. For Bauder, there are still doctrinal differences related to the definition of the gospel, and practical differences related to separation. (Kevin Bauder’s chapter is excerpted as “Defending the Idea of Fundamentalism” in the November/December Baptist Bulletin.)

Al Mohler chose the term confessional evangelicalism to describe his own position in order to emphasize evangelicalism’s doctrinal center. He could have chosen the more popular title “conservative evangelicalism” (and in conversation he acknowledges they refer to the same movement), but the word “conservative” carries its own political baggage. Unlike the two authors who follow him in the book, Mohler wants an evangelicalism with clear, gospel-defined boundaries. His “first level theological issues” sound a lot like “fundamentals,” which he confirmed to me in a later Baptist Bulletin interview. For that matter, Kevin Bauder also affirms that they are talking about the same essential doctrines. But the difference between their two positions remains a matter of discussion.

In 1982 my wife and I planted our first church in Philadelphia – Faith Independent Baptist Church. The long church name seemed awkward back then but I wanted to be sure people knew up front where I stood. Fresh from eight years of ministry training at fundamentalist schools, I was a committed independent, fundamental Baptist. As extra insurance to validate my IFB credentials, I often added “militant and separatist” as well. The church’s doctrinal statement enshrined a dispensational hermeneutic essential for correct interpretation, the pre-tribulational rapture as the next event on the prophetic calendar, and the King James Version as the official translation. As a church we were known more for what we were against than for who we were.

Fast forward to 2011 where in the same city I am now working with a team of elders to plant another church in a spiritual wasteland where we parachuted in with a few families but without a significant core group. After thirty years of church planting I claim no special expertise, offer no guarantees of success, and sense an even greater dependency upon the Lord to build His church. Similar struggles, resistance to the gospel remain.

This one-year-old church is elder led, non-denominational, non-dispensational, and uses the English Standard Version. Much has changed. Most remains the same. I would venture to add that what is essential has not changed. In areas where change has occurred, thirty years of ministry, of study, of relationships, and of experiences have conspired to bring me to the place I am today. For many years IFB was all I knew or cared to know. Now I find myself rarely at home in this fragmented movement of competing networks. I find myself increasingly on the outside looking in. This is my journey, but I’m glad I was not alone.

After planting a church in Philadelphia from 1982-1987 my family and I went to France and then Romania in church planting and pastoral training ministry. Those years spent overseas provided opportunities for fellowship with believers from different horizons and spared me the need to engage in many of the needless conflicts being fought in the States. There was less need to conform to others’ expectations of what it meant to be safely within the fundamentalist orbit.

Once upon a time, a kingdom was attacked by brigands while the King was absent. The brigands captured much of the King’s territory, at least temporarily. Some of the King’s subjects even made peace with the brigands. One band of hardy yeomen, however, determined to defend the kingdom at all costs.

Perceiving (as they thought) that they could not repel all brigands everywhere, they gathered in the heart of the kingdom. If they could not defend the entire kingdom, they would at least protect its heart. They staked out their territory in the heart of the kingdom, and there they erected a fortress from which to hurl stones and shoot arrows at the King’s adversaries.

Their fortress, however, was small and rather rude, while the subjects who had capitulated often dwelt in cities that were passing fair. Many who hated the brigands thought that they could live safely in these cities while occasionally protesting against the invasion. Others hesitated in between, not liking the cities and wanting to fight the brigands, but liking the look of the fortress even less. That is when a few within the fortress shouted, “If you will not come within our walls, then you are the enemy!” And they threw stones at them.

For many years the situation remained thus. Some who lived in the fortress would speak with some who dwelt in the land, but this, too, was hazardous. To be seen speaking to one who was not of the fortress was to risk a stone to the noggin. Those who lived in the fortress could not always tell the difference between a defender of the heart of the kingdom, a capitulator from the cities, and a person of the land who dwelt in neither place.

As the defenders began to erect the second story of the fortress, a few of them created private chambers of their own. Such insisted that their chamber was the entire kingdom, and its builder was the King’s anointed. These builders provoked conflicts with the builders of other rooms and chambers. Not infrequently, they would assassinate their rivals within the fortress. Because the bodies were buried carefully in a deep dungeon, no one thought that they would ever be found.