Ever since the 2016 U.S. presidential election, there’s been a lot of
focus on evangelicals in that country. Specifically, why so many of them voted
for Donald Trump—and why they continue to support him.
That support has prompted some evangelicals in other countries to put
distance between themselves and their American co-religionists, and to try to
define what evangelicalism means in their own nations.
One of the leading voices for
that in Canada is John Stackhouse, a professor of religious studies at New
Brunswick’s Crandall University.
Stackhouse, who
formerly taught at the University of Manitoba, is writing a book on
evangelicalism—what it is, what it isn’t, and how it is different from what we
see in the U.S.—for Oxford University Press. Before it comes out next
year, I asked him a few questions about the book and the state of
evangelicalism today.
The book is due out next year.
What prompted you to want to
write this book?
Evangelicalism is widely
recognized but not widely understood. There are lots of simplistic versions of
it, from critics who think it means just “fundamentalism” or “Trump supporters”
to people who think it means just “true Christianity.”
So because I have been a
historian of evangelicalism, a theologian within evangelicalism, and a
journalist on behalf of evangelicalism, I thought I could help a wide audience
see evangelicalism as the richly interesting style of Christianity it has been
for almost 300 years.
What are you planning to write
about in the book?
I’ll cover the history of
evangelicalism, of course, from its European and American origins to its
current status as the world’s fastest-growing form of religion. I will also,
however, take considerable time to define it: to sort out what it is and what
it isn’t.
I’ll be careful to discuss not
just its main convictions, but also its defining characteristics. That means
looking at evangelicalism in terms of social science as well as theology, as an
actual coursing phenomenon in history and not just as a collection of beliefs.
Evangelicalism is not only
doctrinally orthodox about Jesus, say, and the Bible, but it is also a deeply
populist and sometimes ruthlessly pragmatic form of religion.
It is fundamentally a “heart”
religion, but it has strong convictions about one’s “head” and “hands” as well,
in some forms aimed literally at world domination, while in other forms simply
trying to better society as it can.
Perhaps controversially, I'm
going to suggest that in Christianity there are three basic styles: conservative,
liberal, and evangelical, and they show up across the Protestant spectrum and
even within Roman Catholicism and (small) parts of Orthodoxy. Evangelicals,
that is, aren’t just Baptists and Pentecostals!
What do you see as the future of
evangelicalism? (In Canada, the U.S.)
Historians know enough not to try
to tell the future—at least, the careful ones predict it very carefully.
For the short term, evangelicals
in Canada are going to continue to just get along, make a few converts, work
hard to retain the allegiance of their young people (which they do better than
almost anyone else), stay out of trouble, and do some good for their neighbours
here and abroad.
It is an open question, however,
as to how much pressure will be exerted on evangelicals to conform to an
increasingly heavy-handed regime of “correct” thinking that insists that all
physicians, lawyers, professors, teachers, pharmacists, public speakers, media,
and more get in line.
There are too few people
defending meaningful freedom of religion in Canada, and evangelicals, among
others, are being constantly squeezed by jurists, politicians, professional
societies, and others to conform to a particular secularist orthodoxy.
In the United States, well, let’s
see how the presidential election goes. Black evangelicals, like Black people
in general, have been energized as well as saddened and infuriated by the
recent spate of high-profile killings.
White evangelicals have been told
that “reconciliation,” their favourite word for relating to Black Christians,
might just have to wait until justice is actually significantly increased.
Meanwhile, the Trump phenomenon
that has so badly scarred so many people’s estimation of (white) evangelicals
will play out in ways none of us can foresee.
You have said that a move to the
left by younger Christians today is a straightening out of evangelicalism. What
do you mean by that?
Evangelicalism in Canada, and
much more so in the United States, was so worried about young people losing
their faith and being lost to “the world” that they formulated mores of a
highly precise, vivid, and strict kind—and policed them rigorously. Hence the
old line, “We don’t dance or smoke or chew, and we don’t go with the girls that
do.”
Doctrines likewise were defined
extensively and insisted upon rigidly. That conservativism, typical of
fundamentalism but quite widespread in evangelicalism generally, has relaxed
considerably since the 1960s.
Some worry that evangelicals have
slackened the reins too far and have become indistinguishable from the world
around them, and in many cases that’s true.
But surveys have shown that
faithful churchgoers manifest strikingly different lives from the rest of the
population, and mostly for the better: in terms of marital and sexual
happiness, financial stability, volunteering and contributing to charities
(both religious and otherwise), use of drugs, incidence of depression and
suicide, and more.
