![]() |
![]() |
Summary for the April 2-7, 2006
Christian Fundamentalism Conference
Hosted by Esalen's Center for Theory and Research (CTR)
Written by Jacob Sherman
IntroductionNo sensitive observer of contemporary events will deny the crucial role that religion plays in shaping our postmodern world both for better and for worse. The once popular notion that, as far as the public arena goes, the major religious traditions are on their last legs—an idea sometimes called the secularization hypothesis—no longer seems credible. Instead of waning, the religious influence in the public is growing, both at home and abroad, presenting us with a new series of opportunities and a new spate of challenges.In order to deal with one of the most powerful of these new challenges, the Esalen Center for Theory and Research, in partnership with TRACK TWO: An Institute for Citizen Diplomacy, has embarked upon a series of conferences convened by Joseph Montville and dealing with the issues of global fundamentalism. Having first considered modern Hindu fundamentalism in December, 2004, and Islamic fundamentalism in September, 2005, CTR turned its attention closer to home when it convened a groundbreaking conference on Christian fundamentalism, April 2-7, 2006. This invitational conference brought together a unique gathering of scholars, ministers, activists, psychologists, and diplomats. The participants were religiously diverse representing a variety of Christian traditions (including evangelicals, Catholics, and liberal Protestants) and including participants from non-Christian and non-religious backgrounds, as well. The presenters assembled for the week included:
Mention should be made of three participants who, at the very last minute, were unable to join us due to sudden medical emergencies within their families.
More than just an academic exercise, the aim of the week was to identify constructive ways to help mitigate the violence that so often accompanies fundamentalistic forms of religion, including Christianity. To that end, three identifiable goals pervaded the week's activities. First, it was necessary to understand what Christian fundamentalism really is. Second, a diagnosis had to be made regarding where and why this movement becomes unhealthy. Third, because the conference aimed at making a real difference, it ended by laying out strategies for engaging Christian fundamentalism in healing dialogues that can help move it from violence to greater wholeness.
Conference SummaryWhat Is Fundamentalism?Most of us think we know what fundamentalism is. The term gets thrown about freely in the media and in popular culture, but as often as not, this popular use of the term is very imprecise. Frequently, it is simply a pejorative—to call something fundamentalist, in this sense, is to label some religious expression or community as being more conservative, extreme, dangerous or irrational than we would like. While Scott Appleby and others have done a great service by laying out a cross-cultural and interreligious phenomenology of fundamentalism, our conference was specifically concerned with Christian fundamentalism, which is a quite specific (and politically powerful) movement within Christianity itself. [1] Barry Hankins, an expert on Christian fundamentalism and church-state relations, began the conference by laying out a detailed historical account of Christian fundamentalism and its impact on the Southern Baptist Convention. A second presentation by Jacob Sherman dovetailed in important ways with Hankins' own account and so, in order to give as clear a definition and history of fundamentalism as possible, I will weave the two presentations together in what follows. Hankins began by emphasizing the need to differentiate (in a way popular culture often fails to) evangelicals and fundamentalists. He joked that an evangelical is anyone who really likes Billy Graham, and a fundamentalist is an evangelical who is angry about something. More seriously, although there is a fair amount of truth in the joke, Hankins described fundamentalism as a late 19th and 20th century Christian reaction to the threat of theological modernism. Throughout the 19th century, as George Marsden has shown, most Anglophone Protestant Christians simply called themselves evangelicals, and this self-identification included the mainline denominations as well as new (holiness and premillennialist) revivalist groups. By the end of the nineteenth century, however, American evangelicalism had begun to polarize sharply between theological liberals and conservatives. Conservative Christians in this period found themselves increasingly troubled by two cultural phenomena. On the one hand, higher criticism imported from Germany had begun to question the integrity of the Scriptures by calling attention to literary techniques that suggested that many of the books of the Old and New Testaments were written far later than tradition had claimed, or by calling into question the presumed authorship of various books within the Bible (so, for example, the higher criticism denied that Moses authored Genesis through Deuteronomy, or more scandalously that a number of the New Testament letters attributed to Paul, such as 1 Timothy, were written by someone else). On the other hand, conservatives were troubled by some of the claims of modern science, particularly Darwin's claims that some saw as threatening or contradicting the Christian belief in God as Creator.