Leaving Christian Fundamentalism and the Reconstruction of Identity

Josie McSkimming

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• eBook ISBN: 9781317106562
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

There is an increasing interest in the influence of religious fundamentalism upon people's motivation, identity and decision-making. Leaving Christian Fundamentalism and the Re-construction of Identity details the stories of those who have left Christian fundamentalist churches and how they change after they have left. It considers how the previous fundamentalist identity is shaped by aspects of church teaching and discipline that are less authoritarian and coercive, and more subtle and widely spread throughout the church body. That is, individuals are understood as not only subject to a form of judgment, but also exercise it, with everyone seemingly complicit in maintaining the stability of the church organisation. This book provocatively illustrates that the reasons for leaving an evangelical Christian church may be less about what happens outside the church in terms of the lures and attractions of the secular world, and more about the experience within the community itself.

1 The historical emergence of Christian fundamentalism as a social movement

They don’t like us.

They won’t marry us.

We bury ourselves

catacomb deep

in high sterile castles.

Dorothy Porter, ‘Crusaders’

The immediate question in a study such as this into disaffiliation and deconversion from Christian fundamentalism (CF) is how do we understand modern fundamentalism itself? My overview of this enormous issue will include a consideration of the local context of the city of Sydney and of CF as a recent and influential social movement intimately involved in identity change. I will refer also to the relevant research into disaffiliation from CF, and situate this current study within that body of knowledge. My argument is that there is a gap in the existing research about the phenomenon of identity change post-exit from CF. This enquiry into the journey of disaffiliation through a post-structural and relational framework of power, using the theory of Foucault and other post-Foucauldian scholars, is intended to contribute to filling that gap. I do not attempt to traverse the enormous body of literature into fundamentalism, violence and the rise of terrorism, as clearly that is beyond my brief.

Moreover, it is beyond the scope of this book to provide a complete history of CF over the last 2000 years, which has largely been provided by others (e.g. Antoun, 2001, Armstrong, 2001, Almond et al., 2003, Babinski, 2003, Hood et al., 2005, Mercer, 2009). To set the scene, the history of fundamentalism could be said to have its roots in the Roman Christians’ persecution and massacre of pagans and burning of pagan works of art and temples, including the Serapaeum in the library at Alexandria. There are many examples of this continuing bloody history, including the ‘final solution’ to religious diversity enacted in 1492, with the expulsion and ensuing Diaspora of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews and Muslims. The subsequent Inquisition and Holy Roman Empire of medieval Christendom was especially noted as an illustration of lethal violence in the history of Christianity (Almond et al., 2003). Indeed, it has been noted that for much of its 2000-year history, Christianity in the West ‘has operated as if it were the only game in town, or at least the only game that mattered’ (Brockman, 2011: 1).

This historical context introduces, but does not define or wholly reflect, modern CF, which has arguably become an ambiguous, misleading and highly derogatory term (Aldridge, 2013: 131). The actual term ‘fundamentalism’ is said to have first seen the light of day in 1920 when the editor of a prominent Baptist paper, alarmed at what he saw as the havoc wrought by ‘rationalism’ and ‘worldliness’ in American Protestant churches, coined the term and defined fundamentalists as ‘those ready to do battle royal for the Fundamentals of Protestantism’ (Marsden, 1980: 159). However, the word has long since escaped its Protestant roots, with Karen Armstrong claiming that one of the most startling developments of the late twentieth century has been the emergence within every major religious tradition of a ‘militant piety’ popularly known as fundamentalism (2001: ix). She suggests that such fundamentalism represents a kind of rebellion against the secular hegemony of the modern world; fundamentalists ‘want to drag religion from the sidelines, to which it has been relegated in a secular culture, and back to centre stage’ (in an interview with Wallis, 2002: 22). The Irish political scientist Malise Ruthven (2005: 8) similarly considers that ‘the F-word’ is a religious way of being by which beleaguered believers attempt to preserve and fortify their distinctive identity in the face of modernity and increasing secularisation. Paul Maltby (2013: 174) further comments that those who respect the critical agenda of postmodernism are in turn astonished by the dramatic resurgence of CF, which paradoxically may be considered a premodern current of thought.

