STORY | THEOLOGY | VOICE FULLER · STORY | THEOLOGY | VOICE “I didn’t think I was Korean. I claimed a Peruvian identity because that’s where I was born and the place I call - [PDF Document] (2024)


S T O R Y | T H E O L O G Y | V O I C E

“I didn’t think I was Korean. I claimed a Peruvian identity because that’s where I was born and the place I call home. When I came to LA to study, I considered myself a sojourner. Now I see that whatever city I’m in

is the place where God has sent me. The story of this city is my story, too.”—JOSI HWANG, ON IDENTITY IN EXILE

Linnea, a friend of Fuller, has spoken at Brehm Center gatherings and has exhibited work in Fuller Pasadena’s Payton Hall+ Weak Potential Energy by Linnea Gabriella Spransy, mixed media on paper, 2010,


Issue #2 2015

+ FULLER magazine is published for the global community of Fuller Theological Seminary. The editorial content of FULLER magazine reflects the opinions of the various authors and should not be interpreted as necessarily representing the views of Fuller Theological Seminary.© 2015 by Fuller Theological Seminary. Produced in limited quantities.

Table of Contents

MAGAZINE PRODUCTIONMark Labberton PresidentC. Douglas McConnell Provost and Senior VPIrene Neller VP Communications, Marketing, AdmissionsLauralee Farrer Corporate StorytellerRandall Cole Creative DirectorTJ Lee Managing EditorMichael Wright Associate EditorBecky Still Contributing EditorSusan Carlson Wood Technical EditorDenise Louise Klitsie Principal IllustratorBrandon Hook DesignEric Tai Contributing IllustratorJinna Jin, Miyoung Kim, Emmanuel Moon, Clara Jorge

Ramírez-Johnson Translation Services

CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERSRandall Cole, Mat Fretschel, Nate Harrison, Brandon Hook, Matthew J. Krabill, Olga Lah, TJ Lee, Don Milici, August Miller, Yoselin Montes-Castillo, Michael W. Moore, Don Nocon, James O’Keefe, Andrew Rush, Sharron Strasser, Lisa Svelmoe, Eric Tai, Jonathan Yip

THEOLOGY SECTION ADVISORY BOARDJoel B. Green, PhD, Chair, Dean, School of Theology Ryan Bolger, PhD, Associate Professor of Church in

Contemporary CultureD. Scott Cormode, PhD, Academic Dean, School of

TheologyJ. Andrew Dearman, PhD, Associate Dean, Fuller TexasKurt Fredrickson, PhD, Associate Dean of DMin and

Continuing EducationMark Labberton, PhD, PresidentEvelyne Reisacher, PhD, Associate Professor of Islamic

Studies and Intercultural RelationsBrad D. Strawn, PhD, Evelyn and Frank Freed Professor

of the Integration of Psychology and TheologyMiyoung Yoon Hammer, PhD, Assistant Professor of

Marital and Family Therapy

FULLER MAGAZINE ADMINISTRATIVE ADVISORY BOARDMary Hubbard Given VP for Alumni and Church RelationsTodd Johnson William K. and Delores S. Brehm Associate

Professor of Worship, Theology, and the ArtsFred Messick Associate VP for Public AffairsSteve Smith Director of AdmissionsMarcus Sun Director of Marketing Strategy and AnalyticsJon Yasuda VP for Development


10 A Child of Exile Korean and born in Peru, Josi Hwang considers identity

14 Walking the Walk Together in Orvieto Nate Risdon reflects on learning communally on la passeggiata

20 Cycles Ryan and Suzy Weeks’s story of romance, ministry, and cycling

22 To Live and Die Well Tommy Givens’s story of the death of his father

28 Every Survivor Has a Story Life among tsunami survivors is a long-term work and joy

32 Gilberto Lugo During the breaks in accounts processing work, beauty emerges


36 Introduction: Why Evangelical? Oliver D. Crisp, Guest Theology Editor

37 A British Perspective on Evangelicalism Oliver D. Crisp

40 How Evangelicals and Fuller Are Shaped by Their Traditions George M. Marsden

44 What Does Fuller Mean by “Evangelical”? Charles J. Scalise

48 Confessions of a Reluctant Evangelical Erin Dufault-Hunter

52 African Americans and Evangelicalism James Earl Massey

56 Evangelicals, Pentecostals, and Charismatics Amos Yong

60 Ways Forward for Western Evangelicals Ryan Bolger


64 Church Planting68 Loss74 Interfaith Dialogue


6 From Mark Labberton, President78 Fuller Faculty82 Benediction82 About Fuller Theological Seminary



There’s a too-narrow hallway outside our magazine editorial office that’s just long enough to hang all 84 pages of a magazine-in-process. Professor Emeritus Bill Pannell passed through recently, and his eye was caught by a subject he’s championed all his life: evangelicalism. Reading a few lines from a writer whose views depart from his own, he said eagerly, “Mercy, I’ll look forward to reading this! See what we’re made of!”

The “we” to whom Bill refers is an eclectic community of people: in defining our magazine’s audience, we estimated a whopping 54,000 people directly connected to Fuller as alumni, trustees, staff, faculty, administrators, donors, and friends living in 130 countries. An audience of that size means more individual stories than we can include, so in developing magazine content we earnestly consider what we call “the grids” of gender, ethnicity, location, nation, school, age, function, calling, and perspective that define diversity among us. We think about the student sending a magazine to a supportive family member, our president leaving it with a potential scholarship donor, a trustee giving it to a seatmate on the plane, or a faculty member handing it to a prospective student. Inevitably there will be some who feel their perspectives are not fully expressed, and in this we must rely on the Spirit to unite us through the transcendence of story. Still, we hope each will be proud to say, “this is my Fuller community.”

Through the print and online version of FULLER, people all over the world can read the same stories and consider the same theological conversations.

It is our hope that this will strengthen the connections within our global neighborhood as we continue to learn, teach, and mature in faith together.

In this issue you will find we’ve added something new, an amber plus sign (+)indicating there’s more to the story we’d like to share. It might be expanded material online (+ see videos of Tommy Givens on living with death or Gilbert Lugo and his amazing Bic pen drawings), a tidbit we couldn’t resist cramming in (+ did you know that Martin Luther King Jr. was bailed out of jail by Billy Graham after civil rights marches?), or a chance to credit artists whose work is a vital form of Fuller’s self-expression (+ President Labberton was a champion for including art in the new magazine).

There’s also more to the story of being evangelical, which is why we chose to focus on it in the theology section of this, our second issue. “Evangelical” has been defined beyond recognition by some outside the community of Fuller, and though there are many interpretations of the word even among us, engaging that conversation for ourselves is critical. Because there’s always more to the story. (+ Always.)

