Posts Tagged Reflections

Reflections V

Last month at the Lansdale conference I was asked what prompted me to rethink the application aspect of ecclesiastical separation, and my answer pointed toward changes that I saw happening both within the normal circle of my fellowship and outside of it. I’ve spent the last few posts talking about the changes internally, some of which certainly can be called changes in my perspective, not only changes in the folks around me. Things which I had hoped would experience positive change proved to be more resistant to change than I anticipated, and in some ways there was regress, not progress. Additionally, I became convinced that what D. G. Hart had written in Deconstructing Evangelicalism about evangelicalism was basically true about fundamentalism—its status as a movement was more myth than reality.

If I am going to wrap this up properly, I still need to address the other side of this issue—what was happening in evangelicalism that affected my thinking regarding applications? Well, books like Hart’s provide one category of answer to that question. A series of important doctrinal issues were coming to a head in the 1990s among evangelicals, and the rise of an openly declared and aggressive evangelical left presented a serious challenge for theologically conservative evangelicals. Big ticket items like Evangelicals and Catholics Together (ECT) clearly gained most of the attention, but there was a deeper, broader challenge connected to the embrace of postmodernism.

Examples of the leftward push were chronicled in largely unfavorable way by Millard Erickson in The Evangelical Left (1997). More positive assessments have come from the pen of Robert Webber (The Younger Evangelicals, of which a critical review by Dr. Rolland McCune can be found here) and Dave Tomlinson (The Post-Evangelical). Gary Dorrien, in The Remaking of Evangelical Theology, took direct aim at historic New Evangelicalism in an effort to show that it was, in his estimation, nothing more than “fundamentalism with good manners” because it did not reject the theological structure of fundamentalism. Theologians like Stanley Grenz engaged in ambitious efforts to move Beyond Foundationalism in order to do theology in a post-modern context. In addition to this larger philosophical shift, the Open Theism issue bloomed into full controversy across the evangelical landscape.

Prompted by this leftward tide, and directly opposed to it, a wide range of evangelical authors began to speak and write about the need to formulate doctrinal boundaries. Just a quick list from memory of books in my own library includes works by: D. A. Carson (Love in Hard Places); Al Mohler (“Reformist Evangelicalism” in A Confessing Theology for a Postmodern Times, edited by Michael Horton); Wayne Grudem wrote a chapter entitled “Why, When, and for What Should We Draw New Boundaries” in Beyond the Bounds; MacArthur touched on this in Reckless Faith (the pertinent chapter was also published in Truth Matters); R, C. Sproul tackled the ECT issue in Getting the Gospel RightA combined effort to offset the inroads of postmodernism captures the spirit of what I was seeing—it was entitled Reclaiming the Center: Confronting Evangelical Accommodation in Postmodern Times. If I were in my office I’d be able to supply more bibliography, but this is probably enough to make my point—the evident presence of theological error among evangelicals was forcing conservative evangelicals to wrestle with the boundaries of evangelicalism, and that, of necessity, raises the question of separation. IOW, you can’t mark a boundary line without making distinctions and establishing differences. The affirmation-denials of the initial T4G conference was also intended to do this, although it did it quite tamely, from my perspective.

As I mentioned during  the Lansdale conference panel discussion, Phil Johnson, of Grace to You, also acknowledged in 2005 that the concept of secondary separation has biblical validity, though he contended that it has been misused and abused too often by those who claim it. This was a significant admission as far as I’m concerned. In 2006, Mark Dever and I crossed paths for the first time and engaged in the quizzing of each other to figure out what each believed. I’ve had a number of other conversations with men from outside of the traditional fundamentalist orbit who clearly believe that the Bible teaches separation from false doctrine and also believe that God’s people are obligated to obey the Bible on this point.

Further, I know a number of men who had become dissatisfied with movement fundamentalism, if I may call it that, but had not repudiated separation per se. In their minds, the weak preaching and theology, majoring on minors, and constant in-fighting just could not be tolerated anymore. A lot of these men found themselves pushed out of the “fellowship” over some minor ministry issue or alleged compromise. It is flat out dishonesty to call these men neo-evangelicals. They take separation seriously, but have broken from what they consider to be a defective group.