However, there are problems in applying the word ‘fundamentalism’ beyond its original historical use. Again, Armstrong (2001: xii, Wallis, 2002) comments that Jews and Muslims find it somewhat offensive to have this Christian term foisted upon them, and are not so much concerned with doctrine which is an essentially Christian preoccupation. Further, Gabriel Almond and his colleagues (2003: 9–16) draw upon the more than 75 case studies and comparative essays published in the groundbreaking five-volume Fundamentalisms project of the American Academy of Arts and Science (Marty and Appleby, 1991, 1995) in developing this theme. For example, scriptural inerrancy is not the defining mark of all such movements; fundamentalism and violent extremism have been used erroneously as synonyms; and the extravagant use of the term encourages non-specialists to make facile generalisations thus conflating vast differences between these movements. They therefore suggest that fundamentalism refers to a discernible pattern of religious militancy by which self-styled ‘true believers’ attempt to arrest the erosion of religious identity, fortify the borders of the religious community and create viable alternatives to secular institutions and behaviours.

Martin Marty and Scott Appleby (1991: 814–842) in turn suggest that the fundamentalisms all follow a certain pattern. As Armstrong summarises (2001: xiii): ‘They are embattled forms of spirituality which have emerged as a response to a perceived crisis’, seeing this not as a conventional political struggle, ‘but a cosmic war between the forces of good and evil’. She notes that fundamentalists may withdraw from mainstream society to create their own culture, but they are ‘not impractical dreamers. They have absorbed the practical rationalism of modernity and, under the guidance of their charismatic leaders, [are fighting back] to re-sacralise an increasingly skeptical world’ (2001: xiii). Rebecca Joyce Frey (2007) also describes fundamentalists as reactive, not only with a defensive or protective attitude towards religious belief but also a selective and adaptive emphasis about doctrine and certain aspects of the modern world. Ruthven helpfully concludes that although the term is not wholly satisfactory and that not all fundamentalist-like movements are identical, they do all exhibit what Wittgenstein (1958) referred to as ‘family resemblances’ (2005: 9).

This is perhaps the ironic aspect of modern fundamentalisms: they may believe in absolutist or literal interpretations of sacred texts and a ‘selectively imagined past’ (Bruce, 2011: 14), but they are often at the forefront of exploring alternative technologies as they respond to social change. Such selective and controlled acceptance of technological and social organisational innovations along with the use of media contributes to a process of ‘controlled acculturation’ within the goals of fundamentalism (Antoun, 2001: 118).

While acknowledging that fundamentalists have not been slow to adopt and adapt modern technologies to their advantage, anthropologist Lionel Caplan has explored the complex relation between fundamentalism and text. In asserting the divine inspiration of their texts, fundamentalists are ‘inclined to proclaim certainties, to affirm universal, timeless moralities’ (1987: 21). He concludes, therefore, as I would also argue, that fundamentalism must be seen in its discursive aspect as an attempt to establish what Foucault would refer to as its ‘regime of truth’ (Foucault, 1980e: 131). Fundamentalist truth is thus seen as unchanging, substantive, essentialist and legitimately constitutive of identity. Douglas Pratt (2010), a theological scholar, constructs a typology of CF to expose the effects of the ideological, or regime of truth structure, more precisely. That is, he proposes the phases of CF as passive, then assertive, then impositional. Communitarian intent requires individual constraint – that is, the more hard line the fundamentalism, the tighter this relation. This is the spectrum upon which the fundamentalist identity is structured, towards a demand for total commitment, which then affects every aspect of the believer’s life.

James Barr (1988), a liberal theologian, has summarised these themes as the two main attributes of Protestant fundamentalism in general: exclusivity and opposition. He also discusses the important features of CF, which lead to the definition of CF I have adopted. First, there is the central dogma of inerrancy rather than literalism of the Bible, with an attempt to iron out narrative inconsistencies to aspire to narrative coherence. Second, CF is salvationist and millennial in character, with salvation being seen as personal and individual. Third, CF is ahistorical, in that in spite of the importance of narrative history in western European culture, the Bible is treated as timeless and out-of-time. The authority and legitimacy of its dogmas lie in their apparent creation ex nihilo. Fourth, CF gives prominence to reason and rationality, allowing it to be a ‘modern’ ideology with an accommodation of modern science and de-emphasising all forms of emotionalism. I would argue that these four characteristics not only lead to a helpful definition of CF, but also to commencing the consideration of the technologies and apparatuses of power involved in shaping Christian identity.