+ There’s More to the StoryTOORY

+ LAURALEE FARRER is editor-in-chief of FULLER magazine, Fuller’s corporate storyteller and artist-in-residence for the Brehm Center for Worship, Theology, and the Arts.


From Mark Labberton, President


Labels may be necessary, but they sel-dom seem adequate. When we use la-bels, our minds and spirits easily give way to stereotyping and reduction-ism. But since we can’t give up our la-bels, it is important from time to time to examine them and to make them as clear as possible, to distinguish what we mean and what we don’t mean.

In what ways, then, is “evangelical” a key label in the identity and mission of Fuller Theological Seminary?

THEOLOGYWhen we confess ourselves to be “evangelical,” we are making affirma-tions that point toward the centrality of the gospel: the revelation of God in Jesus Christ through whose sav-ing life, death, and resurrection we are adopted into God’s family, given God’s Spirit, and called to live togeth-er under God’s reign. This is the “good news” to which Scripture points us with supreme authority and faithful-

ness. When Fuller Seminary affirms that we are “evangelical,” this is what we confess, and we do so with earnest faith, intellectual commitment, schol-arly inquiry, confessional trust, and communal hope.

This essential understanding of “evangelical” does not always rest eas-ily among some of our brothers and sisters who also identify themselves by this name, using, it might be said, a less lean set of descriptors. They use

Usar etiquetas puede ser necesario aunque pocas veces sea adecuado. Cuando usamos etiquetas, nuestra mente y espíritu fácilmente dan paso a los prejuicios y estereotipos. Pero ya que estamos acostumbrados a las eti-quetas y no podemos renunciar a ellas, es importante examinarlas de vez en cuando para distinguir claramente lo que queremos y no queremos decir.

“Evangélicos” es una palabra que implica valores y problemas, inclusive para los que se identifican con esa ter-minología. Su significado es variado y debatido, sus afinidades pueden ser simultáneamente de amor, aprecio, controversia y confusión. Muchos se pueden preguntar: ¿El término

“evangélicos” continúa siendo una designación útil? Si es así, la pregunta más importante es: ¿Qué significa la palabra “evangélicos” para la identidad y misión del Seminario Teológico de Fuller?

TEOLOGÍACuando confesamos ser “evangélicos”, estamos afirmando el punto central del evangelio: Jesucristo es la revel-ación de Dios, mediante el podemos ser salvos y librarnos de la muerte. Mediante su resurrección y ascensión hemos sido adoptados a la familia de Dios dándonos su espíritu y llamán-donos a vivir juntos en el reino de Dios. Estas son las “Buenas Nuevas” que

mencionan las escrituras con una auto-ridad suprema y fidedigna. Cuando el Seminario Teológico de Fuller afirma que somos “evangélicos”, estamos con-fesándolo y lo hacemos con una fe fer-viente, con un compromiso intelectual, una confesión verdadera, un propósito misionero y una esperanza de toda la comunidad.

Este entendimiento esencial de “evangélicos” no siempre es fácil entre algunos hermanos y hermanas que también se identifican usando este nombre, se podría decir que es un conjunto de descripciones menos “sesgada”. Se puede utilizar la palabra “evangélicos” para incluir una serie de definiciones y compromisos rela-

이름표는 필요하기도 하지만 그것만으로 충분

한 것 같지는 않습니다. 이름표를 사용할 때,

우리의 생각과 정신은 쉽게 고정관념과 환원

주의에 빠지게 됩니다. 우리가 이름표를 포기

할 수 없다면 가끔은 그것들을 점검하여 가능

한 한 명확히 해 두는 것이 중요합니다. 이름

표를 통해 우리가 의미한 것과 그렇지 않은

것을 구분하기 위해서 말입니다.

“복음주의”라는 말은 가치와 문제점을

모두 지니고 있습니다. 자신을 복음주의라

고 생각하는 사람들 간에도 그 해석은 다양

하며 토론의 주제가 됩니다. 이 단어가 갖는

친근감이 사랑받고 소중히 여겨지는 동시에

논쟁과 혼동의 대상이 되는 것입니다. 많은

사람이 “‘복음주의’라는 말이 여전히 유용한

명칭입니까?” 라고 묻는 것도 그리 놀라운 일이

아닙니다. 여기서 가장 중요한 질문은 이것입니

다. “그렇다면, 풀러신학대학원의 정체성과 사명

에 있어서 “복음주의”라는 이름표는 무엇을 의미

하는 것입니까?”

신학 우리가 자신을 “복음주의”라고 고백할 때,

우리는 복음의 중심성을 확증하는 것입니

다. 즉, 예수 그리스도 안에 나타난 하나님의

계시, 그분의 구원의 생명, 죽음, 부활, 그리

고 승천을 통해 우리는 하나님의 가족으로

입양되고, 하나님의 영을 받아, 하나님의 통치

아래 함께 살도록 부르심을 입는다는 선언입

니다. 이것이 “복음”이요, 성경이 절대적인

권위와 신실함으로 우리에게 증거하는 바입

니다. 풀러신학대학원이 스스로 “복음주의”

라고 주장할 때, 이것이 우리의 고백이며,

우리는 진실한 믿음과 지적인 헌신, 진정한 신뢰,

선교적 목표와 공동체적 소망으로 그렇게 고백

하는 것입니다.

cionados entre si, por ejemplo, la naturaleza de la expiación, la naturaleza de la inspiración y autoridad de la Biblia, el bautismo del Espíri-tu Santo y la esperanza escatológica del reino de Dios. Aparte de los debates de la década de 1970 que trataban sobre el cambio en nuestra declaración de Fe de la “inerrancia” a la “in-falibilidad” de las Sagradas Escrituras, estos debates de las definiciones no han sido central-es para la historia del Seminario Teológico de Fuller.

Identificándonos como “evangélicos” para describir nuestra orientación teológica, nos mantiene unidos a lo que Fuller ha entendido como el buen terreno de la Ortodoxia Cristia-na. En la Ortodoxia Cristiana, la fe personal y comunitaria pueden florecer y prosperar para nosotros como sus discípulos y testigos quienes

testificamos acerca del amor transformador de la encarnación, justificación y redención de Dios en Jesucristo. Todo lo que hacemos como institución se hace en el contexto de este marco y visión teológica.

IGLESIACuando confesamos que somos “evangélicos”, estamos afirmando que somos miembros de una iglesia que trasciende las afiliaciones de-nominacionales o estructuras eclesiásticas. Los “Evangélicos” comparten simultáneamente una serie de creencias centrales y unidad las cuales promueven una misión común. Las con-gregaciones “evangélicas” se pueden encontrar en muchas denominaciones, desde las no de-nominacionales a los Bautistas, Presbiterianos, Episcopales y otras.

