What Does It Mean to Be Evangelical?

Brandon Washington opens chapter one of A Burning House: Redeeming American Evangelicalism by Examining Its History, Mission, and Message with these words, “I am an evangelical—an assertion rife with complexities. With each passing day, it grows more taxing, but I am unmoved.”

The complexities that Washington addresses involve some of the unchecked attitudes and behaviors in American evangelicalism and the public's perception of the term “evangelism.” As a pastor of preaching and vision at The Embassy Church in Denver, Washington’s critique of evangelicalism comes from an evangelical who is fiercely committed to the gospel. 

As with any legitimate discussion or criticism of evangelicalism, the challenge is ensuring that the term is well defined. Without a clear definition, evangelical has come to mean many different things to many different people. Washington goes out of his way to provide a thoughtful and clear definition of the movement. 

The following post is adapted from A Burning House. 

The difficulties with defining evangelicalism

Defining evangelicalism according to what it is not has led only to theological and missional rabbit trails—aimless debates regarding the movement’s identity. Studying the genuine article is vastly more productive. Like an authentic bill, evangelicalism has markers that make it recognizable, so we must orient our eyes toward them. Our missional identity cannot be an educated guess.

Much of the disdain for evangelicalism results from repeatedly shifting the movement’s values. We have so corrupted the term that non-evangelicals now sincerely claim it. [1] In America, “evangelical” is in a prison of ambiguity. We use it often, but its meaning and values are furtive. The term now provokes a bitter taste in the mouths of disillusioned Christians. Noting this, Carl F. H. Henry writes,

Several opposing schools of thought vie for the use of the term evangelical. Appropriation of the word by those who do not hold to its biblical and historical content has caused some hesitancy on the part of those who hold to the doctrines of revealed Christianity as to its proper use. They fear misunderstanding of their theological position. [2]

Henry observed that many evangelicals steer clear of the term because it is blemished by impostors who use it as a cloak. He penned these words in 1957, but he may as well have published them this morning. We are not noticing an abrupt missional shift that lay dormant for decades only to rouse in our lifetime. Instead, it is a generations-long debate over who we are and what we value.

Instead of sifting aimlessly through a mass of potential definitions, we should heed the testimonies of credible historians and theologians. This method provides insight into the movement’s history, mission, and message; it underlines evangelicalism’s distinctiveness. For me, knowing the markers before delving into the history proved vital; it assisted in appreciating the story of the mission drift. While several historians and theologians played a role in this process of definition, David Bebbington, Timothy Larson, and Alistair McGrath took the lead.

Defining evangelicalism with Bebbington’s Quadrilateral 

David Bebbington offered four markers that have long served as a trustworthy checklist. [3] According to Bebbington, an evangelical is someone who prioritizes:

1. Conversionism—the belief that lives need to be changed;
2. Activism—the expression of the gospel in effort;
3. Biblicism—a particular regard for the Bible;
4. Crucicentrism—a stress on the sacrifice of Christ on the cross. [4]

Conscious evangelicals laud these priorities, dubbed “Bebbington’s Quadrilateral,” as foundational. Mark Noll, an evangelical historian, called it “the most serviceable general definition . . . for the purposes of the history of Christianity.” [5] I am inclined to use the word description over definition, but Dr. Noll’s appraisal is nonetheless valid. Bebbington did not create the quadrilateral; he codified it. He is a historian observing evangelical markers revealed by history. He did not prescribe evangelical values; he described the movement’s historical values.

In my estimation, Bebbington’s Quadrilateral is exceptional and worthy of respect. In four brief points, Bebbington paints a picture of evangelicalism’s basal essence. It is so good that it summarily indicts our apathy. I am inclined to believe we know this because we’ve circumvented the markers by redefining the terms. Furthermore, we treat them as irrelevant to our context—discounting their implications on the American ethnic rift. I have two suspicions as to why.

