Two plenary keynotes at the CFH (one from Kristin Du Mez and the other from Jemar Tisby) encouraged Christian historians to embrace activism on behalf of justice, but I suspect that competing evangelical interpretations of what constitutes justice will lead some Christian academics to embrace some causes that are directly opposed to those that other Christian academics embrace.  This is not the first time, of course, that American Protestantism – or American Protestant higher education – has experienced a fissure on an issue of theology, social justice, or politics.  

This question was on my mind in the days leading up to the 2022 Conference on Faith and History that met at Baylor University last week, and now that I have returned from the conference, the question continues to concern me.  Two plenary keynotes at the CFH (one from Kristin Du Mez and the other from Jemar Tisby) encouraged Christian historians to embrace activism on behalf of justice, but I suspect that competing evangelical interpretations of what constitutes justice will lead some Christian academics to embrace some causes that are directly opposed to those that other Christian academics embrace.  This is not the first time, of course, that American Protestantism – or American Protestant higher education – has experienced a fissure on an issue of theology, social justice, or politics.  But this time, when evangelical higher education fragments over issues of social justice, I expect that there will not be merely two separate factions, as there were in the modernist-fundamentalist debates of the 1920s.  Instead, there will be at least five.

Faction 1: Conservative Culture Warriors
The most politically conservative evangelical faction to emerge from this split will be the culture warriors.  Staunchly opposed to critical race theory, feminism, and so-called “socialism,” culture warrior colleges and universities (and faculty that identify with this view) see their Christian mission primarily in terms of training a new generation of Christians to resist cultural liberalism through a Christian faith that is inextricably connected with conservative political principles.  Some of these institutions, such as Liberty University and Patrick Henry College, have developed close relationships with the Republican Party or conservative elected officials in recent years.  Others, such as New Saint Andrews College in Moscow, Idaho, may not be election campaign stops for conservative Republican presidential contenders but are just as politically conservative and are closely connected with a Christian homeschooling movement that attempts to reject cultural liberalism in all its forms.

Culture warrior institutions are a leading segment of Christian higher education today.  Liberty University enrolled 15,000 residential students and 80,000 online students in 2020.  (By comparison, Wheaton College enrolls slightly less than 3,000 students; Calvin University has about 3,300 students; Azusa Pacific enrolls just over 10,000; and Baylor has an enrollment of slightly more than 20,000.  Messiah University, the academic home of the current CFH president, has 2,338 students).  Liberty University’s history department has two chairs – one for its residential program and the other for its online classes – and it offers a Ph.D. program.  But at the CFH, the nation’s leading culture warrior institutions are barely represented at all.  This year’s conference did not include any papers from faculty or students at Bob Jones University, Regent University (the university in Virginia Beach that Pat Robertson founded – and that hosted the 2016 CFH), or Patrick Henry College.  There were two panelists from Liberty University, but neither one was a member of that university’s history faculty.  So, if one looks only at the CFH, one might not know that culture warrior institutions are attracting tens of thousands of new evangelical undergraduate students every year.

Not every faculty member at these institutions fully embraces the Christian nationalist ideology of their school, but those who do necessarily become activists – but activists for a cause that is diametrically opposed to the social justice mission that Kristin Du Mez and Jemar Tisby encouraged historians to embrace.  The chair of Liberty University’s residential history program teaches a graduate course, for instance, on “American Christian Heritage.”  He is a member of the university’s Center for Apologetics and Cultural Engagement at Liberty University.  Other members of the department teach courses such as the upper-level undergraduate course “Reagan’s America.”  In addition to classes such as “Reagan’s America” and “American Christian Heritage,” Liberty University’s online catalog offers classes on Jacksonian America, “The World of Jonathan Edwards,” “History of American Entrepreneurship,” and the Korean and Vietnam Wars, but not a single class on the civil rights movement, African American history, the history of American women, or any aspect of gender studies.  Instead of activism on behalf of minority groups, this Christian nationalist version of Christian higher education features an activism for a particular brand of conservatism – the conservatism that holds the American military and free enterprise in high regard and that celebrates the only two American presidents whose names headline a Liberty University history course: Andrew Jackson and Ronald Reagan.

Few other scholars, even at the most conservative Christian institutions, take this sort of Trumpist conservative partisanship seriously – which is why institutions in this category that once had some sort of connection to the CFH and the rest of the Christian scholarly world have become increasingly alienated in a faction of their own.  They might have a substantial part of the evangelical market share, but they’re no longer in conversation with the rest of Christian academia, which increasingly views them as engaged in a wholly different enterprise from their own educational mission.
Faction 2: Color-Blind (but anti-nationalist) Conservatives
The second most-conservative faction to emerge from the split will be color-blind conservatives who eschew Christian nationalism.  Like the culture warriors, institutions and individual academics who fall into this category are deeply concerned about the perceived moral decline of the United States, and they are also generally politically conservative and committed to free-market principles, but they don’t want to make their institutions adjuncts of the Republican Party.  Evangelical institutions that fall into this category are strongly committed to biblical inerrancy and gender complementarianism, and they are critical of critical race theory.  Among conservative intellectuals in the never-Trump crowd, faction 2 is attractive; it allows one to remain committed to all of the traditional principles of political conservatism while remaining critical of the Trump phenomenon, which has hardly any support among humanities faculty in colleges and universities, whether Christian or not.  But as conservative as faction 2 evangelicals might seem to outsiders, they sometimes face a difficult time navigating the politics of their highly conservative denominations and evangelical culture in general because of their unwillingness to support Donald Trump.