Ciertamente esto es real para Fuller por ser un seminario multidenominacional con más de 100 denominaciones que forman el cuerpo estudiantil y de la facultad. “Evangélicos” ha sido una terminología de hospitalidad para las personas procedentes de un variado espectro de practicas eclesiásticas y congregacionacio-nales, forma de gobernanza, de los sacramen-tos, o de las liturgias, pero han encontrado una comunidad que participa de la misma orient-ación teológica.

En este sentido, “evangélicos” ha sido una terminología valiosa que destaca y nombra lo que en Fuller creemos es el corazón de la fe cristiana-“el evangelio”-las buenas nuevas- el centro donde nuestra formación vocacional, bíblica, teológica, histórica, cultural, psi-cológica y acciones profesionales se forman y

“복음주의”에 대한 이와 같은 본질적인 이해가, 덜

“간결한” 서술어들을 사용하여 자신들을 복음주의라

고 간주하는 우리의 지체들 사이에서 항상 쉽게 받아들

여지는 것은 아닙니다. 그들은 “복음주의”라는 이름에,

예를 들어 속죄의 본질, 성경의 영감과 권위의 본질,

성령 세례, 그리고 하나님 나라에 대한 종말론적

소망에 관계된 더 넓은 정의들과 약속들을 포함하고자

합니다. 우리의 신앙 선언문에서 성경에 관하여 “성경

무오”에서 “성경 무류”로 전환한 것과 관련한 1970년대의

논쟁들을 제외하고는, 이러한 다른 개념적 논의들이 풀러

역사의 중심에 놓인 적이 없습니다.

우리의 신학적 지향을 묘사하기 위해 “복음주의”

라는 이름을 사용하는 것은 풀러가 개신교 정통의

좋은 토양이라고 이해해 온 것에 뿌리를 두게 합니다.

다시 말해, 개인적이고 공동체적인 신앙이 우리로 예수

그리스도 안에 있는 하나님의 성육신적이고 변화시키는

사랑, 의로움, 공의를 증거하고 증명하는 제자요, 증인

으로 번성하게 하는 토양 말입니다. 학교로서 우리가

하는 모든 것이 바로 이러한 신학적 비전과 틀 안에서 이루

어지는 것입니다.

교회 우리가 자신을 “복음주의”라고 고백할 때, 우리는

교파적 배경이나 교회의 구조들을 초월한 하나의 교회에

속한 일원임을 선언하는 것입니다. 이러한 이유로

“복음주의자들”은 공통의 핵심적 신앙과 일체감과 사명

모두를 함께 나눕니다. “복음주의” 회중들은 교파에 속하

지 않은 교회는 물론, 침례교, 장로교, 성공회 등 다양한

교파들에서 찾아볼 수 있습니다.

초 교파적 신학 대학원으로서의 풀러는 백 개가 넘는

교파의 사람들을 하나의 교수진과 학생 조직으로 모았다

는 점에서 진정한 복음주의 학교임이 분명합니다 “복음주

의”라는 이름이 체제나 성례나 예배의식이 서로 다른 매우

광범위한 교회적, 회중적 관습을 갖고 있음에도 불구하고

공유된 신학적 지향 안에서 공통의 공동체를 발견한 사람들

에게 환대의 개념이 되어 주었던 것입니다.

“evangelical” to include a further set of defini-tions and commitments related, for example, to the nature of the atonement, to the inspira-tion and authority of the Bible, to the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and to the eschatological hope of the kingdom. Apart from debates in the 1970s over the change in our Statement of Faith from “inerrancy” to “infallibility” regarding Scripture, these other definitional debates have not been core to Fuller’s history.

Using “evangelical” to describe our theolog-ical orientation keeps us rooted in what Fuller

has understood to be the good soil of Christian orthodoxy, in which personal and communal faith can flourish for us as disciples and wit-nesses who testify to and demonstrate the incarnational, transformative love, righteous-ness, and justice of God in Jesus Christ. All that we do as an institution is done in the con-text of this theological vision and frame.

CHURCHWhen “evangelical” refers to a community of Christian believers, it is typically an adjec-

tive that describes the core of their theolog-ical commitments, not a description of their denominational affiliation or ecclesial struc-tures. “Evangelical” congregations can be found in many different denominations, from nondenominational to Baptist to Presbyterian to Episcopalian and more.

This has certainly been an aid for Fuller as a multidenominational seminary that draws people from over 100 denominations into one faculty and student body. “Evangelical” has been a term of welcome to people who come


+ Exodus IX (2005) acrylic on canvas

Caron G. Rand

Artwork by Rand, a friend of Fuller, was exhibited in

Fuller Pasadena’s Payton Hall where

weekly chapel is held.

from a very wide spectrum of ecclesial and congregational practices, whether of gover-nance or of sacraments or of liturgy.

In this sense, “evangelical” has been a valu-able term that highlights and names what we at Fuller believe is the heart of the Christian faith, the center from which our biblical, theo-logical, historical, cultural, psychological, and vocational formation and reflections unfold. It names what I mean when I say that we are an institution with roots in orthodoxy, the roots that explain the life that is in the church.

CULTURE“Evangelicalism” can also refer to Christian subculture(s). This is no monolith, but rather a wide variety of social, economic, and political views and associations. Each expression re-flects a way of seeing and interacting with cul-

ture and might be politically left or right, eth-nically mixed or hom*ogeneous, rich or poor.

The Fuller community includes many ex-pressions of “evangelical” subcultures. This is what makes conversations at Fuller often so robust and valuable as we learn to listen to and hear one another. It also explains why such conversations can be confusing when we think a particular subculture is the only genu-ine expression of evangelicalism.

The media stereotyping within and around “evangelicals” can suggest that the name ap-plies to one view of social ethics—relating to, for example, abortion or hom*osexuality. This view is reinforced within some evangelical ranks where it is believed that the theological convictions that guide evangelicals lead to one consistent conclusion regarding such issues.

Many in evangelical subcultures are un-

easy acknowledging that the Bible’s authority and the Bible’s meaning are not synonymous or necessarily transparent. Faithful listening and reflection under the authority of Scrip-ture and in response to the Lordship of Jesus Christ does not mean unanimity or easy uni-ty. The same is true for the whole church, and it is also true for those who call themselves “evangelical.”

Fuller Theological Seminary is an “evan-gelical” institution that gratefully and faith-fully benefits from this central theological affirmation. I take it for granted that making this confession does not make such faith un-contested, and that we can and must continue always to wrestle with the complexity and windswept landscape in which we speak and live such a hope—for the sake of the church and the world.

desarrollan. Esto es lo que quiero decir cuando digo que somos una institución con raíces ort-odoxas: Nosotros estamos arraigados en el evangelio que se ha estado pasando y viviendo en nuestra comunidad a través de las edades y en cada generación.