First, Bebbington’s Quadrilateral may be too concise—probably because he makes assumptions about his original audience. Perhaps he anticipates they would infer broader theological points from his summary. [6] This assumption is no longer feasible. We are only one generation removed from Bebbington’s work, and in that brief span, we’ve managed to subject his terms to unwarranted revisions. For example, we’ve relegated activism to little more than “getting people saved,” but, historically, it means more than that: the activist seeks worldly wholeness! [7] This would explain why Bebbington lists “conversionism” and “activism” as distinct markers; the former regards gospel conversions, the latter regards gospel actions. Bebbington recognizes the gospel as eternally and temporally relevant. They are both evangelical values upheld by history. Activism is “an energetic, individualistic approach to religious duties and social involvement.” [8] Bebbington avoids confusion by including examples. He writes,

But activism often spilled over from beyond simple gospel work. . . . Shaftesbury’s efforts in such causes as public health provided a further outlet of evangelical energy. Wilberforce’s campaign against the slave trade and Nonconformist political crusades around 1900 are but the most famous instances of attempts to enforce the ethics of the gospel. A host of voluntary societies embodied the philanthropic urge. Hannah More, the evangelical authoress of the turn of the nineteenth century, summed up succinctly the prevailing evangelical attitude. ‘Action is the life of virtue,’ she wrote, ‘and the world is the theater of action.’ [9]

When noting historical examples of activism, Bebbington cites leaders who fought for “public health,” opposed the “slave trade,” and were philanthropic toward the communal good. Evangelical activism sustains the discipleship mandate of Matthew 28:16–20 and the social directive of Matthew 25:31–46. The movement seeks to add to the fold of disciples, and it upholds the present-day, sacrificial “ethics of the gospel.” [10]

We preach a message of heavenly reconciliation and earthly conciliation (Eph. 2:1–22); choosing either at the expense of the other truncates our message. The evangelical identity carries ethical imperatives. The activistic marker has worldly implications. The church is the kingdom’s embassy on earth, so “the world is the theater of action.” [11] Fixation on our eternal destiny with no regard for temporal brokenness is an abdication of a vital evangelical marker.

Second, in the Global West, evangelicalism filters through individualism at the expense of the collective. [12] While we can infer certain assumptions from “conversionism” and “crucicentrism,” Bebbington’s Quadrilateral is silent regarding the church.[13] I maintain that excluding it was an act of intellectual integrity. Bebbington’s historical evaluation of evangelicalism is limited to the era that began in the eighteenth century and culminated in the twentieth century. During that period, evangelicalism emphasized conversions, not the church. It was a revivalist movement embodied by itinerate preachers like George Whitefield, D. L. Moody, and Billy Graham. [14]

During this era, by and large, the church was not a central marker of the evangelical movement. Decentralizing the church only contributed to the movement’s mission drift. Without the accountability of a global community of kingdom citizens, voices that traverse regions and history, individuals and local churches isolated themselves and incorporated their region’s cultural norms—even when the norms were sinful. [15] Contextualizing the gospel is biblical, but willfully ignoring the voice of the universal church is shortsighted. Evangelical mission drift was all but inevitable.

Using the Larson Pentagon to define evangelicalism

Timothy Larson deferentially builds upon David Bebbington’s work by drafting language cleverly tagged “The Larson Pentagon,” which pays clear homage to Bebbington’s Quadrilateral. [16] Larson avows that an evangelical is:

1. an orthodox Protestant 
2. who stands in the tradition of the global Christian networks arising from the eighteenth-century revival movements associated with John Wesley and George Whitefield;
3. who has a preeminent place for the Bible in her or his Christian life as the divinely inspired, final authority in matters of faith and practice;
4. who stresses reconciliation with God through the atoning work of Jesus on the cross;
5. and who stresses the work of the Holy Spirit in the life of an individual to bring about conversion and an ongoing life of fellowship with God and service to God and others, including the duty of all believers to participate in the task of proclaiming the gospel to all people. [17]

As with Bebbington’s Quadrilateral, conscientious evangelical peers affirm the Larson Pentagon. Larsen has not supplanted Bebbington; his work is a helpful amendment. In my estimation, Larson fills in language that Bebbington could omit a generation ago.