Despite issuing an official statement opposing CRT, Grove City College became the subject of a months-long uproar after the college allowed Jemar Tisby and Bryan Stevenson (founder of the Equal Justice Initiative) to speak on campus but then found itself caught in a bind between the criticism from parents who worried that the college was embracing CRT and faculty and students who identified as conservative but didn’t want the college to compromise academic freedom.  This week’s college conference on “The Limits of Government,” sponsored by the Institute for Faith and Freedom, presumably represents the type of activism that is more in line with Grove City College’s core constituency.  Instead of Jemar Tisby, the conference will feature Lenny McAllister, an African American Republican who is described on the conference announcement as a “civil rights advocate” who is promoting “equality” through “free market solutions” and “adherence to the spirit of the U.S. Constitution.”

Evangelicals who fall into faction 2 profess a genuine concern for racial justice, but they define it in individualistic terms and often deny the existence of structural racism – especially when it challenges the principles of the free market, which they believe offers the greatest hope for long-term poverty relief.  In doing this, they genuinely believe that they are upholding important principles of fairness; critical race theory, they think, is racist and therefore antithetical to Christian values.  While often criticizing Donald Trump and the evangelicals who support him, they are usually unwilling to vote for pro-choice Democrats, because they view the sexual revolution and abortion as the most urgent moral problems of our time.  So, for them, activism is much more likely to mean participating in a march against abortion or speaking out in defense of religious freedom when they feel that it is threatened by legislative initiatives such as the Equality Act than advocating for racial justice.

The historical scholarship of academics who endorse the beliefs of faction 2 is likely to be shaped by a conservative interpretation of American history that sees the decline of sexual morality or traditional religious practice (rather than debates over equality) as the most important trendline of the last few decades.  Carl Trueman’s (Westminster Theological Seminary) The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to the Sexual Revolution, is a wonderful example of the type of scholarship that one can find from historians in this camp.  It’s certainly activist in the sense that it is attempting to diagnose and correct the perceived problems of the sexual revolution rather than present a dispassionate narrative in the mode of Leopold von Ranke.  And it’s unapologetically Christian and deeply theological.  But it’s not the sort of activism that Jemar Tisby highlighted.
So, evangelical academics who fall into faction 2 are caught in a bind.  They’re often critical of Christian nationalism in general (and may even view it as dangerously heretical idolatry), which separates them from evangelicals in faction 1.  Indeed, some evangelical historians teaching at faction 2 institutions have written thoughtful critiques of Christian nationalism, as CFHer John Wilsey (Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) did in two separate books on civil religion and the idea of a Christian America.  But at the same time, their strong opposition to the sexual revolution and their general belief in limited government and the free market makes them wary of joining evangelicals to their left who believe that Christian politics should center on opposition to structural racism and gender inequities.  In the view of many members of their own highly conservative denominations who voted for Trump, these faction 2 academics may already be too progressive, but from the standpoint of most other Christian academics, their refusal to embrace anti-racist activism that is defined structurally rather than individually makes them far too conservative.  Outside of a small group of faction 1 and faction 2 institutions, the assumptions about race among faction 2 academics are diametrically opposed to the prevailing assumptions of the profession and of secular academia in general.  This will probably mean that faction 2 evangelical scholars will be increasingly intellectually marginalized in nearly all parts of academia, with the single exception of a small conservative academic subculture that only a few other historians are willing to engage with.

In the view of most of academia, faction 2 academics are on the wrong side of morality and history.  Despite their attempts to separate themselves from the pro-Trump evangelicals, they’re going to have a hard time convincing other academics in the age of DEI that their views are not politically dangerous and immoral.  I wish that were not the case, because I respect many scholars in faction 2 even if I don’t fully agree with them on every issue, but I think that my expectations that this faction will become increasingly marginalized and beleaguered are probably realistic.

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When we share the gospel we do so admitting our mistakes, doubts, sins and shortcomings. The more we take God’s call to holiness seriously, the more some of these flaws seem to matter in fact. It means we can share the grace of God with a humility that is attractive to people who are also flawed; rather than with a self-confidence which will crush those who are aware of their sin; and a hypocrisy which will alienate everyone.