CULTURACuando confesamos que somos “evangélicos”, estamos afirmando que dentro de la unidad de la iglesia hay distintas subculturas cristianas. El Evangelicalismo no es monolítico, dentro de la tribu evangélica encontramos una amplia variedad de aspectos sociales, económicos y la asociación de diversos puntos de vistas. Cada expresión refleja una forma de interactuar con la cultura, la política puede ser de izquierda o derecha, étnicamente mixta u hom*ogénea, rica o pobre.

La comunidad de Fuller incluye muchas

expresiones de subculturas “evangélicas”. Esto contribuye a que las conversaciones de Fuller sean generalmente más sólidas y valiosas a medida que aprendemos y nos escuchamos unos a otros. También encontramos que este tipo de conversaciones pueden ser confusas si se piensa que una subcultura en particular es la única expresión genuina del evangelicalismo.

El estereotipo central dentro y fuera de los “evangélicos” puede sugerir que el nombre se aplica a la relación ética social, por ejemplo, el aborto o la hom*osexualidad. Estos puntos de vista están reforzados en algunas filas evan-gélicas donde se cree que las convicciones teológicas que guían los evangélicos los condu-cen a una conclusión segura y coherente con cualquier asunto de importancia.

En algunas subculturas evangélicas, muchos se sienten incómodos al reconocer que la auto-ridad y significado de la Biblia no son necesari-

amente transparentes ni sinónimos. Escuchar fielmente y reflexionar bajo la autoridad de las Sagradas Escrituras en respuesta al Señorío de Jesucristo no significa necesariamente una fácil unidad ni uniformidad. Por supues-to, lo mismo es cierto para toda la iglesia y también es cierto que todos los que se llaman a sí mismos “evangélicos”.

El Seminario Teológico de Fuller es una institución “evangélica” que se beneficia con fidelidad y gratitud de esta afirmación central, histórica y teológica. Esta confesión no hace que la fe sea indiscutible. Podemos y debemos seguir luchando siempre con la complejidad de los vientos que azotan el paisaje en el que hablamos y vivimos con una esperanza- por el bien de la iglesia y del mundo- y por la “Buenas Nuevas” que gozosamente proclamamos, la realidad a la que cualquiera buena etiqueta señalará.

이런 의미에서 “복음주의”는 풀러가 믿는 것이

개신교 신앙의 정수, 즉 “복음”이라는 것을 강조하고

명명하는 가치 있는 용어가 되어 왔습니다. 이 복음이

우리의 성경적,신학적, 역사적, 문화적, 심리학적, 그리

고 소명적인 형성과 실행이 전개되는 중심이라는 신앙의

고백입니다. 이것이 우리가 정통에 기반을 둔 학교라고

말할 때 제가 의미하는 바입니다. 우리의 뿌리는 시대를

거쳐 모든 세대의 공동체를 통해 전해 내려오고 살아져

왔던 복음에 있습니다.

문화 우리가 자신을 “복음주의”라고 고백할 때, 우리는

교회의 통일성 안에 독특한 개신교 소 문화들이 존재하고

있음을 확언하는 것입니다. 복음주의는 하나의 거대한 단일

조직이 아니며 복음주의 집단 내부에도 다양한 사회, 경제,

정치적 견해와 유대들이 존재합니다. 각각의 표현은 문화를

이해하고 교류하는 방식을 반영하며 정치적으로 좌파 혹은

우파일 수도, 인종적으로 혼합되었거나 동족일 수도, 가난

하거나 부유할 수도 있습니다.

풀러 공동체는 “복음주의” 소 문화들의 많은 표현

을 수용합니다. 이것이 서로에게 귀 기울이는 것을

배우는 풀러에서의 대화를 흔히 매우 생기있고 가치 있게

만드는 이유입니다. 이것이 또한 만약 누가 특정 소 문화

가 복음주의의 유일하고도 진정한 표현이라고 여긴다면, 왜

이러한 대화가 혼돈에 빠질 수도 있는지를 설명해 줍니다.

“복음주의자들” 내부나 그들을 둘러싼 미디어의

정형화는 이 이름이, 예를 들어 낙태나 동성애에 관련

된 사회 윤리 중 하나의 견해에 해당한다고 암시할 수도

있습니다. 이러한 견해는 복음주의자들이 따르는 신학적

신념들이 어떤 중대 사안에 관하여 하나의 지속적인

결론을 도출하게 한다고 믿는 일부 복음주의 계열 내부에서

강화되고 있습니다.

일부 복음주의 소 문화 안에서 많은 이들이 성경의 권위

와 성경의 의미가 동일하지 않다거나 혹은 반드시 명백한

것은 아니라는 주장을 인정하기 불편해합니다. 성경의 권위

아래 예수 그리스도의 주인 되심에 반응하는 신실한 경청과

반성이 반드시 만장일치나 쉬운 통일을 뜻하는 것은 아닙니다.

물론, 교회 전체에 대해서도 마찬가지이며 자신을 “복음주

의”라고 칭하는 사람들에게도 동일하게 적용됩니다.

풀러신학대학원은 이러한 중심적인, 역사적, 신학

적 주장으로부터 겸허하고도 신실하게 유익을 얻는

“복음주의” 학교입니다. 이러한 고백이 있다고 해서 그런

신앙이 도전받지 않는 것은 아닙니다. 우리가 맞서

싸워야 하는 현실은 복잡하고 강한 바람이 몰아치는 거친

환경입니다. 그 안에서 우리는 교회와 세상을 위하여

그러한 소망과 우리가 기쁨으로 선포하는 “복음,” 즉 좋은

이름표가 가리키는 실제를 말하고 살아야 하는 것입니다.


J osi Hwang was the only member of her family to be born in Peru. She was a “miracle baby” who came after a series of

devastating miscarriages. Her parents often said that she was “Peruvian” because she was a Peruvian citizen, played in Peruvian dirt, breathed Peruvian air. She spoke Spanish among friends and never knew life in a different country.

All of that led to a small but pivotal conversation when Josi was in second grade. Explaining something to her parents, little Josi repeated the words her parents often used: “I’m not Korean, I’m Peruvian!” It left them speechless. They told her, “No, you’re Korean.” She was born to Korean parents, reared in a Korean house-hold, taught Korean values. She spoke Korean with her parents and looked different from every other person in her country.

Lack of clarity had always been a part of Josi’s life, but now it was exacerbated. Her parents’ correction was one more reminder of

what had plagued her whole life: she didn’t belong. Remarks from classmates that she was “Chinese” cut deeper. Stares on the city streets were uncomfortable. When she vacationed in Korea to visit family, she was welcomed lovingly and thoroughly, but when a joke or idiom went over her head, even her family would explain, “She didn’t grow up here.”

