Will Evangelicalism Die with Billy Graham?

American church historians trace the beginning of the evangelical movement to the early ministry of Billy Graham. His evangelistic crusades were transdenominational and open to anyone open to his proclamation of the gospel. [...]
John E. Phelan Jr is a recently retired senior professor of theological studies at North Park Seminary.

American church historians trace the beginning of the evangelical movement to the early ministry of Billy Graham. His evangelistic crusades were transdenominational and open to anyone open to his proclamation of the gospel. While many fundamentalists despised Graham for what they perceived as compromises with Roman Catholics and “liberals,” many traditional Christians were drawn to his winsomeness, simplicity, and clarity. They wanted to find their way out of the fundamentalist shadows into the light of American cultural relevance. They argued that the narrowness, fortress mentality, and fierceness of fundamentalism made it unappealing to a world that needed the good news of Jesus Christ. Evangelicals, as they came to be called, wanted respect, not scorn. They wanted universities, not Bible colleges—with scholars with degrees from Harvard and Princeton on their faculties. But they also wanted mayors and governors, cabinet secretaries, and Supreme  Court justices. They wanted a place at the American table. And over the next few decades they found it.

In recent years, however, evangelicalism has experienced crisis and decline. Fundamentalism is gaining what it lost with the rise of Billy Graham and the neo-evangelicals in the late 1940s and early ’50s. While those early evangelicals were more open and forward thinking than their fundamentalist peers, they were still quite politically and culturally conservative. The righteous, pious, generous, successful Christian businessman was the model of evangelical probity in those early days. These model citizens were nearly always, of course, white and male. Evangelicals were not notable for their support for the emerging civil rights movement. Many if not most evangelical churches in the South were hostile to the movement. Early evangelicals also tended to lean to the right politically, supporting business-oriented Republicans in the North and Midwest, and conservative anti-civil rights Democrats in the South. In light of this, the overwhelming if perplexing support of evangelicals for Donald Trump should not have been surprising.

Evangelicals, as they came to be called, wanted respect, not scorn.

The 1960s changed nearly everything. The Jesus movement was popular among younger evangelicals. It was more open to the civil rights movement. Its devotees often opposed the Vietnam War. Calls for economic and social justice entered the evangelical vocabulary. Many traditional evangelicals found this disquieting, a cloud on the evangelical skyline.

I attended Bible school, college, and seminary during these years. We were convinced we could be both good evangelicals and good scholars. We could be good evangelicals and call for racial justice, work for peace, and address environmental degradation. But as the decades wore on, it became clear that this was not entirely true. Evangelicalism began to sink back into fundamentalism. The irenic Billy Graham was being replaced by much less irenic voices. Increasingly evangelical leaders insisted that some lines could never be crossed. Certain questions had been answered and needn’t be reexamined. This made it difficult for young scholars. If you had questions about the literal six-day creation, supported women in ministry, or had different ideas about politics and sexuality, you had better find a different community to serve. And you were often no longer welcome at the evangelical family table if you insisted that “black lives matter(ed)” or white privilege existed.

These days many raised in the tradition, who love Jesus as much as ever, are being told, implicitly or explicitly, to keep quiet about their questions and convictions—or get out. The result is an evangelical brain drain as well as an evangelical youth drain. Many wonder if evangelicals are open to questions of truth. Are they willing to explore, reason, reflect, and change? Must the same answers always be given to the same questions? Perhaps evangelicalism will die along with Billy Graham. Something called evangelicalism will remain, but it will be indistinguishable from fundamentalism. The Covenant still has the ability to buck this trend. I hope it will. 

Picture of Greg Asimakoupoulos

Greg Asimakoupoulos

Greg Asimakoupoulos is a chaplain at Covenant Shores in Mercer Island, Washington, In addition to being an ordained Covenant minister, he is a freelance writer and newspaper columnist. He and his wife, Wendy, have three daughters.
CONTINUE READING

Explore More Stories & News

Features

The Priesthood of All Believers

From Pentecost to the present, the whole church — ordained and lay alike — carries the mission forward.

Features

A Story of God’s Pursuing Love: Nicki’s Journey at Rock Harbor

After a devastating job loss, Nicki Andersen made God a promise: she’d read the Bible from cover to cover. What followed was a conversion, a baptism, and a community at Rock Harbor Church that would expand to embrace her granddaughter too, in the midst of her most difficult moments.

Features

The Joy of Choosing Broccoli

Intellectual agreement isn’t the same as living it out. Through honest stories of allyship and real advocacy in ministry, Jessica explores what women and men must do to build teams where everyone truly flourishes and grows stronger together.

Features

Jochebed: Lessons My Mother Taught Me

Julie Bromley traces a line from Moses’s mother, Jochebed, whose very name carried the glory of God, to her own mother, a Sunday school teacher and lifelong Bible student who taught her to ask hard questions and know who she belongs to.

Features

The Kitchen Where Work Is Prayer

How Covenant pastor and church planter Alex Song went from addiction and a Korean monastery to opening a community kitchen in Windsor, Ontario, where they feed neighbors, train teenagers, and create spaces of belonging.