The History Evangelicals Prefer

Mark Noll wrote The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind (1994) in the early 1990s but the recovery of a mind for evangelicals had been in the works for at least a couple decades. Prior to 1980, the study of American Protestantism followed the mainline denominations – from the colonists to the National Council of Churches. Of course, awakenings (18th century and 19th century) were part of the story but by 1950 Billy Graham’s revivals were clearly outside the Protestant mainstream.

That consolidation of the mainline Protestant narrative took a beating during the 1960s when so much of the United States’ institutions changed thanks to race (Civil Rights), sex (feminism), and war (Vietnam). From 1965 to 1980, in the history of American religion, mainline Protestants needed to make way for the Black church, Roman Catholics, Jews, and other non-Christian groups. Bringing up the rear were evangelical Protestants who, with a burst of energy supplied by Jimmy Carter’s admission that he was a “born-again” Christian, the founding of the Moral Majority and the funneling of evangelicals into the Religious Right, evangelical history took off like a rocket (that actually worked).

At the forefront of this history was George Marsden whose 1980 book on fundamentalism (Fundamentalism and American Culture) coincidentally came out just when journalist, think tank scholars, and even college professors were trying to figure out where the Religious Right came from. Soon, Mark Noll and Nathan Hatch emerged as leading voices on American evangelicalism, though both worked more on the Founding and the early national period than the twentieth century. Noll’s Princeton and the Republic is still a model of historical scholarship. Hatch’s The Democratization of American Christianity was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize in history.

With those three scholars at the front of the parade, other evangelical historians began to weave evangelicalism into the history of the United States. Some historians thought the recovery of evangelicalism in the history of the United States went too far and tried to explain too much. Mainline Protestant historians began to push back and tried to recover the particular histories of the mainline denominations. But evangelicalism, which hardly anyone knew about in 1975 had by 1990 become one of the most widely researched topics in the study of American religious history.

Where did it lead? Did evangelicals themselves come to a clearer awareness of their American past? Did they come to appreciate the variety of figures that had the most influence in their day when almost no one was reading Jonathan Edwards – figures like Charles Finney, Hannah Whitehall Smith (The Christian’s Secret to a Happy Life), Dwight L. Moody, Charles Parham (of speaking in tongues fame, Josiah Strong (whose social gospel had Christian Nationalist over and undertones), J. Gresham Machen, William Jennings Bryan, Harold John Ockenga, Billy Graham, Carl Henry, or Kenneth Kantzer (who put Trinity Evangelical Divinity School on the map before it wasn’t anymore). Did they figure out the American story?

Recommendations for church libraries may not reveal everything, but they do suggest what parts of evangelical history interest today’s believers. Tim Challies compiled a 250-book list and in it were sections that dip into those figures and eras that indicate the eras, figures, and texts that deserve attention. Readers may not be surprised to learn that Puritans and other Protestants associated with awakenings are the most worthy of study.

In Challies’ “Classics” section – numbers 73 to 84 – were John Bunyan, Augustine (Confessions), C. S. Lewis twice (Mere Christianity and Screwtape Letters), J. C. Ryle twice (Holiness and Thoughts for Young Men), Richard Sibbes (Bruised Reed), Thomas Brooks (Precious Remedies Against Satan’s Devices), Jeremiah Burroughs (Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment), John Owen (Overcoming Sin and Temptation), John Calvin (A Little Book on the Christian Life), and Charles Spurgeon (All of Grace). By my reckoning, that list is heavily weighted to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Those who want to hear from more contemporary authors are thanking the Lord for the writers with two initials in their name.

The section on biography (numbers 200 to 222) again leans heavily toward the Puritans, awakenings, and foreign missions (this does not include everyone): John Bunyan, John Calvin, Martin Luther, Jonathan Edwards, Charles Spurgeon, Spurgeon’s wife, Susie, George Whitefield, John Newton, William Tyndale, Hudson Taylor, Adoniram Judson, Amy Carmichael, Henry Martyn, John and Betty Stam, Corrie Ten Boom, Elisabeth Eliot, R. C. Sproul (the twentieth century seems to have cultivated the two-initial phenomenon), and Tim Keller.

The last section explicitly recommends texts on church history (numbers 224 to 230). Challies recommends four books that survey the past, two on the Reformation, one on the early church and the doctrine of Christ (Stephen Nichols, For Us and For Our Salvation), and one on the Puritans.

What these lists show is that the work of the evangelical historians, such as Noll, Marsden, and Hatch, did not make much of an impression on rank-and-file evangelicals, their pastors, or the seminaries that train those pastors. Evangelically motivated Protestants came into the POSTWAR!!! (World War II) period with regard for the Reformers, Puritans, and revivalists. The output of evangelical history by evangelical historians has not changed that historical proclivity.

