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Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Home Page
The Rector's Welcome
Worship
Sermons
Music & the Organ
Newsletter
Schedule & Events
History
Programs & Ministries
Tour the Building
Links
Map & Directions
Monthly Calendar
Fr. J. D. Ousley
14 August 2005“Confessions of a Former Evangelical”
In the Name of God: Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Amen.
This summer, I received an email from a friend of mine who is a playwright. My friend was working on a play about evangelicals, and he wanted to learn more about what they believed.
I sent my friend a few messages that described characteristic beliefs of the movement. We then went on to discuss the political and social influence of some evangelical leaders.
In this correspondence, I had been thinking of "evangelicals" as "them" — as a very different, almost alien sort of Christian. Then I remembered that at one time in my life, I was an evangelical!
When I was an undergraduate, I was a member of my college's chapter of the InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. This was an organization dedicated to spreading the Gospel on college campuses; it maintains a presence in many schools to this day.
The chapter of InterVarsity I was in met in a quiet little room at the base of a bell tower. From 10:00 to 11:00 p.m. on weekday evenings, a few of us would gather, and we would talk of things that were important to us; we discussed Jesus and texts from the Bible.
Jesus, Scripture and prayer, mostly prayer. Some of my most peaceful memories from college are of sitting in that chapel.
At the time, I didn't really think of myself as an "evangelical;" we referred to ourselves simply as "Christians." Nor can I remember that we devoted much time to the concerns evangelicals now are noted for, like issues of ethics and sexual morality.
While we talked a lot about doctrine, there was no theological "party line." We did speak sometimes about "liberal" Christians and what seemed to be a lack of seriousness in their approach to religion. But I don't remember the theological divisions being as rigid as they seem to be today.
We did discuss the draft and the Vietnam War, but again, politics didn't seem to be a major part of our religion. However, I would note this was in the late 1960's, when abortion was still illegal, stem cell research was a science fiction fantasy, and creationism was a theory espoused by a few eccentrics in the Bible Belt.
At that time, then, we defined ourselves in a positive way by what we believed in and by the impact faith had on our lives. Our fellowship stressed the joys of a personal relationship with Jesus, the power of prayer, and the wisdom of the Bible.
For us, this constituted "evangelical" religion. We believed in "sharing the good news," which in those days included showing how Christianity gives meaning to life. But we didn't feel we had to commit ourselves to particular ethic views or to other forms of "doctrinal correctness."
Nor were we terribly interested in furthering the party politics of the evangelical churches we hear so much about today. A recent article in the New York Times claimed that evangelicals are now trying to "infiltrate" Ivy League campuses.
According to the Times, the plan is to convince future leaders of American society that Christianity is true — thus planting the seed of future growth of conservative Protestant churches.
When I read the article, I said to myself, "Those evangelicals will try to get in anywhere! They already control half the government; now they want to run the universities, too."
Then I recalled that when I was in college, evangelical groups were also engaged in aggressive evangelism on campuses — including my own Ivy League university, Yale. So There is really nothing new about this.
I imagine that — than, as now — the national InterVarsity Christian Fellowship wanted to have influence in the Ivy League. We in this group might ourselves have had hopes of being "future leaders" for Christ. Still I don't remember that we cared much about being evangelical or that we wanted to increase the membership of particular denominations.
At the time, we students were interested in the peace and freedom of personal faith–the benefits of basic Christianity without the liabilities of "organized" religion.
There was one controversy just before I arrived at college. The fight had caused the InterVarsity chapter to split.
Some members of the fellowship apparently began to speak in tongues; they claimed to prophesy the future. And they showed other practices of the charismatic movement. These former members of our group came to follow the guidance of some shadowy older people who encouraged them to be visible on campus. Students called this splinter group, "the God Squad."
Those who were left in the Yale Christian Union when I arrived weren't "known" for anything. We avoided publicity, and we enjoyed our quiet little meetings.
Soon after I graduated, I moved on to the traditional worship and structure of the Episcopal Church. I first had wonderful experiences of the Anglo-Catholic tendency in our church, at the opposite end of liturgical spectrum from the evangelical. I finally ended up in the loosely-defined section of Anglicanism known as the "Broad Church."
Now, there are numbers of self-described evangelicals within the Anglican Communion today; they are the most powerful faction in the Church of England and in some African countries. As in other denominations, many of their positions on church authority or morality could be regarded as extremely conservative.
Even so, I don't regret my years as an evangelical. Not for one minute. Nothing could have been more genuine than our group's experience of prayer, the Incarnate Jesus the loving God the ever-present Holy Spirit.
Maybe I'm remembering a kinder, gentler version of evangelicals — free of moralism and pseudo-science. It might have been a version of C. S. Lewis' Mere Christianity — the basic faith inherent in the best forms of all the Christian churches.
Today, I might feel that my youthful faith was too simple — only "mere" Christianity, lacking the sacraments and the rich structure and intellectual traditions of the historic faith.
I became an Anglican so I could share more fully in these traditions. Yet my personal journey doesn't diminish the value of the evangelical version of Christian faith.
Instead, my experience indicates the strengths of this movement — strengths that aren't always evident in the media portrayals of evangelicals. Simple, Jesus-centered, prayerful religion has immense value. One can be proud to be a Christian, one can take pleasure in this identity without being "rigid;" one can be interested in doctrines without being doctrinaire.
And many of the political issues today's evangelicals care about are undoubtedly important.
Other members of the Episcopal Church and the mainline denominations have also struggled to define themselves positively in the political arena, and we, too, have often ended up attacking people with whom we disagree.
Like evangelical churches, we could also profit by remembering basic Christianity. Jesus, Scripture and prayer, especially prayer.
We, too, could benefit if we as a church offered — before anything else–a time to pray, and an attractive picture of Jesus, and an open community of people who trust in God.
And now unto that same God Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be ascribed as is most justly due all might, majesty, power, dominion and praise, now and forever, Amen.