So some of the “leftward”
movement has been a helpful emancipation from an overly defensive stance, while
of course, like any social movement, it may well go too far in the other
direction in at least some instances.
You said there “approximately
zero” evangelical churches aimed at intellectuals, artists, dissidents. Why?
Because North American
evangelicals have been worried for more than a century about doctrinal
liberalism, ethical looseness, and any other sort of deviance from the norm,
evangelical families, churches, and other institutions have not been fertile
places for criticism and creativity.
That is to say, lots of critical
and creative people have been raised in evangelical homes and congregations,
but then have felt they had to leave because they were too hot to handle,
condemned as disruptive instead of welcomed and perhaps also mentored as
Christian creatives.
Many evangelicals will disagree
with this characterization and point to churches with highly educated
congregants and a lively arts program of some kind. But in terms of the broader
culture, in terms of any decent university, the tolerance for diversity, or
even ambiguity—which are the stock in trade of creative people—remains pretty
low. Those smart, artistic churches are still very conventional.
What would an evangelical church
look like that resonates with people who resonate with The New Yorker as
much as with Christianity Today?
Such a church needs leaders who
have significant training and experience in the big world of ideas and arts.
There is no substitute for actual engagement, not even education about contemporary
ideas and arts that one can get in a good evangelical university. One has
to “get it,” and you don’t really get what you don’t really do.
Instead, alas, we have “groovy”
evangelical churches pastored by charismatic men who perhaps have a single
degree in theological studies and no expertise in philosophy, social science,
or the fine arts trying to interpret a culture they have hardly experienced
themselves and then telling the budding intellectuals and artists in their
churches how they ought to think and feel and act.
That’s no environment for genuine
experimentation and supportive evaluation—which is the only way real creativity
progresses.
What does it say about
evangelicalism today that Americans have dominated it so much? How did it end
up being so American-centric? How has this impacted global evangelicalism both
positively and negatively?
Americans have dominated
evangelicalism mostly in the same respects in which they have dominated the
modern world, especially since the Second World War. Money, initiative, and
innovation are a powerful combination whether you’re Exxon, Google, the CIA, or
World Vision.
Global evangelicalism has been
quite aware of the mixed blessing of American participation, and evangelicals
on every continent are consciously trying to move forward in ways authentic to
their own cultural heritage without being ungrateful for American help but also
trying to emancipate themselves from it—not unlike the way previous generations
had to extricate themselves from unhelpful dimensions of the British and other
European empires.
With the current situation in the
U.S. politically, and how many evangelicals have allied themselves with the GOP
and Trump and nationalistic fervor, what does this say about the character of
American evangelicalism? And why should evangelicals in other countries do
about it?
My American editor wants me not
to write a book that is focused on the United States. And, indeed, evangelicals
worldwide are now predominantly non-White. She also wants me not to fixate on
Trump, so I literally have not mentioned him in the first draft and likely
won’t mention him even if he is re-elected.
Why? Because the most important
stories about evangelicals in the world today are being told in Latin America,
Africa, China, and Korea. Those are the places with the largest evangelical
populations outside the United States and those are the places evangelicalism
is exploding.
Support for Donald Trump in the
United States among White evangelicals seems to be largely a function of White
Christian nationalism, a belief rooted in American Christianity right back to
the Puritans that America is special. America is a light to the nations, a city
on a hill, an example to “Old Europe” and the rest of the world of what a godly
nation looks like.
Indeed, America has a God-given
mission to bless the world: originally as this inspiring example, and
progressively as the bearer of American goodness to the world—the American
version of Kiping’s “white man’s burden.”
This messianic complex is
uniquely American, and White evangelicals see themselves as the original and as
the (most) authentic Americans. They want America to be great again in all the
ways they define “greatness”—and they believe that’s what God wants, too.
Other American
evangelicals—Black, Latinx, Asian, and so on—shake their heads and distance
themselves from that ideal, as do Canadians and, indeed, evangelicals all
around the world.
Indeed, we’re all hoping and
praying that Americans can somehow rid themselves of this toxic syncretism of
Christianity and racist nationalistic “manifest destiny” once and for all. But
it doesn’t look like it will be soon.
What would a uniquely Canadian
evangelicalism look like?
Canadian evangelicalism would be
faithful, fervent Christianity that was at once pragmatic, tolerant of even
deep difference, and focused on the everyday virtues of security, prosperity,
justice, and neighbourly compassion, as we see in the best emphases of
Confederation itself, in the best ideals of multiculturalism, and in the best
elements of our Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