[2] The central issue in both of these challenges was the question of authority: where does authority reside for the Christian church? Theological modernists reacted to higher criticism and the challenge of Darwinism by saying that authority ultimately resided in experience. Conservatives, however, felt that the authority of the church resided pre-eminently in her scriptures. As the 19th century drew to a close, the difference between the modernists and their emphasis on experience and the conservatives with their belief in the authority of scripture continued to widen and threatened to break. The pre-history of the fundamentalist movement really gets underway with the extravagant publishing venture of Milton and Lyman Stewart, the millionaire brothers behind Union Oil Company of California (today known as UNOCAL). Between 1910 and 1915, the Stewarts commissioned and published 12 volumes known as The Fundamentals, which defended such positions as the virgin birth and the literal resurrection of Jesus, and attacked the assumptions of higher criticism. The Stewarts financed the project extravagantly so that the volumes could be distributed without charge to every pastor, missionary, theologian, Sunday school superintendent, college professor, and so on, throughout the English speaking world. Three million volumes were distributed in all. This bold and aggressive publishing campaign not only gave its name, but also bequeathed its character to the Fundamentalist movement that arose in its wake, which is why George Marsden describes Fundamentalism as the "militant defense of traditionalist Protestantism."[3] Hankins explained how World War I exasperated the divide within Christianity between theological modernists and the emerging Fundamentalist movement. Though it is not often remembered today, it was theological liberals and progressive Christians who championed the United States' involvement in World War I, while conservative (especially, pre-millennialist) Christians called for restraint. The horrors of the war however, radicalized the positions of everyone involved, and conservatives soon felt that they saw something far more insidious than a merely political conflict. They began to feel that Germany, which had once been the land of Luther, had degenerated under the influence of modernism, into an overly militaristic and Nietzschean nation. Traditionalists argued that even though the United States might win the land war, it was in danger of losing the battle with German culture and so they connected the triumph of theological liberalism (which had its roots in German higher criticism) with the cultural annihilation of America itself. Seven years after the end of the War, in 1925, the divisions within American Christianity finally came to a dramatic head when the Fundamentalists suffered two humiliating public defeats. Over the previous decades, Fundamentalists had chiefly targeted Darwinism and theological modernism. In 1925 they all but lost both of these battles. First, the highly publicized Scopes trial so thoroughly succeeded in caricaturing conservative critics of Darwinism that it continues to exert a powerful hold on the American imagination even today. Second, beyond losing the battle against Darwinian science, Fundamentalists also lost the denominations to theological modernism. Modernists and inclusivists managed a series of strategic elections in major denominations (such as the Presbyterian Church USA) that succeeded in wresting control of institutional structures away from Fundamentalist factions. Thus the defeats of 1925 marked the visible end of a Fundamentalist campaign for American culture, and over the next three decades the movement turned inward and sectarian. Hankins related how one colorful exception to this sectarianism is found in J. Frank Norris (d. 1952), a prominent Fundamentalist pastor who waged an early (but unsuccessful) war for control of the Southern Baptist denomination. Initially, the Fundamentalist movement spread slowly in the South, chiefly because theological modernism was scarcer beneath the Mason-Dixon line and so there wasn't much need for a militant defense of traditional faith. Norris however, whose fiery bravado earned him the nickname "God's rascal", felt that such militancy was a good strategy whether it seemed necessary to others or not. Norris was pastor of two early mega-churches—one in Ft. Worth, TX, the other in Michigan—each numbering about 12,000 parishioners. In his zeal, Norris sought out enemies even when they were scarce or non-existent, and thereby tried to win the Southern Baptists to Fundamentalism. He preached scandalous sermons, for example, against the Catholic mayor of Ft. Worth, making false accusations regularly and publishing them in Norris's own newspaper. His ability to ignite controversy knew no bounds, even to the point of embroiling him in the shooting death (supposedly in self-defense) of D. E. Chipps, a local lumberman who wanted to stop Norris's vilification of the mayor. Norris put four shots from a revolver into Chipps, earning himself a new nickname: "the pistol-packing pastor from Ft. Worth." Hankins recounted