I spent 45 years as a proud conservative evangelical. It was my home. It wasn’t perfect, but nowhere else was either. Evangelicalism helped shape my love for Scripture, my devotion to Jesus, my commitment to conversion, prayer, mission, and discipleship. I owe much to people within it.
In the circles I grew up in, I was also taught the importance of engaging with the community and the world in a way that brought healing and hope.
- We sent missionaries near and far dedicated to telling others about the good news of the Gospel, often accompanied by acts of service to show that we cared about the whole person, not just their souls.
- We promoted foster care, adoption, and crisis pregnancy centers as a proactive way to build a culture of life.
- Evangelical disaster relief organizations did incredible work in meeting practical needs in areas devastated by natural disasters.
- Personally, my experience in the local churches in my life - Sunday School, youth group, services, revival meetings, potlucks, small groups, community outreach - gave me many wonderful memories and formed me in ways that I still cherish. [1]
The evangelical neighbor who quietly loves Jesus, serves the poor, cares for refugees, tells the truth, honors his marriage vows, and treats political opponents with dignity is not the source of my disillusionment. In many ways, they are evidence that the best of evangelicalism still shows sparks of life.
And yet, here I am, feeling the need to no longer be associated with evangelicalism because of the terrible toll the Trumpification of conservative evangelicalism has taken on its witness, reputation, and impact.
I’m not a grumpy curmudgeon, pummeled by evangelicalism, who now just wants an excuse to throw shade. No, conservative evangelicalism was the Christian ecosystem into which I was born, and for most of my life, it felt like home.
I helped build it. I voted party line most of my life. I participated in the ecosystem. This is not a story about “those people.” It is a story about me and “my people.”
Speaking of “my people,” this series is not primarily aimed at the sincere evangelical Christian who voted for Donald Trump while wrestling with competing concerns and difficult choices. I know many such people. Some are dear friends. Some remain among the most faithful followers of Jesus I know.
Many Christians concluded that one set of policies represented a lesser evil than another. Whether I agree with that conclusion is not the point. Reasonable people can disagree about political strategy, candidates, and public policy.
My concern is different.