Supplementing Bebbington’s work with Larson’s results in a near-unassailable characterization of historical evangelicalism. Their summaries can stand alone, but together, they are a tour de force! In his first two points, Larsen specifies a lineage of Protestant Christianity, which mitigates the catch-all gaffe mentioned above. From there, the overlap between Bebbington and Larsen is palpable. Larson’s third point affirms biblicism; his fourth point sustains both conversionism and crucicentrism; while carefully identifying the Holy Spirit as the star actor, the fifth point supports conversionism and activism. According to Larsen, evangelicals are Spirit-led, Bible-believing Protestant Christians who serve God and humanity, armed with Christ’s comprehensive gospel message. 

Like Bebbington, Larsen recognizes activism as a key marker. Expounding on this point, he writes,

Evangelicalism is a tradition marked by a mobilized laity as well as a highly energized clergy. This activism has produced a rich tradition of social action, including, for example, the movement in Britain guided by the evangelical William Wilberforce to abolish the slave trade and the work among the poor of the evangelical organization, the Salvation Army. [18]

I wish to be clear: Bebbington and Larsen are not being accusatory. They are simply identifying evangelical markers as revealed by history. Conversely, based on their work, and my observations of American evangelicalism, I am making unambiguous accusations. I maintain that, among American evangelicals, social activism stands out as a selectively orphaned marker. To be sure, we are activistic and vocal regarding issues that align with conservative values (e.g., abortion, traditional marriage). However, by and large, the ongoing racial rift receives a fraction of our activistic fervor. Later, when we consider the evangelical narrative, we will examine why this could occur, but, for now, suffice it to say that social activism is a marker that carries less weight than the others.

On the whole, evangelical churches, with variations, affirm the Bible (biblicism), the significance of the cross (crucicentrism), and the need for human conversion (conversionism). American evangelicals or, more accurately, “fundamentalists” narrowly define these markers, and violators can be stamped with a scarlet letter—dubbed heretics or, at least, “false teachers.” [19] In contrast, the American ethnic rift, which is among America’s longest running social afflictions, carries less weight. [20]

Evangelical as a word and kingdom people

Bebbington’s Quadrilateral and Larsen’s Pentagon are overlapping lists of values, but there is no universal confession of faith. We need an overarching characteristic, a theological north star shared by all evangelicals to keep us on a common course. Blessedly, there is no need to invent one; the theological plumbline already exists.

The word evangelical derives from the Greek term euangelion, which means “good news.” [21] First-semester Greek students know that appealing to a term’s etymology has potential failings. The passage of time nuances—or outright changes—a word’s meaning. However, I maintain that euangelion experienced no significant change; it is often tethered to the biblical concept of “good news” or “gospel.” [22] So, etymologically, evangelical still refers to a person, institution, or movement of the gospel. [23]

The gospel is the fruit of Christ’s incarnation, extraordinary life, death, resurrection, and ascension. He is not merely alive; he is presently seated at the Father’s right hand (Eph. 1:20)! We woefully overlook his reign, but it is essential to the gospel. His present-tense reign as king is our theological north star, our defining marker. Christ’s kingdom is the overarching characteristic through which we must filter evangelicalism.

When I use the word evangelical, I refer to an orthodox Christian worldview—a framework of theological ideas with corresponding affections and practices, and they are all subject to Christ! Evangelicals are citizens of an eternal monarchy with no geographical borders. We are diverse and united in our eternal residency. Christ’s dominion frames our theology and practices. His reign is the nitty-gritty of the euangelion. If the gospel is central to the movement, then the kingdom, the culmination of the gospel, is paramount. The kingdom of God overrules sinful partiality, oppression, or indifference to human suffering (Luke 4:16–21). A movement that is not Christocentric is decidedly not evangelical (Rev. 2:4; 19:11–12, 16)!