So, as I have looked around the past few years it has forced me to admit that there are men who are committed to separatism that don’t practice it exactly like I do—both within and outside of my normal circle of fellowship. A lot of latitude was granted to those with the fundamentalist label to make their own decisions about fellowship, provided they stayed roughly inside the label boundary, even if that label was no longer appropriate. Latitude to cross the label boundary was not extended, even if the man or ministry actually lined up better with what a separatist fundamentalist ought to be like. If the basis of fellowship is what we share in common, then lining up on sound doctrine, ministerial practice, and commitment to defend the faith means more than professing oneself to be a fundamentalist. Actually being one means more than claiming to be one. At least, that’s what I think.

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Refections IV

This series is a “wrap it up and then move on” series, so it of necessity is picking up themes and ideas about which I’ve written and said a lot over the years, especially the past few. In some ways that is good because it is very hard to crack through pre-conceived ideas. The most stubborn of those is the equation of fundamentalism with separatism in a way that immediately concludes that questioning the former ipso facto questions the latter. That would only be true, though, if all who claim to be fundamentalists were actually separatists (a point that hardly any fundamentalists would admit) and if all who claim to be separatists also claimed the label fundamentalist (something, for instance, that someone like Kent Brandenburg doesn’t do, but who could deny that Kent’s a separatist?)

To argue that fundamentalism took the right position in the early and mid 20th century is not a point of debate with me. They did. It is 2011 though, not 1921 or 1961. My simple contentions are that: (1) there is, at this stage of history, no fundamentalism, but a number of fundamentalisms, each with their own shibboleths; (2) almost every effort to reclaim fundamentalism has been an effort to impose a different set of shibboleths on the movement; (3) many serious minded separatists find that they fail the shibboleth tests that have been imposed by many of the subset movements; (4) the idea of being asked to be committed to something that won’t fellowship with you anyway is just plain ridiculous; and (5) most of the shibboleths, while perhaps well-intentioned, are over-extended applications designed like fences to prevent a future disobedience somewhere down the line.

Let me unpack that last one a little bit. Building fences in advance of trouble is a good thing. I am not opposed to these kinds of fences at all—I think there is biblical warrant for looking ahead to where trouble is and avoiding it (cf. Pro 22:3). Building a fence to prevent us from getting into trouble is good, but the tension for us is how far away from the potential for trouble do we build the fence. Our answer to that question is tied to our view of slippery slopes, i.e., where is the point where a slide toward the cliff becomes virtually irresistible (although I know most fundamentalists don’t like words like irresistible!)? The dominant view seems to be that you can’t be too safe, so build high, strong fences as far away from trouble as possible.

I don’t agree with that mindset. You actually can build the fence so far back from trouble that you end up in trouble on the other side—think of the Pharisees not receiving sinners and eating with them or having rigid rules about hand washing that missed the point about real defilement. The goal isn’t to build your fence the farthest away. The goal is obedience to Christ and fences are a servant to that goal. Remember, fences work like this: In order not to fall or slide over that cliff, we will build the fence right here. The cliff is where disobedience is and the fence is intended to keep you from falling over it (or even starting to slide toward it). If the fence keeps getting pushed back until the cliff can barely be seen, then it will stop functioning effectively, and a fence that far back cannot be defended as the only right and proper place for a fence.

Yet, in many ways that’s exactly where we are—debating the placement of the fence and willing to break fellowship again over differences about it. I am not advocating extending Christian fellowship to those who have denied the faith. I am not advocating toleration of those who do it. Just the opposite, in fact. I am advocating that these very specific questions be the ones that govern our decision making. Those questions are the baseline for fellowship and cooperation. A lot more matters to me than these, but anything other than the right answers here prevents it. The circle of people that can answer these questions satisfactorily is not limited to self-professing fundamentalists. IOW, there are separatists who don’t claim to be fundamentalists. My fellowship is limited to those self-professing fundamentalists who are genuine separatists and also other genuine separatists even if they don’t call themselves fundamentalists.

That last sentence prompts the real question of the hour—will the self-professing fundamentalists build a fence that excludes people who won’t limit their fellowship to only those who claim the label of fundamentalism? Is that label so tied to the essence of the biblical position that to not wear it means you fall on the wrong side of the fence? If so, is that a fence that can be defended biblically and practically?