I have thus adopted Edward Babinski’s summary definition of CF, which is most true to its original emergence: a belief in the fundamentals of the Christian faith (2003: 21). These are defined as the truthfulness of events recorded in the Bible (including miracles and prophecies), morality prescribed in the Bible, Christian doctrines derived from the Bible, and indeed scriptural inerrancy overall. In short, CF is understood as essentially individualised, modernised and shaped by a particular authoritative discourse.

Focus on the Protestant Reformation tradition within CF, not Roman Catholicism, nor cults and sects

Fundamentalist movements have historically emerged from the Abrahamic faiths (Judaism, Christianity and Islam) and could also be said to include New Religious Movements (NRMs) and so-called ‘cults’. However, for the purposes of this book, these will not be included for two main reasons. First, the term cult has a popular usage as a derogatory label for alternative or deviant minority religious groups which are frequently accused of being authoritarian towards or manipulative of their followers (Olsen, 2006, Healy, 2008). Including cults in this investigation could thus been seen as introducing an analysis of ‘Christianised’ organisations that exist on the societal fringe but lack social sanction. Second, cult members often pledge obedience to an individual rather than a religious tradition or organised religious body. Their devotion is frequently centred on a charismatic figure, who claims special (sometimes divine) status and therefore exempts him- or herself from the ordinary constraints of religious law (Almond et al., 2003: 91).

CF within the Protestant Reformation tradition, rather than Roman Catholicism, is also the target social movement of this investigation. Philosopher Charles Taylor summarises the differences between the two groups and so illustrates the symmetry of the Reformation with the working definition of CF I have proposed (1989: 217). The Reformers rejected priestly mediation to God in favour of the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers and declared salvation to be by faith alone, while rejecting the special vocation to the monastic life and affirming the spiritual value of the lay life. He further comments that Calvinism is marked out by a ‘militant activism, a drive to reorganise the church and the world’ (Taylor, 1989: 227), based on personal discipline and commitment, with an attendant stable social order. Along with its reaffirmation of ‘ordinary life’, he argues that such Protestantism therefore becomes one of the key shaping influences of the modern identity and modern culture. As such, it is a highly relevant movement to be studying within this current context as a system of modern power.

Christian fundamentalism and Christian evangelicalism

There is considerable debate in the literature about the difference between fundamentalism and evangelicalism. The historian George Marsden famously concludes that a fundamentalist is an evangelical ‘who is angry about something’ – a particular type of ‘Protestant militant’ – while evangelicalism describes a much more diverse coalition (1991: 1–4). Latterly, there has emerged a joke definition of a fundamentalist as ‘someone firmly committed to views I don’t like’ (Frey, 2007: 6). Indeed, sociologist Nancy Ammerman (1987: 4) suggests that ‘compromise and accommodation are among the most dreaded words in the Fundamentalist vocabulary’.

While both groups may share the conservative theology described above, Marsden further comments on a so-called ‘renaissance’ in evangelical scholarship since the 1950s, seeing the ‘new evangelicals’ as needing to step up and meet the intellectual challenges of the modern age (Marsden, 1991: 149–151). However, Australian theologian Keith Mascord considers that evangelicalism is essentially an unstable position, because while retaining a fundamentalist hermeneutic it is variously committed to ‘scholarly excellence and to accepting adequately supported scholarly conclusions’ (2012: 146). That is, how can it be scholarly while at times apparently literalistic in its interpretation? Nevertheless, sociologist Sally Gallagher notes that in spite of their unique histories, doctrines, institutions and internal diversity, evangelical, fundamentalist and pentecostal labels continue to be used interchangeably as equivalent descriptions of conservative Protestants who are uniformly anti-feminist, anti-abortion, anti-gay and (in the US context) anti big government (2003: 9). Conversely, David Bebbington and David Ceri Jones (2013: 12), writing recently about these movements in the United Kingdom, state that although there are substantial overlaps, evangelicalism and fundamentalism cannot be equated as one and the same phenomenon.

I would agree that they are not in any way identical, yet in the two main research studies of Christian disaffiliation in Australia and New Zealand, fundamentalism, evangelicalism and pentecostalism¹ are not distinguished, and are used interchangeably. Zina O’Leary (1997) makes the distinction between ‘Catholic and Protestant’ only, while Alan Jamieson (2002) uses the generic term ‘EPC’ (evangelical, pentecostal and charismatic) to refer to his sample. Therefore, although there is some contention over labels and of course grey areas of overlap, I will be using the term CF to incorporate both conservative evangelical and fundamentalist churches.

