In 1994 Mark Noll, then the McManis Professor of Christian Thought at Wheaton College, published The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind. Chapter One, sentence one: “The scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is not much of an evangelical mind.” Noll spends the rest of the book examining why the evangelical mind was so flaccid. Noll defines fundamentalism as a subset of evangelicalism and the preeminent source of the ailments which Noll believed had sapped evangelicalism of its intellectual vigor. Noll is right.
This accusation is cod liver oil to the fundamentalist. We splutter quick rebuttals, asserting that fundamentalism has long encouraged the life of the mind. We point to the fundamentalist defense of orthodox Christianity. Noll does not neglect those virtues. He readily acknowledges the vital role fundamentalists played in preserving doctrinal orthodoxy, yet he simultaneously identifies a current of anti-intellectualism, one which we often overlook, within fundamentalism.
I think now is a good time to remind ourselves that fundamentalism is a historical movement. We certainly ought to thank God for graciously using fundamentalism to preserve orthodox doctrine from corrosion, but that acknowledgement does not make fundamentalism equivalent to Biblicism. Fundamentalism is a movement of men and women which is rooted in a discrete place and time and has been heavily influenced by a variety of cultural influences.
While most fundamentalists would agree with the above statement, we are still loathe to admit that our ideology may not always arise prima facie from the Scriptures. We place the highest priority on the Scriptures as the inspired Word of God and use that Word as a lamp to guide our path. Yet our emphasis on the Word as the sina qua non of our faith can also discourage us from looking for truth elsewhere. The thought process unfolds like this, “Since God’s Word is perfect, why look elsewhere? All other truth is inferior.” At its most extreme, this train of logic discourages fundamentalists from properly valuing the arts and sciences as repositories of truth and beauty. I am reminded of a visit I made to a church in California pastored by a graduate of Hyles-Anderson College. After the service, while chatting with a number of the high school kids in the youth group, I realized that each of the college bound kids was planning to study for the full-time ministry. When they found out that I was studying history and political science they were visibly discomfited. In their minds something had to be wrong with me. Someone whose heart is right with the Lord would’ve chosen to be a Bible major, right?
This lengthy introduction leads up to the presupposition that ought to belong at the base of every fundamentalist’s historical philosophy: all truth is God’s truth. God, in His infinite wisdom, created a world that reflects His glory. “The heavens declare the glory of God.” Like every other part of God’s creation, we exist to point to Him. We can accomplish this task not only by studying the Scriptures, sharing the gospel, and worshipping in a church, but also by driving a truck, looking through a microscope, composing a concerto, and writing a history book. We make much of God by looking for and finding Him wherever we are and in whatever we do. For the historian, then, history becomes an act of worship, a holy vocation. When we examine historical events and bring to life historical figures we are uttering an “Amen.” This is why we study history.
Thankfully, the fundamentalist school in which I was educated, Bob Jones University, has a tradition of not separating the sacred from the secular. The school’s founder, Bob Jones Sr., often said, “For a Christian, life is not divided into the secular and the sacred. To him all ground is holy ground, every bush is a burning bush, and every place a temple of worship.” I’ll paraphrase that statement for the historian: “all history is God’s history.” Bob Jones College was designed to be a liberal arts institution where all students would be trained to appreciate culture, find beauty in the arts, and diligently study the Scriptures. Shakespeare, opera, and film were an integral part of this expression of fundamentalism. I cannot underemphasize how deep this perception of what constitutes truth pervades my intellectual DNA. On this foundational level there ought to be no tension between the fundamentalist and the historian.
So far I’ve explained why a Christian chooses to study history. On some other occasion I might take a stab at defining a uniquely Christian historiography, the “how” of history. But the purpose of this series is to explain mine and Lincoln’s philosophy of history. A historian’s philosophy of history is the ideological framework that informs their research and interpretation. For the Christian historian our ideological framework is our theology; what we believe about God shapes how we think about history.
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Part Two will be posted July 19th.
Paul, I have had similar experiences with Fundamentalists who are afraid of secular schooling. When I decided to go to college for the first time (in my late thirties) I was actually told by one older Christian man, “You don’t want to go to a secular school. You want to go to a Chrisian college.” My response was, as you said, “All truth is God’s truth.” I (hope) and am old enough and wise enough (by the grace of God) to discern the truth of God from error. Most Philosophies and false religions are built upon a core of real God-Truth; thus they can still be beneficial to me in my life and studies. Also, we do not live in a box, we live in a secular nation within a world in rebellion; if we are to witness to unbelievers a thorough saving knowledge of the Bible and true Theology is important, but so also an understanding of History, Philosophy, other religions, etc. (as well as Science and Math for the people who enjoy those kinds of things). God can use these things to bridge the gap between us and others. If enough Christians undertake deeper learning on these subjects, perhaps one day the idea of the Fundamentalist who knows nothing of the world will disappear. Steve
Thanks for your comment Steve. I’m reminded of a witnessing opportunity that opened to me on a high school missions trip to NYC. The gentleman that I sat next to on the subway was a recent immigrant from Algeria and was reticent to talk to me because “Americans don’t understand my people.” But after I spent several minutes discussing Algerian current events with the man he was willing to listen to the gospel. God can use our knowledge of natural revelation for His glory and to advance His kingdom.