We overlook Christ’s current reign as an essential aspect of the good news (evangel). [24] While conceding that his enthronement is inevitable, we behave as though he has not yet been crowned. I am not inclined to find theological controversies under every rock. Still, I must avoid ambiguity here: acting as though Christ is not presently king is an abject error, a debasement of the gospel (Col. 1:15–20). [25] Presently, we are the king’s ambassadors (2 Cor. 5:16–21). [26] Hence, activism, the embodiment of his kingdom’s values, is an evangelical imperative. Because he reigns, we are activists commissioned to engage the world and proliferate the kingdom’s holy culture (Matt. 28:16–20). We will not accomplish this before he returns, so we preach a message of eternal hope. But in the meantime, we persist in bringing the kingdom agenda to earth. As evangelicals, our mission includes conversionism and activism.

So what exactly is an evangelical? 

When I identify as evangelical, I am not championing the popular brand. On the contrary, I contend that the present form of American evangelicalism is an unsafe, reactionary caricature of the real thing. We’ve shaped the movement in a cultural image rather than aligning ourselves biblically and surrendering to the kingdom (Mark 1:15). Our infraction can be overturned through theological retrieval—revisiting our core values. I cannot improve upon Gavin Ortlund’s take:

Sometimes the best way to go forward is, paradoxically, to go backward. This is true in solving math problems, executing military operations, navigating relational conflict, and (here I suggest) doing theology. Contemporary evangelical theology can be enriched and strengthened in her current task by going back to retrieve classic theological resources. [27]

A theological reset is difficult. It is an act of repentance that calls us back to long-abandoned seasons of the church. But the heavy lifting is done. The ideas are drafted. We need only reembrace and contextualize deserted values.

In search of solid language, I found solace in Alistair McGrath’s definition of evangelicalism as “the term chosen by evangelicals to refer to themselves, as representing most adequately the central concern of the movement for the safeguarding and articulation of the evangel—the good news of God which has been made known and made possible in Jesus Christ.” [28] McGrath’s definition is admirable; he spotlights “the evangel—the good news.” It is authentically evangelical. Still, it needs real-world characteristics—markers that concretize his language. My take on these markers is not novel because of the careful work of scholars like Bebbington and Larsen. [29] I amend their lists only to spotlight a long, diverse lineage of evangelical stalwarts—a family tree that predates the 1970s by centuries. We should recognize our ethnically and culturally diverse theological foreparents and their holy contributions to the movement. Also, our present dysfunction obliges the recognition of a Christocentric, overarching marker that underscores the kingdom. The amendments in the list below are not mine; they are longstanding descriptions of evangelicalism, retrieved and highlighted out of necessity.

While previous generations could treat these markers as foregone conclusions, it is now necessary to explicitly mention them to combat our mission drift. I avow that an evangelical is:

1. A genuinely confessing Christian
2. who is in the spiritual lineage of figures like John Wesley, Richard Allen, Jarena Lee, Charles Spurgeon, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Francis J. Grimké, and Carl F. H. Henry;
3. who prioritizes the Bible as inspired and authoritative revelation—divine insight regarding God, humanity, the universe, faith, and kingdom practices (biblicism);
4. who stresses the effectual incarnation, life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ (crucicentrism);
5. who recognizes the intervening Holy Spirit as the Lord over Christian conversion, sanctification, and progressive transformation, enthusing sacrificial living for God and fellow human beings, which includes proclaiming the gospel toward eternal salvation andtemporal wholeness (conversionism and activism);
6. and who identifies with the global church, the gathering of the summoned (ecclesia)—communal citizens and stewards in the eternal, boundaryless kingdom where we joyfully serve under Christ’s reign (Christocentric ecclesiology and kingdom ethics).

I long for an evangelicalism instantiated by these six markers. Dare I say it, they are my beloved theological hexagon.

Without the kingdom, we reduce evangelicalism to a bauble of our own making. But under Christ’s reign, these markers serve as our blessed contribution to the missio dei—God’s undefeatable mission to publish his dominion. It fixates on a full-orbed message that orients us toward who we are instead of who we are not. I desire to embody the euangelion, to be a man of the gospel. When I identify as evangelical, this is what I mean. I willfully reject the modern-day caricature, so it is essential at this point for us to look to history. Knowing where we went astray might contribute to a missional course correction.