George Marsden actually captured this tendency among evangelicals in his introduction to Evangelicalism and Modern America (1984)

For Marsden, evangelicalism broadly speaking meant that

many American evangelicals participate in a larger historical pattern, having substantial historical experiences in common. All reflect the sixteenth-century Reformation effort to get back to the pure Word of Scripture as the only ultimate authority and to confine salvation to a faith in Christ, unencumbered by presumptuous human authority. During the next centuries these emphases were renewed and modified in a variety of ways, often parallel or interconnected, by groups such as the Puritans, Pietists, Methodists, Baptists, nineteenth-century Restorationists, revivalists, black Christians, holiness groups, Pentecosals, and others.

In contrast, evangelicalism narrowly considered was

for many self-consciously, a community. In this respect evangelicalism is most like a denomination. It is a religious fellowship or coalition of which people feel a part. This sense of an informal evangelical community or coalition goes back to the international Pietism of the eighteenth century. . . . International revivalism, particularly that of Charles Finney in the first half of the century and Dwight L. Moody in the second, as well as efforts in world missions, especially helped foster a unity of purpose among evangelicals from a variety of denominations.

Of course, the history of evangelicals since 1800 has not been particularly inspirational or theologically stable. Even so, some might have expected the recovery of evangelical history by evangelical historians to have moved the favorite-period-of-church-history needle.

Faking It

A few more thoughts on the Duncan, Nevin, Helm, Edwards discussion.

The proponents of Edwards and the First Pretty Good Awakening (hereafter FPGA) are worried about nominal Christianity – that is, people who go through the motions of worship or Christian practice. Although this is an understandable concern – who would ever commend hypocrisy unless you are a vice paying tribute to a virtue – it is also an impossible concern. How does anyone know if another person is faking anything? Only God knows the heart. So the effort to eradicate going through the motions is a lot like a quest to be God (and wasn’t that what got our first parents into trouble?).

At the same time, why is it that insincerity only goes in one direction? Why is it only possible for Christian profession and practice to betray unbelief? Why can’t unholy actions betray a believing heart? Of course, I’m not trying to justify sin or worldliness. But if the heart is as fickle as pietists believe it is, why isn’t it possible for the duplicity to go both ways? Why can’t a believer’s impious actions actually betray real belief? What if someone is faking unbelief but really believes? If you think this seems preposterous, consider Peter’s thrice denying his Lord. And he became Pope!

Those skeptical about Edwards put less emphasis on the first word of “faking it” and worry more about the it. That is, they (okay, I) worry that the words or actions in question are actually fitting or biblical – fitting within the Reformed tradition or having a warrant from Scripture. Since we can’t know the human heart, at least we can take precaution that the things we do as believers and the things we say actually conform to what Scripture teaches. Let the Spirit take care of the heart, along with pastoral counsel in the privacy of one’s home.

So, for instance, when churches have Thanksgiving Day services where people stand to give testimonies, the Edwards proponents might be very much moved by the woman who stands to give thanks that she recently found a job afer a year of unemployment. And if the woman cries, the Edwardsean might be especially inclined to think this testimony spiritual and genuine. After all, the pro-FPGA saw lots of tears (and more) as evidence of the work of the Spirit. Never mind that sometimes people cry when speaking in public because they are nervous. If affections appear, then hallelujah, we have piety.

Edwards skeptics may also be moved by the emotion, but will also be sitting there going postal internally because of the impropriety of letting people, even saints, stand up and say things without any sort of screening by the pastor and elders. In other words, whether or not someone fakes a testimony, the issue in this case is that testimonies are wrong. The noun (“it”) matters more than the gerund (“faking”).

But Edwards rooters are rarely as worried about the “it” as Edwards skeptics and the reasons are that those who are interested in holy affections often take liberties with the “it” of Christian piety. That is, in order to cultivate and give expression to those genuine affections, pietistically inclined establish new practices, sometimes not having biblical warrant or foreign to the Reformed tradition, in order to fan real spirituality into aflame. The best example of this is the phenomenon of hymns. Prior to the FPGA, Presbyterians all sang psalms (or other biblical songs). But these songs were not as conducive to the revivals of Whitefield, Wesley, and Edwards as were the hymns being written expressly for revivalistic purposes by the likes of Watts and Wesley (Charles, that is).

Now maybe you are a hymn-singing kind of Presbyterian. I myself enjoy a good hymn now and then. But the historical record is remarkably undeniable that hymn singing prevailed among a group of believers previously committed to psalm-singing because those biblical songs weren’t cutting it in the effort to create believers who did not fake singing psalms but really sang hymns.

And now to bring it full circle, hymn-singing Presbyterians in the 1980s were besieged by praise-song singing Presbyterians because the old hymns weren’t up to speed with Jesus people piety.

So once you start down the road of the quest for genuine piety, it’s hard to get off before it turns into the charismatic highway.

I seem to recall Scott Clark writing a book about this.