There has been much talk lately about “the resurgence of evangelical social concern.” I believe that some real changes are taking place in the world of evangelical social concern, and I rejoice in it. But I also feel compelled to raise some critical questions.
I see hopeful signs, but I confess to being a bit skeptical about certain claims put forth by evangelical apologists. There isn’t much evidence yet that evangelicals have become more than mildly concerned about matters of justice.
I have no trouble believing the reports that the signing of the Chicago Declaration was a truly traumatic experience for some leaders in the evangelical movement. What had been said timidly for some years is now spoken with a directness and a bluntness which suddenly make it sound like a new message altogether! And the old question will inevitably come to the fore: for how many people do church leaders speak when they begin to speak out on matters that are considered controversial among their constituents?
The Chicago Declaration may well set the stage for a new era of evangelical social concern. But only if the signing of the document is followed by a new style of leadership. Until now, evangelical leaders, who have never made a secret of their passion for souls, have generally given the impression that any passion for social justice which existed among them was kept pretty well under control. There has been little evidence of a sense of urgency.
When issues of justice were at stake, evangelical leaders often came across more like politicians than like fiery prophets. Usually there was an admission that, yes indeed, injustices do exist; they are to be deplored, and Christians ought to help change such unfortunate conditions. The sounds of a man like Amos were scarcely heard in the evangelical social message.
The sinfulness of social sins is openly granted; the uneasiness of many consciences is professed, but the forcefulness and forthrightness in language which so often characterize evangelical witness are strangely lacking when such matters are addressed. The impression is therefore created that in certain areas of life a cautious gradualism, rather than conversion and radical change, is about the best that can be expected from the power of grace.
I am well aware of the difficulties involved in confronting people with controversial issues, and I realize that evangelical leaders are frequently motivated by a pastoral and priestly concern when dealing with these matters. People need time to become accustomed to new ways; trying to shock them into the ways of justice can be a counter-productive thing. And so forth and so on! But, we hardly ought to be at ease in Zion when prophetic fire is reserved for the realms of drinking, sex, and gambling, while priestly concern prevails when dealing with those who commit acts of injustice.
Billy Graham has indicated that he can identify with most of the Chicago Declaration. He has also made it quite clear that he feels called of God to be a New Testament evangelist, not an Old Testament prophet. I hardly feel inclined to argue with a person’s perception of his or her calling. I do believe, however, that it would be a great tragedy for the church if such a distinction were to be adopted as a general principle of biblical interpretation or as a guideline for witness in today’s society. Among the cloud of witnesses that surround us are believers who have combined the two roles with blessed results. John Wesley is a prime example.
I am certainly not trying to minimize the contribution of evangelicals to a great variety of social ministries. Splendid work has been done in such areas as charity, rescue missions, and prison ministries. But we should not talk too jubilantly about a resurgence in evangelical social concern until the evangelical voice is heard much more clearly and strongly on the agonizing issues of justice in our nation and the world at large.
I do not have a formula to offer. Leaders in the conciliar movement have done it their way. I am not enamored enough with many of the pronouncements they have produced to simply say, “Go and do likewise.” Yet the indisputable fact remains: these people did take the risk of speaking out, often quite bluntly, quite forcefully, and at times quite effectively. As a matter of fact, the new stirrings in evangelical circles about social issues are undoubtedly in part the result of the witness and work of the conciliar movement. By the same token, it seems obvious that the new emphasis on evangelism in so-called mainline churches has been substantially influenced by the evangelical movement.
My second concern has to do with the simplistic schemes we use to put each other in boxes. Much of the talk about evangelicals and liberals sounds so unproblematical and so neat, as if we are dealing with two easily distinguishable parties: “we” and “they.” In reality, however, things usually don’t fit that neatly. In the real world one constantly runs into people who one would swear are evangelical liberals or liberal evangelicals, all depending on which definitions one selects from the rich variety available. We are offered by Robert D. Linder’s essay in The Evangelicals a working definition which places within the evangelical orbit “those who accept biblical authority, the saviorhood and lordship of Jesus Christ, and the necessity of spiritual regeneration.” That umbrella seems large enough to cover a considerable number of people who are usually not counted among the evangelical camp.
In my contacts with evangelicals I often feel that a lot of us are being lumped together as unmistakably belonging to “them” -- to a glob-like mix called “mainstream ecumenical liberalism.” True, I serve as an executive of a so-called mainline denomination with offices located in New York. In my theological orientation I accept certain aspects of biblical criticism but by and large consider myself about as liberal as Helmut Thielicke whom I usually find counted among the okay crowd of evangelicals.
If all this adds up to “mainstream ecumenical liberalism,” so be it. But, what’s so unevangelical about it?
Perhaps we will eventually come up with more suitable designations, with nomenclatures that are more true to real life where most people don’t live in neat little boxes but constantly cross the boundaries of the schemes in which we tend to put each other. In the meantime, it would seem best not to overplay the “we-they” game.
After all, many of the people one meets in the circles of “mainstream ecumenical liberalism” are not the sons and daughters of the old modernists; they are the children of evangelicals who have left in disillusionment. They left because they no longer could stand the social irrelevance which, as evangelicals now so eloquently proclaim, marked the movement since the 1920s.
I suspect that a survey of the leadership of mainline churches would show that a remarkably large number of them come from conservative evangelical backgrounds. In some cases this may have contributed to a subsequent “reaction mentality” which in true pendulum swing fashion manifests itself in a one-sided social action orientation. Many of us, however, while resisting any suggestion that we ought to come “home” to the past, are quite open to a resurgent evangelical radicalism which points to the future.
It is my hunch (and my hope!) that a “biblical radicalism” is emerging which will render many of our old distinctions and disputes quite irrelevant. After all, any “liberal” who becomes part of such a movement can expect to be called a “fundamentalist” by people of mainline minds, while “evangelicals” will soon find themselves labeled as “liberals” or something worse than that. But what does all that really matter as long as signs of the power of the kingdom of God are manifested in the world?
When this article appeared, Isaac Rottenberg was the Secretary for Program Interpretation for the Reformed Church in America.
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