Post Series
0—Intro
1—Fundamentalism (Kevin Bauder)
2—Confessional Evangelicalism (Al Mohler)
3—Generic Evangelicalism (John Stackhouse)
4—Postconservative Evangelicalism (Roger Olson)
5—Conclusion and Reflection
Here is the fourth perspective on our journey through Four Views on the Spectrum of Evangelicalism
The central argument of Olson’s essay is this: “the problem with identifying who is authentically evangelical is that ‘evangelical’ and ‘evangelicalism’ are essentially contested concepts…The reason that [they] are essentially contested concepts is that the evangelical movement has no headquarters or authoritative magisterium.” (162-163) I’ve seen Olson make this claim before, that their is no “evangelical magisterium.” He made it and made it often during the Love Wins brouhaha, claiming that no one in evangelicalism had the right to say this book or its author wasn’t evangelical, not to mention unorthodox. I think this is an incredibly simplistic and nonsensical response to a very important question: what makes something/one evangelical? Before I get to why I think so, here is why Olson says what he says.
Olson’s claim is built on the argument that evangelicalism is a “center set” rather than a “bounded set.” Meaning that evangelicalism is bound together by a common center of convictions as a common “gravitational pull” that “nobody can identify with precise boundaries around them, and therefore it is impossible to say with certainty exactly which entities belong to the set and which do not.” (164) That’s quite the claim to make, and he makes it because he says evangelicalism is a movement not an organization.
“A social movement is a centered set unless and until it becomes an organization, which is when it becomes a bounded set. But then it is no longer a movement. I argue that a social movement cannot have boundaries. That is what makes it a movement and not an organization. The moment a movement gets organized and has boundaries (e.g. establishing definite membership), it is no longer a movement.” (165)
Furthermore, Olson defines evangelicalism much more in terms of historical and sociological terms, rather than strictly theologically ones. And this makes sense given that he defines it in movement vs. organization terms. Olson reiterates that “no absolute boundary lines exist” in evangelicalism, but instead is marked by a history-formed center. That history-formed center looks just like two other essayists, Mohler and Stackhouse, have argued based on David Bebbington’s quadrilateral: conversionism, biblicism, crucicentrism, and activism. Olson argues that these four essential hallmarks of authentic evangelicalism are “not boundary markers but landmarks, not sides of a box but foci of attention and action.” (175)
Like Stackhouse, Olson adds a fifth hallmark of the evangelical movement that I find interesting in light of his aversion to doctrinal boundaries: a “respect for historic Christian orthodoxy.” (176) This fifth does not mean “firm adherence to,” but instead “respect for,” which seems conveniently slippery and vague. “Respect for, if not slavish adherence to, the great milestones of Christian doctrine is what some have called ‘generous orthodoxy,’ and I consider it a hallmark of genuine evangelicalism” (177)
Olson’s definition is curious to me for several reasons:
First, his definition of movements as boundary-less is suspect. One could look at non-Christian historical examples to help us. Take the Civil Rights and Gay Rights movements, for example. Aren’t they both two very separate movements that are indeed defined by very different boundaries? I don’t think anyone would deny the fact that each are indeed defined by strict boundary lines that mark them from each other, much less other movements (like what some would term the “anti-gay movement,” for instance). Likewise, I don’t think anyone would be confused by the boundaries that define either of the movements; I don’t think they would be offended either, for that matter, claiming that each have very definable boundaries that set their respective movements apart, and from each other. Either you’re inside their boundaries oriented toward their center (i.e. a center-bounded movement), or you’re not. You either believe in sexual equality or you don’t. You either believe in racial equality or you don’t. I would argue a number of beliefs mark both social movements, while they also have at their center a basic orientation for social change. The same is true for evangelicalism.
Second, his insistence there is no “evangelical magisterium,” and thus no way to enforce doctrinal uniformity, contradicts his own positioning. Right after questioning “who will write the doctrinal test that determines who is in and who is not really evangelical? Who will interpret it? Who will draw the boundaries and patrol them?” Olson does the very thing he he claims impossible in a case study, where he concludes “it seems to me to stretch the meaning of evangelicalism to include groups such as Seventh-day Adventism and Churches of Christ.” (181) Really, how can Olson come close to suggesting such a thing after claiming loudly and often that no one has the right to declare who is in and out because there are no boundaries? So there does come a point for Olson where some person or some entity is out, rather than in. But this logically contradicts his own arguments.