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Reflections III

An important element of my views regarding fundamentalism, evangelicalism, and the matter of ecclesiastical separation is my own personal history. As I’ve already tried to detail, the rethinking of applications that I felt compelled to do in the middle of the last decade has deep roots. I’ve recounted some of the factors connected to that from the 1990s, but it honestly goes farther back than that. Virtually my entire Christian life has been joined to Inter-City Baptist Church (ICBC). I came to Christ here as an 8 year old boy; I attended our Christian school from 3rd grade through graduation; since college I have served on staff here for all but four of the last 28 years, and for 22 of those years I’ve been the senior pastor. Even during the four years I was on staff at another church, I was working on my M.Div. and Th.M. at Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary, a ministry of ICBC.

Also, I had the same pastor from the time I was saved until I succeeded him in the pastorate here. He was a godly and gifted leader who had earned a Th.D. from Grace Theological Seminary back in the late 1940s. Dr. Rice was truly a visionary leader who was on the front edge of the Christian school movement and a well-respected pastor whom God used to do incredible things. He was very conservative, but I cannot recall ever hearing him blast anybody from the pulpit and he certainly did not run in the circles of those who did. He did not care for showboats. He just preached the Word and led the church.

What does all that have to do with my view of fundamentalism? When I left for college, ICBC was all I knew about church and fundamentalism, although I doubt that I could have told you what the latter even was. I had never even been on a Christian college campus until I left to go to BJU. I had been to the Wilds for camp a couple of times, but it was actually during our church’s week—the last week of the summer was Inter-City week and we had it virtually to ourselves (the camp was still pretty new at that point). I knew of no preachers except the ones who had preached in our church or I had heard at camp. So, when I arrived at college in the fall of 1979 amidst the whole pseudo-fundamentalism flap with Jerry Falwell, it was quite a shock to my system. I had never heard men and ministries publicly denounced from the pulpit (as mainly guest preachers, for some reason, apparently thought it necessary to do). I could share very vivid recollections of pathetic diatribes passed off as sermons, but the real point is to say that what I was hearing was not what I had heard at home. And it was also a sharp contrast from what I was being taught to do in my ministry and homiletics classes.

I graduated from college and headed off to seminary at DBTS. I was committed to biblical separatism—the kind I had been taught, but not the kind that I was seeing so often practiced away from the church I grew up in. My heart yearned for a theologically sound and expositionally driven kind of ministry that took seriously God’s command about contending for the Faith. Thankfully, God was putting me in touch with people who shared that burden. Some of the rancor of the late 70s and early 80s seemed to be fading away, and as I assumed the pastorate at IC in 1989 I was hopeful that a better day was coming.

I’ve already chronicled part of the story regarding my disappointment with the theological weakness of fundamentalism—that doctrinal matters which concerned me didn’t seem to concern the larger circle, and that I was struggling with the indifference toward these problems which was evident. Another significant part of that story is seen by looking at it from the other side. The folks I thought were on my side of those debates were downplaying these issues, but the folks on the other side were doing anything but that. I’ve alluded to some of the efforts to discredit DBTS or me, but I’d like to give that a little more focus because it is germane to the overall theme I’m developing.

The stuff that has happened really means nothing to me personally—I can’t recall one person whose opinion mattered to me that has spoken ill of me or the work here. I take 1 Corinthians 4:1-5 very seriously and, by God’s grace, hope to live without regard for human judgment. I’ve got a great family, a wonderful congregation to serve, and none of the criticism that has come from outside of our church changes that at all. If I were only a pastor, I would gladly have ignored it all and just kept moving forward with our church. In God’s will, however, I’m also connected to a seminary that trains men for gospel ministry, some of whom are burdened to plant churches in the States and around the world for Christ’s name. Those men are affected by the dishonest attacks on their seminary and by the widespread doctrinal nonsense that has plagued fundamentalism over the past 30+ years.

Think about this all from that perspective for a minute. A godly, gifted young man graduates from DBTS with a desire to plant a church in the US, so he begins the process of pursuing that burden. His home church is prepared to send him out, but: (1) though his desire, affirmed by his sending church, is to use a newer translation, the mission agencies all have a policy that requires using the KJV, not because of theological conviction, but political expediency; (2) he is facing a serious uphill battle for approval with a mission agency because a number of the board members have been prejudiced against him because of things they’ve heard about his seminary; and (3) once he begins the deputation process he constantly runs into closed doors because the air has been poisoned against him by the likes of D. A. Waite, PCC, and a whole host of others from within his own supposed circle of fellowship.