these vignettes because Norris was, perhaps oddly, ahead of his time and now appears a stereotypical (if overblown) Fundamentalist in many ways. Norris tried to make Southern Baptist preachers look like they were theological modernists—a divide and conquer straw-man technique that contemporary fundamentalistic authors still employ against other believers—and he saw his job as drawing a solid-border at the Mason-Dixon line that would keep theological modernism out of the South for good. Despite his efforts and his rhetoric, Norris could never succeed in winning the Southern Baptist Convention. The reason he failed is because the Convention, in the first half of the twentieth century, couldn't see the need for Norris's brand of Christianity. There really were not that many modernists around and so the Southern church felt itself comfortably 'at ease in Zion' and let Norris's radicalism fall by the wayside. By the 1970s and 1980s however, Southern culture had changed visibly (ominously, if you will) and fundamentalistic Southern Baptists made another attempt at gaining control of the denomination. This time they succeeded in delivering America's largest Protestant denomination into fundamentalist hands. The charismatic preacher Adriane Rogers, the theologian Page Patterson, and the political strategist Paul Pressler rallied Southern Baptists behind the cause of Biblical inerrancy and sought to wrest control of the denomination's presidency. At stake in this contest was more than a mere title, but a wealth of denominational infrastructure (including six seminaries, the largest missionary structure in the world, etc.). Pressler understood that if fundamentalistic believers could gain control of the presidency for ten years straight then they could control all of the committees that appoint the boards of trustees for their institutions. They succeeded amazingly and since then, there has never been another moderate president of the Convention. Hankins emphasized that while this was certainly about politics and power, we need to understand that it was also equally about theology and religion. This takeover of the Southern Baptists was part of a larger cultural movement that George Marsden calls 'fundamentalistic evangelicalism'. Sherman recounted the way that, in contrast to 19th century evangelicalism, modern (or "New") Evangelicals trace the beginning of their movement to the 1940s when certain Fundamentalists sought to move beyond their sectarianism in order creatively re-engage culture. A group of visionary leaders including Harold Ockenga, Charles Fuller, Bernard Ramm, Carl F. Henry and Billy Graham called for a broad coalition of theological conservatives—a coalition that extended beyond classical Fundamentalism to include groups as diverse as the Pentecostals and the Mennonites, as well as conservatives from the mainline denominations (such the Anglicans John Stott and J. I. Packer). Despite its diversity, this coalition united around an ideal of positive evangelism (as seen in Billy Graham, for example). In 1942 the National Association of Evangelicals was founded, followed by Fuller Theological Seminary and the flagship publication Christianity Today. Initially, Fundamentalists and Evangelicals enjoyed close relations, but gradually the willingness of Evangelicals to cooperate with mainline denominations became too great for Fundamentalists to abide. When Billy Graham appealed to such mainline denominations for help in promoting his 1957 New York crusade, strict Fundamantalists broke all ties with Graham and the NAE. These ecclesiastical separatists believed that doctrinal purity alone guaranteed true fellowship, and so they needed to separate both from modernists and those who fellowshipped with modernists . After 1957, the term "Fundamentalist" is almost exclusively employed by those who felt the need to break fellowship with Evangelicals. A new era began in the 1970s. This era, 'fundamentalistic evangelicalism,' continues today, and saw the takeover of the Southern Baptist Convention as well as the rise of self-conscious fundamentalist influence on the American political landscape. Fundamentalistic evangelicalism marks a shift in fundamentalist strategies towards the kind of cultural engagement that Evangelicals embraced in the middle of the century. However, unlike their Evangelical predecessors, fundamentalistic evangelicals tend to build coalitions for political purposes rather than for the sake of fellowship or a kind of positive evangelistic motivation. This political motive accounts for the sense of cynicism one finds in fundamentalistic literature, since these alliances are political marriages of convenience and often little besides (for instance, in all seriousness, fundamentalists are likely to believe that their Catholic and Mormon allies in the 'religious right' are destined for eternal perdition). Nevertheless, such opportune alliances have met with stunning success at the ballot box, and together fundamentalistic evangelicals constitute what may be today's single largest voting block. As Barry Hankins noted, fundamentalistic evangelicals are to today's Republican party what labor was to Democrats in the middle in the 1950s. Two later presentations profiled particular movements within late-twentieth century fundamentalistic