The dissonance grew. She felt Peruvian on the inside, but was told she was not because of her outside. On the subway in Korea, she realized that she looked like everyone around her. No one gawked. No one called her Chinese. “I am like them,” she thought. And also, “I am not like them.”

Josi came to the United States to earn a bachelor’s degree in psychology. There she began to deal with the isolation of being a nomad struggling to live where she didn’t belong, looking for a trajectory to a place where she did. While reading through the book

J osi Hwang es la única de su familia nacida en Perú. Ella ha sido considerada “una bebé milagro”, porque nació después

de una devastadora serie de abortos involuntarios. Durante su crecimiento muy a menudo sus padres le mencionaban que ella era “Peruana” porque era ciudadana peruana, jugaba en el suelo y tierra peruana y respiraba el aire peruano. Ella hablaba español con sus amigos y nunca conoció la vida de otro país diferente al suyo, Perú.

Todas estas vivencias guiaron a Josi a una pequeña e importante información cuando estaba en segundo grado. Mientras le explicaba algo a sus padres, la pequeña Josi repitió las palabras que muy frecuentemente escuchaba de ellos mismos: “¡Yo no soy coreana, yo soy peruana!.” Al escuchar esta declaración, sus padres se quedaron mudos y sorprendidos. Ellos le dijeron, “No, tu eres coreana”. Josi nació de padres coreanos, criada en una casa con costumbres y valores coreanos. Ella hablaba coreano con sus padres y su contextura física era diferente a las demás personas en su país.

En la vida de Josi las cosas no han sido claras y ahora se están poniéndose mas difíciles. Las correcciones de sus padres eran un

recordatorio del sentimiento que la había atormentado toda la vida: Ella no pertenecía. Los comentarios de sus compañeros quienes se referían a ella como “La China” le llegaba más profundo. Las miradas fijas de las personas en la calle la hacían sentir muy incomoda. Cuando ella fue de vacaciones a Corea para visitar su familia, fue recibida con mucho amor, pero cuando hacían algún chiste o expresión idiomática que ella no entendía, su familia explicaba, “Ella no creció aquí”.

La discrepancia crecía. Ella se sentía Peruana en su interior, pero le decían que no lo era por su físico exterior. Mientras estaba en el metro en Corea, ella notaba que físicamente todos eran iguales a ella, nadie se sorprendía al mirarla. Nadie la llamo China. Pensó: “Yo soy como ellos, pero yo no soy como ellos”

Josi llego a los Estados Unidos para estudiar una licenciatura en sicología. Empezó a sentir esa soledad y aislamiento de ser una extranjera tratando de vivir en un lugar al que no pertenecía, en busca de una trayectoria en el lugar que había escogido. Durante su lectura del libro de Jeremías, Josi empezó a sentir la seguridad y garantía que solo Dios puede dar. Leyendo la historia de los Israelitas exiliados y sin tierra, Josi encontró su propia historia.

황 조시는 그녀의 가족 중 유일하게 페루에서 태어났습니다. 그녀는

거듭된 충격적인 유산 끝에 태어난 “기적의 아기”였습니다. 그녀의

부모는 자주 그녀는 페루사람이라고 부추기기도 했습니다. 그도 그럴 것이

그녀는 페루 시민이었고 페루의 공기를 마시며 페루의 흙먼지 속에서 놀았기

때문입니다. 친구들과 스페인어로 말하는 그녀는 다른 나라에서의 삶은

알 길이 없었습니다.

이 모든 것은 조시가 2학년이었을 때 있었던 사소하지만 중요한 한

편의 대화로 이어집니다. 부모에게 무언가를 설명하면서 어린 조시는

부모가 자주 하던 말을 되풀이했습니다. “나는 한국인이 아니에요, 나는

페루사람이라고요!” 그녀의 부모는 말문이 막혔습니다. “그렇지 않아, 너는

한국인이다.” 부모가 바로잡았습니다. 그녀는 한국인 부모에게서 태어났고

한국인 가정에서 자랐으며 한국적 가치를 배웠습니다. 부모와는 한국어로

이야기했고 페루 사람들의 외모와는 닮은 구석이 없었습니다.

혼란은 늘 조시 삶의 일부분이었지만 이젠 한층 심해졌습니다. 부모의

단언이 지금까지 내내 그녀를 괴롭혀 왔던 것을 한 번 더 생각나게 하고

말았습니다. 그녀는 어디에도 속하지 않았다는 사실 말입니다. 반 친구들이

그녀를 “차이니즈”라고 했던 것이 깊은 상처가 된 적도 있었습니다.

길거리에서 사람들이 쳐다보는 것도 불편했습니다. 반면 가족을 방문하며

한국에서 휴가를 보냈을 때 그녀는 따뜻하고 온전하게 환영받았습니다. 물론

그녀의 이해를 넘는 농담이나 관용표현들이 나오면 그녀의 부모가 나서서 “

얘는 여기서 자란 아이가 아니랍니다.”라고 설명하곤 했습니다.

갈등은 점점 커졌습니다. 그녀는 내면적으로 페루사람과 다름없었지만,

외모 때문에 사람들은 그녀를 페루사람으로 여기지 않았던 것입니다. 한국의

지하철 안에서 그녀가 깨달은 것은 주변의 모든 사람과 자신이 닮았다는

점이었습니다. 아무도 그녀를 멍하니 바라보지 않았습니다. 아무도 그녀를

차이니즈라고 부르지 않았습니다. “나는 저들과 같구나!” 라는 생각이 들었고,

역시 “나는 저들과 같지 않아.” 하는 생각도 스쳤습니다.

조시는 대학에서 심리학을 전공하기 위해 미국으로 왔습니다. 그곳에서

그녀는 자신이 속하지 않은 곳에서 살기 위해, 그리고 자신이 속한 어떤 곳을

찾기 위해 분투했던 방랑자로의 고립감을 다루기 시작했습니다. 예레미아서를

읽으면서 조시는 하나님의 간섭 하심과 보호하심을 느끼기 시작했습니다. 성경

안에, 추방되어 나라를 잃은 이스라엘 백성들의 이야기 속에서 조시는 자신의

이야기를 발견했습니다.

“너희는 집을 짓고 거기에 살며 텃밭을 만들고 그 열매를 먹으라 아내를 맞이하여 자녀를 낳으며 너희 아들이 아내를 맞이하며 너희 딸이 남편을 맞아 그들로 자녀를 낳게 하여 너희가 거기에서 번성하고 줄어들지 아니하게 하라 너희는 내가 사로잡혀 가게 한 그 성읍의 평안을 구하고 그를 위하여 여호와께 기도하라 이는 그 성읍이 평안함으로 너희도 평안할 것임이라.” (예레미야 29:5-7, 개역개정)

A Child of Exile











페루 선교사역에 대한 소명에 신실하게 응답하고, 연이은 유산의 고통을

지나, 낯선 땅에서 이방인으로 살아온 그녀의 부모가 걸어왔던 그 길은 그녀

자신의 길을 정의하고 있었습니다. 그녀는 이방 아이였던 것입니다. 이 말씀을

가슴으로 받으며 그녀는 자신의 삶에 대한 하나님의 부르심을 깨달았습니다.