Even when this brother approaches men who would supposedly stand exactly where he does in terms of biblical separation, the door is closed. Why? Not because of differences on ecclesiastical separation, but because of a bunch of other issues. In other words, the fact that he professes to be a fundamentalist really doesn’t mean much at all. Of course, churches are free to choose whom they will support—no problem with that at all. Here’s where the rub is, though. This same brother, while looking for support, comes across some churches that agree with him on basically everything—separation, theological commitments, philosophy of ministry—but they don’t wear the label of fundamentalism. Those churches, in fact, do want to support him because they are committed to the same things he is.

Now he is in a quandary. The brand name fundamentalist churches that won’t support him will label him a compromiser if he accepts the support on the non-brand name fundamentalist churches. Does he give up a meaningless, worthless fellowship with people who don’t accept him to gain the fellowship of likeminded brothers who will? Doesn’t that question almost answer itself?

Let’s remove the support question and ask it like this, “Does he give up the meaningless, worthless fellowship of people who disagree with what he holds dear in order to gain the fellowship of likeminded brothers who will welcome him on the basis of what they mutually hold dear?” Seriously, until you’ve walked into the “fellowship meeting” and had men turn their backs when you come in, you probably can’t answer that question. Until you’ve walked up to warm greetings and walked away only to have knives stuck in your back, you don’t really comprehend the gravity of that question.

Now, for me, I really could care less because I walk back to a great church blessed by God with enormous resources and a full staff of men with whom I can enjoy fellowship. I wake up most Tuesday mornings and get to spend all morning teaching seminarians who love the Word and are headed out to serve Christ. In other words, I’ve got it made ministerially. I don’t need the acceptance of anybody out there. But God has put me in a place where there are real men with a real burden to spread the gospel of Christ and plant churches around the world, and those men need and want real fellowship—the kind of fellowship that surrounds shared convictions and commitments and that helps carry the burden of ministry. As much as I hate to say it, the vestigial organs of fundamentalism aren’t about those things anymore. They are about preserving themselves by distinguishing themselves from all of the other self-professing fundamentalisms.

What do you do if you want theologically centered fellowship that works itself out in Great Commission ministry? You look for people who agree with you on what matters and you partner together for God’s glory and the advance of the gospel. And when you realize that a lot of the people who wear the same label you do really don’t agree with you and won’t partner with you, then you slowly realize that the label has lost its purpose and value. Then, fearing the loss of what matters to you, you determine to neither abandon nor assume those truths, but to make them explicitly the basis of your fellowship and cooperation. IOW, instead of asking, “Are you a fundamentalist?” you will ask, “Do you believe and practice these truths?”

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Reflections II

I am working on a string of posts which attempt to explain why I began re-thinking the application portion of what I believe about biblical separation. The first post attempted to give more detail to one crystallizing moment for me and explain a little of why it was pivotal. To put it in a nutshell, while nobody seemed to disagree with my description of the roots and realities of fundamentalist fragmentation, there was no consensus or commitment to a theologically centered remedy. Please note very well that we are talking about fundamentalism, not any of the institutions represented at the meeting. I firmly believe that all of the institutions were committed to strong theological convictions. My point is not about the individual institutions or particular branches of fundamentalism. It is about the whole enchilada.

Recognizing that is critical to my overall point. Why did I begin to rethink the application process? One significant element was the continuing fragmentation among self-professing fundamentalists that produced subset after subset that claimed to be the true heirs of fundamentalism. Since some of those subsets were sub-orthodox in their doctrine and practice, my hope was to see those with roots in the historic mainstream rally around our theological convictions and mark ourselves off from the Johnny-come-lately types who kept adding things to the fundamentals. If there was no heart to do that, that meant, or at least suggested, that: (1) there would be no deliberate effort to pull away from these deformed branches of fundamentalism; (2) it would continue to send a mixed message about separation to the men who are preparing for ministry; and (3) the label fundamentalist would continue to deteriorate as a meaningful label for determining ministerial cooperation. In this post, I’ll start in on that first point.