evangelicalism. Susan Harding recounted her significant anthropological work with Jerry Falwell's community in Lynchburg, VA. Harding lived for about a year with Falwell's community in the 1980s. By this time, Falwell, one of the most prominent figures in fundamentalistic evangelicalism, was senior pastor of the mega-church Thomas Road Baptist Church, had already begun his media ministry The Old Time Gospel Hour,and had founded the Moral Majority movement, his own seminary and Liberty University. In the early 1980s, fundamentalistic evangelicals were beginning to suture together a born-again version of Christianity with certain political commitments and litmus tests. They ceased calling themselves fundamentalists in order to present a less sectarian face to the world but, as Harding notes, these accommodations to political efficacy were also changing what it meant to belong to the fundamentalist community. They were beginning to see themselves less as sectarians and more as cultural guardians with the power to actively shape history. Harding described the way the fundamentalist vision moved from one of separation to one of assimilation—they began to develop a 'voracious' appetite for every kind of cultural encounter and believed that they could meet, assimilate and reproduce a Christian version of every cultural artifact. Thus, fundamentalists developed Christian versions of even the most secular cultural phenomena, including Christian heavy-metal bands, beauty pageants, a creation-science version of a natural history museum, and even Christian sex manuals. Harding found Falwell himself personally unimpressive and too polished to be interesting, but her encounters with others in Falwell's movement proved fascinating. For example, Harding described one encounter with Melvin Campbell, a pastor in Falwell's church. Harding went to interview him and asked Campbell how he became a pastor. Campbell began to 'witness' to Harding for the next hour and a half, sharing his testimony and explaining to Harding how she could be 'saved'. When she left the office, Harding found herself barely escaping an accident at a red light and heard a voice say inside her head, "What's God trying to tell me?" It wasn't however, an alien voice, but Harding's own voice that said those words. Harding was neither a Christian nor a fundamentalist, and found the experience disquieting. Had she turned her car around and gone back to pastor Campbell's office to pray, she would have found herself a member of the community. Rather than following this typical conversion narrative, however, Harding reflected on the experience as an anthropologist, neither dismissing it, nor embracing it, but preferring instead to remain in a liminal space of open but critical assessment. The historian Timothy Webber later explained to her that she had "come under conviction," a recognizable step in fundamentalist conversion stories. Harding described this experience as her entry in the language-world of her fundamentalist hosts. Reflecting on this experience, she noted how the boundary between belief and unbelief is much more permeable than we would like to suppose. By coming under conviction, Harding developed an unconscious belief—what she calls 'narrative belief'—though she refused to move to the next stage and embrace this narrative consciously. This initiation into their language-world allowed Harding to understand that when a fundamentalist says, "God spoke to me," this is a true statement. Religion does not only function on a doctrinal level, or the level of practice and ritual, but especially on the level of language. What fundamentalistic evangelicals have discovered in recent decades is the power of their language to re-constitute the modern world along different lines, and thus they find themselves capable of assimilating and reproducing rock music, fashion, television game-shows and so forth along wholly fundamentalistic lines. She suggested that this tells us something about the world outside of the churches, as well. We can no longer presume that secularity is either self-evident or necessary. We seem to be moving quickly into a post-secular world, one in which religious narratives again play structuring roles in society. The still unanswered question is whether and what kind of religious narratives will achieve cultural dominance. One narrative actively seeking to structure American society can be found in the Left Behind novels. This series of books, written by Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye, is one of the most notable events in the world of fundamentalistic evangelicalism over the last decade. Because Glenn Shuck, an expert in the Left Behind series, was unable to attend the conference due to an emergency, Jacob Sherman presented on LaHaye and Jenkins's novels and led a discussion of Shuck's work in this area. The Left Behind books present themselves as a kind of apocalyptic melding of conspiracy and science-fiction genres. They acknowledge that their stories are fiction but claim that they present highly plausible readings of the way that the certainties of biblical prophecy (so LaHaye and Jenkins believe) might unfold. The first novel, Left Behind, opens just after midnight on a transcontinental passenger airline half-way over the Atlantic. |