그것은 그녀가 모든 역경과 소망 가운데 태어났던 그 이방 도시의 평안을

구하는 것이었습니다. 그녀가 페루인이면서 한국인인 것에는 이유가 있었던

것입니다. 그녀도 그녀의 출생지도 우연이 아니었습니다. 그녀의 아버지를

페루로 부르셨고 이제 조시를 다시 페루로 부르시는 하나님께서 놀랍게

인도하시고 정하신 일이었습니다. 아무도 알아채지 못했을지라도 조시는

자신이 속한 곳을 알고 있었습니다.

“미국에서 공부를 마치면, 페루로 돌아가야지.” 그녀는 생각했습니다. “

이곳은 내가 잠시 머무는 곳일 뿐이야.” 그녀는 미국에 뿌리내리는 것을 원치

않았습니다. 그녀가 자신에게 맞는 반구로 돌아가는 것은 그저 시간문제일

뿐이었습니다. 잠시 머물며 이곳에서 일하고 먹고 자고 공부하겠지만 결국 떠날


그런데 예레미야의 말씀이 뇌리에서 떠나지 않았습니다. 풀러에서

임상심리학 박사과정을 시작했을 때, 그녀는 트레비스 연구소 내에 불법

체류자들의 자녀들을 대상으로 하는 프로젝트에 참여하게 되었습니다. 그녀가

인터뷰하러 그들의 집을 방문했을 때, 대부분 아이들이 두려워했고 연구자들의

동기를 의심했습니다. 조시는 그 아이들이 낯설지 않았습니다. 그들은 정부에서

그들의 부모들을 잡아가면 고아로 남거나 추방당할 수도 있음을 인지하며 살고

있었습니다. 많은 아이가 이미 경험했던 일이었습니다. 페루의 정권교체 기간에

느꼈던 그녀 자신의 공포감이 떠올랐습니다. 부모님이 당장 짐을 싸서 떠나게

되면 어떡하지? 체포되면? 내 나라가 부모님을 공격하면 어떡하지? 그녀의

연구 대상자들이 겪었을 정신적 충격은 그녀 자신의 몫이었을 수도 있었습니다.

“너희는 내가 가게 한 그 성읍의 평안을 구하라.”

단지 생계를 위해 시작한 일이 조시의 소명이 되었습니다. 학위를 받으면

페루로 돌아갈 것을 잘 알고 있었지만, 지금은 그녀가 보내심을 받은 도시, Los

Angeles에 헌신해야 할 때였던 것입니다. 그녀의 팀과 함께했던 그 아이들의

고통에 그녀는 비탄했습니다. “아이들이 이렇게 웃는 걸 본 게 오랜만입니다.”

라는 부모의 말에 그녀는 매우 기뻐했습니다. 조시의 팀은 순수 연구 그 이상을

하고 있었습니다. 그들은 소외되었지만 꿋꿋한 이 아이들의 삶에 눈에 보이는

즉각적인 변화를 만들어 내고 있었던 것입니다. 아이들의 이름을 불러주고

그들과 게임을 하며 놀아주는 단순한 일들이 아이들에게 오랜만에 처음으로

소속감과 안정감을 주었습니다. 그 과정에서 조시 자신도 같은 감정을


학위를 마치면, 그녀의 비자는 만료될 것이고 조시는 고국인 페루로 돌아갈

것입니다. 페루는 그녀에게 고향이고, 뿌리이며, 그녀의 소명이고, 그녀가 일할

곳입니다. 그곳은 그녀가 존재하는 이유의 일부이며, 그녀는 그곳에 처음 자신을

보내신 그 하나님께 순종할 것입니다. 하지만 돌아가면 그녀는 무엇을 하게

될까요? 그건 그녀도 모릅니다. 한 가지 그녀에게 확실한 것은 있습니다. “나는

집을 짓고 거기에 살며 텃밭을 만들고 그 열매를 먹을 것입니다. 나는 결혼을

할 것이며, 내 아들들과 딸들을 혼인시킬 것입니다. 그리고 나는 하나님께서 가게

한 그 이방 성읍의 평안을 구하고 그곳을 위하여 여호와께 기도할 것입니다.”

their lives as strangers in a strange place—had defined her own path: she was a child of exile. By embracing this story, she found God’s call on her own life: to seek the welfare of the city where she had been born in exile, born against all odds or hopes. She was Peruvian and Korean, and she was both for a reason. Neither she nor her place of birth were accidental, but miraculously guided and ordained by the God who called her father to Peru and now called Josi back to Peru. Josi knew where she belonged, even if no one else did.

“When I finish school in the States,” she thought, “I will go back to Peru. I am only a sojourner here.” She refused to be rooted in the United States, because it was only a matter of time before she was back in the correct hemisphere. She would work, eat, sleep, and study as a sojourner, and then be gone.

But the words of Jeremiah haunted her. When she began her PhD in clinical psychology at Fuller, she landed in the Travis Research Institute on a project working with children of undocumented immigrants. As she sat in the homes of interviewees—many of whom were fearful and suspicious of researchers’ motives—Josi felt a connection with the children. They lived with the knowledge that their parents could be snatched away by the government and they could be left orphans or deported from their own country. Many had already experienced it. It reminded Josi of her own fears during power changes in Peru—would her parents be told to pack up and leave? Arrested? Would her country

of citizenship turn on her parents? The trauma in full bloom among her research subjects could have been her own.

“Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you.”What had been simply a job to make ends meet became Josi’s

mission. It was time for her to commit to the city in which she was exiled—Los Angeles—knowing full well that she would return to Peru at the end of her degree. She lamented the suffering of the children her team worked with. She rejoiced when parents said, “I have not seen my children smile like this in a long time.” The team that Josi was a part of was doing more than just research; they were making a tangible, immediate difference in these marginalized yet resilient lives. Things as simple as knowing a child’s name, of playing a game with them, gave the children a sense of belonging and security for the first time in a long time. Josi found herself feeling the same thing in the process.

When Josi’s degree is done, her visa will expire and Josi will return home to Peru. Peru is her home, her origin, her calling, and the place of her vocation. It is part of why she exists, and she will remain loyal to the God who sent her there in the first place. What will she do when she gets back, though? That, she doesn’t know. Of one thing she is certain: “I will build houses and live in them. I will plant gardens and eat their harvest. I will marry and give my sons and daughters in marriage, and I will seek the welfare of the city where God has sent me in exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf.”