I’ve spoken of things coming to a head for me in the middle of the last decade, and by that I am speaking mainly about the repeated controversy I found myself in with other self-professing fundamentalists. I’ll quickly confess that I was a willing participant in most of these—they were connected to doctrinal matters that I considered very important. One of the great blessings of my present pastoral ministry is that it is connected to a seminary, but having a seminary also draws the negative attention of people who don’t like what you teach. As the seminary’s influence expanded, so did the amount of criticism directed at it and those of us associated with it. That’s really quite understandable. What was disappointing to me was the lack of ethics and courage that so often was evident—private correspondence turned into a booklet that was being sold; letters sent behind my back to call for my removal from speaking engagements, while maintaining a feigned friendship to my face; whisper campaigns. Supposedly valiant defenders of the faith were too often cowardly weasels who loved to say things behind people’s backs that they’d never have the courage to say to their faces. I know that may sound harsh, but sadly it’s true.

As disappointing as this was, my view of what the Bible teaches about depravity kept me from being too surprised by it. People are sinners, and sinners do things like this. The part that I’ve never been able to accept, though, is the toleration of aberrant doctrine. Denying, for instance, the full humanity of Jesus Christ under the banner of zeal for “the Blood and the Book” is completely unacceptable—if Jesus Christ did not have human blood, He was not fully human (Heb 2:14); if He was not fully human, then He could not make atonement for our sins (Heb 2:17-18); if we deny that He came as fully human, then we have denied apostolic doctrine (1 Jn 4:1-6). This is a theological error of the first magnitude. It cannot be accepted and it should never be tolerated. It was, however, not only being tolerated, but actually promoted in certain quarters. By the end of 2005, I had spent more than a decade and half arguing that if we are serious about sound doctrine, we have to do something.

In the middle of the 1990s, the translation issue blew up. Obviously, a fight over that issue had been developing for a long time, but Jack Hyles and PCC raised the stakes in the spring of 1996. Hyles had conveniently changed his view to KJVO and was trying to write everybody else out of fundamentalism. PCC, not to be run out easily, sent Dell Johnson out to let everybody know that they really were on the KJV side of the debate. It’s hard to say which of the PCC videos was the most pathetic, but thinking about Dell and his “hiss of the serpent” nonsense still gives me the creeps. Once PCC got blowback because of the first video, the fight was on—the Hortons weren’t going to be forced to back down by the BJU denomination! It is hard to top the stupidity of the “Leaven in Fundamentalism” video—somehow I had infected DBTS even though the seminary had held the same text view for 13 years before I came into any leadership position. Think about what was happening here. One of the pillar doctrines of the Faith, biblical inspiration, was being used as a marketing tool by both Hyles and PCC. That makes it doubly offensive—the doctrinal error is compounded by the deceptiveness of their methods. There should have been no toleration of this. None.

That’s the rub for me. Granted, letters were written; resolutions were passed; and even a video was made. But at the end of the day, too many people wanted the translation issue to just go back away. Instead of resolving it, the mood was to sweep it back under the carpet so that there would not be unnecessary division over it. This became absolutely clear to me in the summer of 2001. That summer, Dr. Mark Minnick preached an excellent message at the FBF Annual Meeting entitled “The Supremacy of God in Preaching.” Great sermon. At one point in the message, Dr. Minnick paused to share a concern of his regarding the translation issue, namely, that some people seemed intent on taking away our liberty to use the original languages to bring clarity to the explanation of the English translation. He was referring to the common preacher kind of statement that goes something like, “Another way to translate this would be…” or “Perhaps a better translation of this would be…” It would seem to me that only the hardcore KJVO position could disagree with this—you have to be a virtual Ruckmanite, it seems, to give the English translation priority over the original languages! That’s why I was absolutely stunned that there was criticism of Dr. Minnick’s message by folks in the FBF. A very influential person in the FBF expressed concern to me about the fact that Mark had addressed the translation issue at all—his words were something like, “I thought we were at the point where we laid down our swords about those issues before we come together.” My reply: when has the other side ever laid down their swords?

I could add more doctrinal controversies, but I think I’ve said enough to illustrate my point. For sake of clarity, though, let me make my point very clear: by 2005 I was becoming convinced that: (a) the doctrinal matters that matter to me were apparently not doctrinal concerns for Fundamentalism; and (b) the tendency toward doctrinal indifference on these matters was not something with which I was comfortable.