There is a popular Christian meme that does the rounds on social media every so often. It reminds us that amongst the Biblical heroes involved in God’s work are some pretty dodgy characters. It usually begins “Noah was a drunk, Jonah ran away, Sarah laughed at God, Thomas doubted (etc etc); and you think that God can’t use you??” It’s a simple point, well made. If God included such a cast of rogues in his word; then why do we think that we can’t be in on his plans because of our sin?
Yet—many of us back off from evangelism out of a sense of unworthiness. Apart from the obvious fact that our deepest spiritual and psychological issues are not fixed by memes (!!), what is going on here?
The first thing to note is that we instinctively know that while that popular meme is undoubtedly true, and nothing but the truth; it’s not quite the whole truth. Anyone who has read the Bible will also know that God also demands radical holiness from us and urges separation from people who claim to be Christians but practice things such as sexual immorality, idolatry, slander, drunkenness, fraud, and greed. Jesus himself taught the necessity of quite extraordinary standards of holiness in conduct, speech and attitudes too.[1] And of course hypocrisy is hardly a great advert for the faith…
Reading these texts we all often experience a profound sense of our own sinfulness before God, and need for forgiveness. It also makes us very, circumspect about claiming to be God’s ambassadors here on earth, and putting ourselves in the position of calling others to be reconciled to God, when we know that there are stubborn lumps of our old nature which continue to reside in us; which are not in line with that message.
If you think Paul’s teaching about church discipline in Corinth is hard; then read Jesus’s battles with the Pharisees and Sadducees—the religious hierarchy of his day! Jesus’s main bone of contention with them was not that they sought to uphold the law (although they did often miss-apply it) but that they were religious hypocrites; who brought the message of God into disrepute by having attitudes and lifestyles that did not embody their teaching. When Jesus called the religious leaders ‘whitewashed tombs’[2] he was utterly scathing in his denunciation of outward shows of religiosity which were not matched by an inwardly sincere spiritual life. Or as my Solas colleague Gareth Black wrote, “your character should never be playing catch-up with your calling”. Religious hypocrisy stinks no less today, where it occurs in the local church or amongst the public scandals of televangelists, than it did in the gospels.
So, should we read the teaching of Jesus and keep our mouths firmly closed in the knowledge that sinners like us can never adequately represent Him? Or should we look at the flawed folks in the Bible God used in His work, take heart and get on with mission regardless? Are we inevitably locked into this conundrum – or is there a way out?
The answer, I think, lies in the gospel of Jesus itself.
The texts in scripture which tell us about the holiness of God and His righteous requirements for our lives are supposed to help us see our sinfulness.  “The law was our schoolmaster, to bring us to Christ” is how Paul phrases that in Galatians. It’s God’s perfect, exacting standards of inward and outward holiness which drive us into the arms of Christ where we find forgiveness.
There is a critical step that we all have to take as we receive that grace and forgiveness though. Because in order to receive forgiveness of sin, we must come to God in confession. 1 John 1:8-9 tells us that denial of sin, is a fatal condition; but that confession opens the path to receiving forgiveness from God. Confession is the humbling business of agreeing with God about our sinfulness, and no longer seeking to explain or excuse that which we find within ourselves that falls short of his standards.
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When we are ready to post on social media, He sees our motives, He sees our content, and He sees the way we communicate this content. If we are true believers, this awesome awareness will make it our chief concern to please Him in all that we do (2 Cor. 5:9), knowing that we will give an account at the judgment (2 Cor. 5:10). This includes giving an account for our words (Matt. 12:34–37). When we genuinely believe this, we are as conscientious about what we type as we are about what we speak. 

The internet, and especially social media, has changed the world. It has also changed us. Do not think that this is a blanket condemnation of social media. I am on social media, so to call judgment on its use would be condemning myself. Social media has become such a normal part of everyday life; it is simply the air we breathe. Not only is it normal, but it can be used for good purposes. It can be a valuable tool for communication, it allows us to keep up with our friends and loved ones, and some Christians use it to winsomely communicate God’s truth.
Regardless of how individuals choose to use social media, the non-negotiable for Christians is that we always use it righteously. I suggest that it is not easy. I am convinced that electronic communication, especially social media, makes it even harder to communicate righteously. It is hard enough to keep our communication righteous when we are communicating verbally (Proverbs 10:19; James 3:2). There are several reasons this is true.
Reason 1
We are prone to make a mental distinction between what we say and what we type. Scripture, however, directly connects what one says and what one writes. God holds Himself to this very standard. For example, in Galatians 3:8, Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, writes that “…the Scripture…preached the gospel to Abraham beforehand.” He makes no distinction between Scripture (the written Word) and God’s audible speech. When we make a thoughtless, unwarranted, and perhaps unarticulated distinction between what we write and what we say, we are not careful to apply Scriptural principles to our use of social media.
Reason 2
Social media communication is not checked or directed by nonverbal cues present in other forms of communication. As someone has quipped, “Technology giveth and technology taketh away.” For example, when speaking in person with someone, you can pick up body language that indicates that this conversation is not being well received. Perhaps the look on their face makes you realize that they are losing their temper. Even if you are speaking with someone over the phone, you may hear sighs, a change in tone of voice, or the person may get very quiet.
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