REED METCALF [MDiv ’14], storyteller, is Fuller’s Media Relations and Communications Specialist and cofounder of Fuller’s Faith and Science student group in Pasadena.

NATE HARRISON, photographer, is a Fuller videographer and still photographer who graduated from USC’s School of Cinematic Arts.

of Jeremiah, Josi began to feel the prompting and assurance of God. There, in the story of the exiled and landless Israelites, Josi found her own story.

Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear

sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jeremiah 29:5–7 ESV)

The path her parents had walked—through faithfully answering a call to mission work in Peru, through the pain of miscarriages, through

“Construyan casas y habítenlas; planten huertos y coman de su fruto. Cásense, y tengan hijos e hijas; y casen a sus hijos e hijas, para que a su vez ellos les den nietos. Multiplíquense allá, y no disminuyan. Además, busquen el bienestar de la ciudad adonde los he deportado, y pidan al Señor por ella, porque el bienestar de ustedes depende del bienestar de la ciudad” (Jeremías 29:5-7, NVI).

Sus padres, unos fieles misioneros que aceptaron el llamado de servir a Dios en Perú, a pesar de ser extranjeros en un lugar extraño y del gran dolor producido por los abortos involuntarios que sufrieron. Estas experiencias han definido a Josi: Ella era una niña del exilio. Al abrazar y hacer suya esta historia, ella encontró el llamado de Dios para su propia vida: Procurar el bienestar de la ciudad donde nació en el exilio, nacida a pesar de todas las adversidades y esperanzas. Josi era peruana y coreana, era las dos cosas por una razón. Ni ella ni su lugar de nacimiento fueron accidente. Ella era la realización milagrosa ordenada y guiada por Dios quien llamo a sus padres a ministrar en Perú y ahora está llamando a Josi a que regrese a Perú donde sabía que pertenecía aunque otros no lo reconocieran.

“Cuando termine mis estudios en los Estados Unidos voy a regresar a Perú”, pensó “yo solo soy una forastera en este país”. Ella se negó a establecer sus raíces en Estados Unidos, porque solo era cuestión de tiempo antes que estuviera de vuelta en el hemisferio correcto. Ella iba a trabajar, estudiar, comer y dormir como una extranjera, luego regresaría.

Las palabras de Jeremías la perseguían. Cuando ella empezó su (PhD) doctorado en psicología clínica en Fuller, llegó al Instituto de Investigación Travis en un proyecto trabajando con los hijos de los inmigrantes. Cuando se sentaba en las casas de los inmigrantes para las entrevistas, muchos de ellos estaban atemorizados y sospechoso de los motivos de los investigadores. Josi sintió una

conexión con los niños. Estos niños reconocían que en cualquier momento sus padres

podían ser deportados por el gobierno y quedarían huérfanos o expulsados de su propio país. Muchos de ellos ya lo habían experimentado. Esto le recordaba a Josi sus propios miedos durante los cambios de gobierno en Perú. ¿Le hubieran pedido a sus padres que empacaran sus maletas y se fueran? ¿Los arrestarían? ¿El país de su nacimiento deportaría a sus padres?. El trauma de los sujetos de su investigación pudo haber sido el suyo propio.

“Buscar el bienestar de la ciudad donde te he enviado.” Lo que aparentemente fue un simple trabajo, al final se ha

convertido en la misión de Josi. Ha llegado el tiempo para que ella se comprometa a la ciudad donde está exiliada, Los Ángeles sabiendo muy bien que ella regresaría a Perú al final de sus estudios. Ella lamentaba el sufrimiento de los niños con el equipo que trabajaba. Josi se regocijaba de satisfacción cuando los padres le decían: “Por mucho tiempo no veíamos a nuestros hijos reír”. El equipo al cual Josi pertenecía estaba haciendo más que investigaciones; estaban realizando una diferencia tangible en las vidas de estos seres marginados. Actos aparentemente pequeños, como aprender el nombre de los niños o jugar un juego con ellos les daba a los niños un sentido de pertenencia y seguridad por primera vez en mucho tiempo. Josi se encontró a si misma sintiéndose igual que ellos en el proceso.

Cuando Josi termine sus estudios doctorales, su visa de estár en Los Estados Unidos va a expirar y regresará a su casa en Perú. Perú es su casa, sus orígenes, su llamado y el lugar de su vocación. Esto es parte de su existencia y ella permanecerá leal a Dios, quien en primer lugar, fue que la trajo aquí. ¿Qué hará ella cuando regrese? Eso, ella no lo sabe. De una cosa Josi está segura: “Yo edificaré casas y viviré en ellas, plantaré huertos y comeré de ellos. Me casaré y daré a mis hijos e hijas en casamiento. Yo voy a buscar el bienestar de la ciudad donde Dios me ha enviado de exilio y oraré a Dios por ellos.”


F ollowing Professor of Theology and Culture Bill Dyrness around the tiny town of Orvieto, Italy, on an

immersion course feels like watching a kid in a medieval store of delicious delights. The town transforms him, enlivening him with its beauty—he is a man in his element. I have had the pleasure of seeing this side of Bill several times and have witnessed the transformation of so many other faculty, students, and alumni as we study, eat, pray, and walk the ancient streets together. It is something wholly unique to this course, in this town.

My trips to Orvieto with Fuller mark significant moments in my life in which I was transformed too. There is something unexpected that happens there to those of us whose lives are typically run by agendas, schedules, and deadlines. It does not take long to realize that the pace of life is different: Everything and everyone moves slower. Not just an ambling, aimless slowing—though there is that too—but a way of life that savors moments so as to absorb things more deeply. To me, this is a good and godly thing.

Every evening we would join in the Italian ritual of la passeggiata, or “the walk.” This communal stroll through town occurs in the evening following supper and before bedtime, when the whole town makes room for conversation and frequent stops to greet a neighbor, hug an old friend, or hold hands with a loved one. The mood is upbeat, a celebration of the simple joys of life, and there is no stranger, no lonely pilgrim, no orphan or widow—only family, friends, and lovers. Even guests in Orvieto are expected to participate in this nightly amble, and so, every night, a group of 25 people from Fuller Theological Seminary joined in a slow stroll around town trying new gelato flavors, sipping regionally grown wine—always together, always in conversation.

We would pause on the steps of the Duomo di Orvieto (Cathedral of Orvieto), reflecting on our long days of activity and study, letting the profound beauty of the ancient town soak into the marrow of our bones. There is something

Walking the Walk Together in Orvieto

+ This is the second in a series on immersion courses examin-ing why the learning experience they offer is unique. All of the following photographs are of Fuller students and faculty in places they encountered together during a trip that included photogra-pher Richard Min, then a student.











the region so charming. Not long after the Romans had taken over Orvieto, the town experienced an extended period of flourishing that saw the construction of numerous Roman Catholic churches within its small-cliffed borders.

