James, in your critique of a too broad definition of evangelicalism, I wonder how you would define Pentecostalism from a sociological perspective. Is there a Pentecostal style that is distinct from what you describe as evangelical?

Adding in a sociological component might allow us to see what evangelicals want to do in light of Billy Abraham’s Canonical Theism project, a recovery of non-propositional elements of the faith that make it truly sustainable.

You’ve put your finger on something that I as an ex-Evangelical, have been trying to convey to my non-Evangelical friends for years. Being an Evangelical in the U.S., in the late 20th-early 21st century, involves more than theology. It is also a lifestyle.

As an amateur sociologist (aren’t we all?), my concept of the relationship between the theological and the sociological is something like this: The theological definition provides a floor – you cannot be admitted to the Evangelical club without being able to affirm something like the seven beliefs listed in the Evangelical Manifesto, out loud, in front of people. But that isn’t enough. You also have to join the sociologically defined group, which requires adopting certain folkways, patterns of speech, dress, habits, activities and so on. Because these sociological markers are more visible to others than theological commitments, they become a shorthand way to recognize other Evangelicals, used both by Evangelicals themselves and by outsiders. As I know from my own history as a former Evangelical, failing to adopt these folkways is every bit as damaging to one’s perceived identity as a true Christian as standing up in the middle of the 11:00 service and expressing doubts about the Trinity would be.

At the same time, these sociological markers are an outgrowth of the baseline theological beliefs, although not a necessary outgrowth. In other words, if you become an Evangelical in the middle of a forest with no one to hear (except God!), do you really become an Evangelical, even if you sign on to the Evangelical Manifesto? The new Evangelical, sitting alone in the forest, wouldn’t necessarily come up with the same sociological markers as did his or her Evangelical counterparts back at the megachurch. The lone Evangelical won’t spontaneously start listening to Keith Green (he’s from my era, too) or today’s equivalent. On the other hand, I think the lone Evangelical would start setting up some structure, or test, or marker, to help determine Who is on the Lord’s Side and who isn’t.

Of course, one danger of such a sociological shorthand is that Evangelicals become mind readers, believing themselves able to tell who is really a Christian through the outward manifestations, even over the protests of the person himself or herself. I see both Barrack Obama at Saddleback and Joshua Hochschild at Wheaton as running afoul of this Evangelical clairvoyance. And, unless the congregation were in a very generous mood, a Pentecostal believer from Nigeria would face some serious doubts of both the theological and sociological kind were he or she to be plunked down in the middle of an American Evangelical church.

So I agree that you cannot ignore the sociological element of the definition, but I think it is bound up with the theological, to the point that it is very difficult to separate the two.

But that brings us to where I think Smith might have erred somewhat in his evangelical/Catholic comparison. Are evangelicals really intending to distinguish themselves from the “Catholic” identity that Smith references… the “older, more ecumenical” one? …the one that Augustine preaches? I don’t think so. That evangelicals might try to distinguish evangelicalism from post-Reformation “Catholic” identity is more on the mark, but then, as Coverston points out, in looking at this Catholicism we lose the very doctrinal focus that Augustine can provide in identifying the catholic.

Whether evangelicalism recovers Augustine’s sense is another question—certainly it tries, and perhaps the annoyingly broad theological definitions of evangelicalism are somewhat redeemed by the fact that what they’re attempting is a sort of catholicity. That they attempt this from denominational or sectarian beginnings (sociological or theological, call them what you will) obviously makes such an attempt a difficult sell to the non-evangelical, just as catholicity can be a difficult sell to the evangelical herself.

Ad Jensen: You’re certainly right that the “culture” of evangelicalism emerged from what was a decidedly theological identity, viz., a robust Protestantism (which often saw the magisterial Reformation as not going far enough). This often and usually included a central focus on the doctrine of justification, or found expression in the concern that one has “a personal relationship with Jesus.” In either case, there is a noted emphasis on personal, individual salvation as an interior work. This has at least two consequences: first, it means that, for evangelicals, there IS salvation outside the church; or, in other words, the community that is the ecclesia does not mediate salvation in any way. Instead, church is a kind of encouragement club for saved individuals. Second, this thin ecclesiology has usually been attended by a suspicion of “external” matters of ritual, liturgy, and the sacraments, as well as a general disparaging of that long period between “the New Testament Church” and the Reformation. (Surely one of the most notable and encouraging developments in evangelical theology over the past ten years has been a renewed interest in the Church Fathers and even medieval theology.)

So what? My concern, I guess, is that evangelicalism as a theological identity affirms, celebrates, and amplifies these theological distinctives in a way that construes them as the only way to think about Christian faith, and does so in a way that implicitly or explicitly disparages the Catholic theological tradition. In short, I have second thoughts about the Reformation for what, in evangelical-speak, I think are “biblical” reasons.

Perhaps this is just a long, rambling way of trying to say that I’m a reluctant Protestant whereas most who are ardent supporters of a theological definition of evangelicalism are often quite enthusiastic Protestants. But nonetheless, I know where I come from, recognize how my imagination has been shaped, and own up to the fact that I am “evangelical” in terms of my (sociological) formation.

Ad Coverston: Very fair point. You’re right; I regrettably fell into an old evangelical habit (thus proving my point! by fixating on the doctrinal. In fact, I’ve just finished a book that makes a case for not doing this. Instead, like you suggest, I argue that “the Catholic faith” is primarily carried in a set of liturgical practices that form our imaginations before it’s ever articulated in doctrines (see George Weigel’s wonderful little book, Letters to a Young Catholic on this point). I hope you can see this already in the post when I suggest that we ought to focus on the “implicit” theology that is carried in evangelical practices.

James, this is a place where I think your evangelicalism probably prevents your from seeing through sociological eyes. Defining catholicism theologically as “a commitment to a certain core orthodoxy” sounds awfully Protestant. If you want to try and get into the mindset of catholicism as a sociological ideal type, you might look at the work of David Tracy and his distinction of the dialectical imagination of Augustinian religions, predominately though not exclusively Protestant, and the analogical imagination, predominately though not exclusively Catholic. A more accessible and sociological appropriation of this model has been provided by Andrew Greeley’s many works on the Catholic imagination.

1) The theological definitions are deceptively broad (to which I say, narrow them! Pentecostalism should not be seen as a subset of evangelicalism in any case).

and

2) You don’t like celebrating theological distinctives, or, perhaps, you are embarassed by the claimed theological distinctives of evangelicalism… (to which I say, does evangelicalism not have something THEOLOGICAL to say, that Catholicism and liberalism won’t or can’t—but should—say?)

It seems to me that to allow this sociological definition is to concede the theological ground somewhat, which would be a shame. You can have the theological definition without the abuses you mention.