The social scientist Robert Wuthnow (1988: 140) also adds that, in terms of the American experience, the issue on which Christian leaders of all perspectives have been in most agreement is evangelism. Leaders seem united in the conviction that the church’s main business is winning souls. He explores the history of the extraordinary expansion among evangelical organisations during the 1950s while they took particular advantage of new opportunities for ministry for evangelism on college campuses. This appears to have provided something of a blueprint for the spread of evangelism on campuses in Australia, which started very strategically in Sydney in the late 1970s. Indeed, I was among the first group of students on the campus of the University of New South Wales to be thoroughly evangelised during this period. I was then trained up as a disciple and evangelist ready to undertake my own battle royal for the Fundamentals of the faith.

The Sydney experience

Most participants in the study were originally from Sydney or still lived there, hence it is important to focus on the local experience as a specific context of power. While there are myriad churches and thus contexts of power whereby people may renegotiate their Christian identity, Sydney Anglicanism is a case example where CF may be played out in a particular way with specific effects. Various debates among scholars indicate that the battle for ‘truth’ is alive and well in this city, and forms a cultural and ideological backdrop for many of the participants in the research, as well as myself as the researcher.

From the time of the so-called ‘flogging parson’ Samuel Marsden’s arrival in the penal colony of New South Wales (NSW) in 1874, preaching for conversion has dominated the evangelical mission in this city. Marsden’s sermons indicate that he addressed his hearers as men and women totally depraved (Lawton, 2002). Additionally, Marsden was directly involved in the frontier wars against Aboriginal Australians, being said to have stated that ‘there will never be any good done until there is a clear riddance of the natives’ (Karskens, 2009: 479). Such an inauspicious beginning for the church in Sydney may have set the stage for an ongoing vision of the denizens of Sydney as requiring rescue from their moral corruption. Vociferous and persistent Christian opponents of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, begun in 1978 and now promoted as the one truly global gay event, may well agree.²

However, it seems that Sydney Anglicans are at pains not to be labelled with the fundamentalist tag. The retired Archdeacon of St Andrews Cathedral in Sydney, Reverend Phillip Jensen, states that fundamentalists, while sharing common tenets of faith with evangelicals, are ‘irrationalists’ and may act out their belief system without recognition of facts or an appropriate connection with society (Jensen and Richards, 2011). As an aside, in terms of the use of modern media in the promotion of ‘acceptable’ biblical discourses, the series of interviews from which these comments come is an excellent example.³

On the other hand, theologian Kevin Giles argues that the cognate words ‘fundamentalist’ and ‘fundamentalism’ today have two meanings. Historically, they referred to the conservative Protestants in America described above. He suggests that Sydney evangelicals are by and large not fundamentalists in this sense, but they are in the more modern definition. He states:

In the post 1970s period, the words ‘fundamentalist’ and ‘fundamentalism’ have come to refer to any ideology which has an absolutist hermeneutic: what I/we say/teach is ‘the truth’, or any religious person or movement that asserts, ‘what I/we say is what God says’. Religious fundamentalists in this contemporary sense believe that what they teach reflects exactly the mind of God. There is no gap between the holy text and what ‘I’ say the text says. This kind of fundamentalism reigns in Sydney, albeit in softer and harder forms, even if it is masked by subtle turns of phrase.

(Giles, 2013: para. 7)

Historian Stuart Piggin in his study of evangelicalism in Australia also comments that twentieth-century evangelicals have become far more concerned with correcting each other rather than with those to whom they minister. He argues:

supporters of the Word are so trigger-happy in their great commitment...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• List of figures
• Preface
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1 The historical emergence of Christian fundamentalism as a social movement
• 2 Method of enquiry
• 3 Introducing the participants and journeys of change and renewal I
• 4 Journeys of change and renewal II
• 5 The shaping of identity through the lens of truth
• 6 The shaping of identity through the lens of power
• 7 The shaping of identity through the lens of the self: the resistance and anti-pastoral revolt of docile bodies
• 8 Narratives of laughter and a new ideological becoming
• 9 Co-construction: what is the role of the interviewer in the construction of identity stories?
• Conclusion
• Appendix
• Bibliography
• Index