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Reflecting on Applications

The blog has been pretty quiet for a while now. Part of that is simply the nature of life and ministry currently—it’s a busy season right now. The more significant reason, I think, is the combination of feeling I need to say something about the ecclesiastical landscape while, frankly, being tired of saying things about the ecclesiastical landscape. Well, I’ve got about two weeks until I leave for vacation, so I’m aiming to wrap up my contributions to the discussion by then so I can move along to other matters. Perhaps I should be more specific—“the discussion” to which I am referring is about fundamentalism, evangelicalism, and the relationship between these two. That seems to be the hot issue right now. I feel like I need to address this because: (a) I’ve been very vocal in asserting that I don’t believe those labels (fundamentalism, evangelicalism) are very helpful in determining ministerial fellowship anymore; (b) it seems safe that my view is disturbing to some folks, including some friends (and their concern matters to me); (c) some people seem determined to start a new internecine war over these things; and (d) I’ve made some public comments that probably need elaboration and/or clarification. I’d like to start working on that fourth point today.

During the first panel discussion at the Advancing the Church Conference in Lansdale, I made a comment about the need to make fresh applications of biblical principles or we will find ourselves walking away from the principles themselves. I also expressed concern about the fossilization of our applications. That led to a question about what prompted me to rethink my applications of biblical principles regarding separation. As is the nature of panel discussions, I needed to give a compact answer to a large question, so I pinpointed the middle of the last decade as a point where a number of things came to a head for me. Because we were talking about applications, I referred to issues both internal and external to the circles of my normal fellowship. I gave one example from both—a meeting of educational leaders in which a discussion happened about drawing some theological boundaries for our kind of fundamentalism and my interaction with Phil Johnson over the “Dead Right” presentation he made at the 2005 Shepherds Conference. Regarding the former, it became clear to me that something that I felt was a necessary thing wasn’t going to happen. In contrast, Phil acknowledged something publicly about “secondary separation” that, at least to me, hadn’t been readily apparent previously.

I plan to unpack my larger point regarding changing within and without over the next few posts, but here I’ll just add some more color to my point about the meeting of educational leaders. I’ve mentioned this before on the blog, but in February of 2005 I did two presentations at the annual meeting of the American Association of Christian Colleges and Seminaries—one on the fragmenting of Fundamentalism and one on the practical side of making separation decisions. As part of the presentation on the fragmentation in Fundamentalism, I contended that Fundamentalist unity will probably only be achieved if there is a clear animating reason for existence, and that the two options for such a reason would seem to be either activist or doctrinal. IOW, it could be a movement around accomplishing something or around believing something. Further, my view was that given our historic roots as a theological movement and the present state of everybody already having their own activity centers, the wisest course of action would be doctrinal (vs. activist). In addition, I argued that the toleration of theological aberrations was not only severely damaging our credibility, but prevented any real unity for action anyways.

It became clear to me that mine was not the prevailing view and that what I hoped and worked toward for some time was not going to happen. In many ways I understand this completely—my proposal would have been difficult to implement and would have inevitably led to some level of conflict. I fault no one for disagreeing with me, though I was surprised at the lack of participation in such an important discussion. Basically, two of us with differing perspectives engaged in a conversation about while others mainly watched. Given the circumstances, it seemed obvious to me: (1) that a significant number of the most influential people within fundamentalism were less interested in a theological reformation of fundamentalism than I was; and (2) that my growing sense that a genuine reformation was not going to happen was in fact accurate. I’ll say more about that phrase “growing sense” later, but for now I’ll just remind you that I said things were coming to a head, not starting, in 2005.

Being the stubborn man that I am, I didn’t quit making my case for a theologically centered fundamentalism. I did a presentation a few months later at the 2005 Faculty Summit entitled “A Fresh Attempt at Identifying the Fundamentals” and a workshop at our 2005 Fall conference entitled “The Gospel and the Boundaries of Fundamentalism” (as well as another one entitled “Christian Liberty and Ecclesiastical Separation”). Later posts will address why this matter was so important to me and what impact preparing for these presentations had on my thinking, but the basic point now is that I was coming to the conclusion that whatever remained of a fundamentalist movement was not mainly held together by shared theological convictions. That is not to say that there were not shared theological convictions, but that these convictions were not the animating force. In fact, there seemed to be some fear that articulating strong theological convictions would divide the movement. To me, in many ways, that was the handwriting on the wall.

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