Furthermore, Olson’s definitions of center and boundary are questionable and nonsensical. For example, Olson insists that conversionism, which he attests is a “hallmark” of evangelicalism “assumes some surrounding doctrinal beliefs,” beliefs that include: Jesus Christ is Lord, Savior and God; the Holy Spirit brings about salvation; the Trinity; and conversion and transformation are only “by grace through faith” and not achievements of the person. (171) But lest someone suggest each of these “surrounding doctrinal beliefs” are boundaries, Olson plays interference and declares, “This hallmark [conversionism] together with the following ones, forms part of the gravitational center of evangelicalism.” (172, emph. mine) Olson seems to go to great lengths to try and identify an evangelical identity without evangelical boundaries, an effort that simply makes no sense as historically and sociologically the things Olson wants to define as a “gravitational center” have always existed as boundaries for that identity. Call it a “gravitational center” if you must, but if it looks like a boundary, talks like a boundary, and smells like a boundary…it’s a boundary!
In his response, Stackhouse notes this very thing: “How ‘less’ could you believe in the deity of Christ or the authority of Scripture or the necessity for conversion and still be called and evangelical? At an important basic level, you either believe in the full deity and humanity of Jesus Christ or you don’t, in the Scripture as the Wordof God written or you don’t, in the necessity of the new birth or you don’t…if you disagree at the first level, you’re not an evangelical.” (202) And while Olson hates to think of these doctrinal beliefs as boundaries and litmus tests, preferring to call them “hallmarks,” that’s what they are because they provide useful information: if someone fails the test—in that they don’t believe in the Trinity or authority of Scripture—they are not an evangelical.
In the end, I did not find this perspective on evangelicalism helpful. Olson’s distinction between boundaries and centers, movements and organization was confusing. His drumbeat insistence there is no entity that has the right to decide who is in or out and instance on the impossibility do such a decision logically contradicts his own pronouncements against two Christian denominations. And his reaction against doctrinal “litmus tests” and policing is simply unhelpful.
Stackhouse noted an attitude of woundedness that seems to underly his reactive posture. I’d agree. It seems obvious that Olson’s experience with the evangelical reaction to open theism has jaded and colored his understanding of evangelicalism at large. And his recent defense of Rob Bell and reaction against his detractors is evidence of this jaded attitude. Even through this recent experience he loudly protested there isn’t an “evangelical magisterium,” which means no one in evangelicalism has the right to name what is in or out, doctrinally right or wrong. Yes there is no central organizing group or person that has legal authority to declare something out of bounds, like Rome and the Pope. That doesn’t mean there isn’t an ethos and historical-socio-theological precedent that enables the movement and individuals to do just that. And on this point and others, Olson fails miserably, where Stackhouse and Mohler succeed in helping give good definition to what is and isn’t evangelical.
In the last post I’ll give some final thoughts, especially regarding my own personal leanings on the other side of this adventure through the evangelical spectrum.
What do you make of Olson’s arguments? Do you identify? Do you agree with him and his definitions?
If you see what self-professed evangelicals say, there is clearly a fair amount of diversity, albeit a large number who identify it with the same or similar elements. But it is correct that there is no authoritative view, and some (most, probably) who consider themselves evangelicals would define it so as to exclude others who also define themselves as evangelical. I think the majority of evangelicals do see it as having boundaries, so I think the argument that it is center-set because it isn't an organization per se is a bit labored. But there are variations in the boundaries set among different groups of evangelicals. It is certainly debatable to exclude the denominations Olson excludes, although they both do have definite doctrinal peculiarities.
TO BE CONTINUED in next comment
One can also posit a distinction between evangelical (what I sometimes call pure evangelical) tied solely to the root meaning of the word, and evangelical as carrying the various doctrinal and practice elements that have been accepted as normative by large numbers who claim the label. The "pure evangelical" is not tied to a particular doctrinal stance. In that sense, you can be evangelical without being an Evangelical. (This is where I place myself as one who rejects mainstream evangelicalism as not sufficiently Christ-centered.)