References:

1. Carl F. H. Henry, Architect of Evangelicalism: Essential Essays of Carl F. H. Henry (Bellis, 2019), 11–16.
2. Henry, Architect of Evangelicalism, 11.
3. Mark Noll, “One Word but Three Crises,” in Evangelicals: Who They Have Been, Are Now, and Could Be, ed. Mark Noll, David W. Bebbington, and George M. Marsden (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2019), 1–9.
4. David W. Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (London: Routledge, 2002), 1–2.
5. Noll, American Evangelical Christianity, 185.
6. Timothy Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism,” in The Cambridge Companion to Evangelical Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 2.
7. Scot McKnight, The King Jesus Gospel: The Original Good News Revisited (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 28–33.
8. Mark A. Noll, David W. Bebbington, and George A. Rawlyk, eds., “Introduction,” in Evangelicalism: Comparative Studies of Popular Protestantism in North America, The British Isles, and Beyond, 1700–1900 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 6; italics mine.
9. David Bebbington, “The Nature of Evangelical Religion,” in Evangelicals: Who They Have Been, Are Now, and Could Be (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2019), 48.
10. Bebbington, “The Nature of Evangelical Religion,” 48.
11. Bebbington, “The Nature of Evangelical Religion,” 48.
12.  E. Randolph Richards and Brandon J. O’Brien, Misreading Scripture with Western Eyes: Removing Cultural Blinders to Better Understand the Bible (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2012), 95–112.
13.  Young, “Recapturing Evangelical Identity and Mission,” 53–55.
14. Bruce L. Shelley, Church History in Plain Language, 5th ed., ed. Marshall Shelley (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2020), 403–6, 504–5, 511–12.
15. Lisa Sharon Harper, “Will Evangelicalism Surrender?” in Still Evangelical? Insiders Reconsider Political, Social, and Theological Meaning, ed. Mark Labberton (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2018), 20–21.
16. Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism,” 1.
17. Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism,” 1.
18. Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism,” 12.
19. Scot McKnight, “John MacArthur’s Accusation against N. T. Wright,” Patheos, July 10, 2017, https://www.patheos.com/blogs/jesuscreed/2017/07/10/john-macarthurs-accusations-nt-wright/.
20. Voddie Baucham Jr., Fault Lines: The Social Justice Movement and Evangelicalism’s Looming Catastrophe (Washington, DC: Salem, 2021), 113–30; John MacArthur, “Foreword,” in Christianity and Wokeness: How the Social Justice Movement Is Hijacking the Gospel—and the Way to Stop It, by Owen Strachan (Washington, DC: Salem, 2021), xix–xxi.
21.  Moisés Silva, New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology and Exegesis, vol. 2, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids:Zondervan, 2014), 306–13.
22. Stanley J. Grenz, Revisioning Evangelical Theology: A Fresh Agenda for the 21st Century (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1993), 21–22; Jarvis Williams, “Biblical Steps toward Removing the Stain of Racism from the Southern Baptist Convention,” in Removing the Stain of Racism from the Southern Baptist Convention: Diverse African American and White Perspectives (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2017), 31–39.
23. Bird, Evangelical Theology, xxv–xxx.
24. Jeremy R. Treat, The Crucified King: Atonement and Kingdom in Biblical and Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2014), 112–14; McKnight, The King Jesus Gospel, 92–100.
25. Treat, The Crucified King, 112–14; 214–17.
26. Tony Evans, The Kingdom Agenda: Life Under God (Chicago: Moody, 2013), 27–76.
27. Gavin Ortlund, Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals: Why We Need Our Past to Have a Future (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2019), 45.
28. Alister McGrath, Evangelicalism and the Future of Christianity (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1949), 22.
29. Bebbington, “The Nature of Evangelical Religion,” 31–55; Larsen, “Defining and Locating Evangelicalism"