None stands out like the duomo, though, where every group of immersion course participants spends a great deal of time. The duomo was built to serve as the center of all activity in Orvieto in the 13th century and still serves that function today. That’s why it is the center of Fuller’s immersion program. Taking just over 300 years to build, the façade and interior art are a feast for the senses. It takes time, lots of time, to absorb its intricate details, to sit in the piazza and watch as the sunlight bounces off the glittering mosaics, sculpted reliefs, and stained-glass windows of the façade. No wonder the people of this city have learned to take their time absorbing what is around them.

For nearly ten years Dr. Dyrness has led students to Orvieto, using the duomo and other parts of the town as a backdrop to consider medieval religious life and the role of the arts within it. One of my favorite memories comes from

transforming about such conversations that allow us to laugh with abandon as stories are told, to feel the weight of past or current tragedies shared in newly earned confidences, because we willingly allow ourselves to be opened up to one another. Because of the concentrated, unhurried time spent together in shared purpose, we were more apt to see the paradoxes of beauty and ugliness, fragility and strength as creations of the God we were there to study and to worship.

The temptation is to resist this forced slowing and fill the slower, quiet moments with something noisier, but it becomes apparent pretty quickly that it is futile to resist the centuries-old pace of la passeggiata. This is one of the initial tests that one must pass in order to thrive while there. Those who don’t pass are doomed to two weeks of frustration. Those who do adjust find that the slower pace is a gracious gift—an awareness of being in a liminal or “thin space” between terra firma and etherium.

The small town of upper Orvieto sits atop a hill in the Umbrian countryside. From its borders one can see the endless rolling hills, vineyards, and wilderness that make

One of the essential elements to consider when praying the hours, whether you gather in community or pray alone, is the place in which you pray. Thinking with intention about the space will help you to see place as a gift—as a place “set-aside,” as a “sacred” space—rather than as an ordinary, utilitarian space.

This intention can also aid you in stepping out of ordinary time and into the kairos time where God longs to meet us. Such purposeful thinking about holy space is not new. It is in keeping with a long tradition of the use of space in worship dating back to the elaborate and detailed in-structions given to the Israelites for building the Temple in Jerusalem, as found in 1 Kings and 1 Chronicles. This intention was reflected by the early church as worship moved into basilica and with the building of cathedrals. Jesus had holy space in mind when he said this:

The hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. . . . But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. (John 4:21, 23a)

With these words, Jesus was giving divine approval to the idea that sacred space was no longer centralized in one area of one temple in one city; it could be found anywhere in God’s creation. This was certainly a comfort to the Samaritan woman at the well, who represented a people long ignored by much of the culture around them. The Samaritans, and

the space they inhabited, were under God’s grace and purview.

Decades later, the dispersed Jews that were part of the early church living throughout the Roman Empire found great comfort in these words. Travel was dangerous in many parts of the empire and a pilgrim-age to Jerusalem was not to be undertaken lightly. They learned to establish sacred spaces in houses and secret places where they could worship in security.

Jesus’ words can bring that same comfort for people around the world today. They may comfort the woman who cannot travel to a house of worship for fear that she will be jailed or killed by government officials. For her, sacred space might be the corner of her one-bedroom flat where a small icon of St. Nicholas gazes down upon her. God will meet her there. Jesus’ words may comfort the man who might have to live out the rest of his life in isolation as a political prisoner. For him, sacred space might be a little patch of floor lit by the sun for two hours each day. God will meet him there. They may comfort the single father working 16-hour days in order to support his young children. For him, sacred space might be found during one 30-minute meal break when he can gaze out a factory window to watch clouds pushed by the wind. God will meet him there.

+ Excerpted from “A Holy Space” by Nate Risdon, in Praying the Hours in Ordinary Life by L. Farrer and C. Schmidt (Cascade Books, 2010).


“It is space on earth that is made holy, not because of the place itself but because of what God does for humans in that place.” —James F. White

my first year there, when sculptor and Brehm Center Artist-in-Residence Christopher Slatoff accompanied Bill Dryness as a guide for the students. Professor of Evangelism and Spiritual Formation Richard Peace and his wife, Judy, were also there, teaching a class on medieval Catholic spiritual traditions and practices. That year, we decided to lead the students through a monastic exercise known as praying the hours, an exercise that calls on participants to pray eight times a day, setting aside a moment of ordinary time to step into kairos time—God’s time. At these select times throughout the day and night, we intentionally met for corporate worship. The surroundings reminded us of a historical procession of saints who, like us, had set aside time to worship God beyond their ordinary circ*mstances. We joined them in lifting up similar prayers as they had for thousands of years. As our worship came to a close on any given hour, we knew that there were others in some near or far off land taking up the baton of prayer, just beginning to let their words rise as incense to the triune God. We felt ourselves as one small but significant part of an unceasing stream of worship.

For that trip, and to facilitate our experience of the divine hours, I had hauled from Los Angeles a box of 40 unpublished manuscripts of what would later become the book Praying the Hours in Ordinary Life [+ see excerpt at right]. These manuscripts served as our guides, weaving in poetry, prose, song, and chant that were entry points into divine encounters. A group of dedicated students considered the space where we gathered for prayer and arranged the room to best reflect the unique personality of each hour. Before the book was finally published, I had the privilege of adding a chapter to it on our experience of praying the hours in specific sacred spaces.

There is something uniquely holy about sharing regular meals, living quarters, worship, study, and thoughtful journeys with brothers and sisters in Christ in an ancient context where the faith has been similarly shared for thousands of years. Participating in an immersion course, such as the one in Orvieto, brings a focus to those holy experiences that can’t be replicated elsewhere. It is the experience of intentionally living in, and being embraced by, the woven fabric of ordinary time and kairos time that sets it apart. We form deep bonds with our fellow classmates as we work toward a more profound understanding of our faith, the faith of those who went before us, and the faith of those who surround us across this world. And we return home graced with a powerful reminder that God is never, never far from us.

NATE RISDON [MDiv ’07], storyteller, is the associate director of Fuller’s Brehm Center for Worship, Theology, and the Arts.

RICHARD MIN [MDiv ’13], photographer, is a professional photographer whose passion is to tell stories that matter.


After Ryan [’11] and Suzy Weeks [MAT ’14] were married on Fuller’s campus, they rode away

together on a Chauffeur bicycle—a bike Ryan had built years before, unaware how it would become an integral part of their story.

“We both came from work in international development and had a passion for the poor,” Suzy said. “Ryan was a missionary for three years in Sudan, and I was doing development work in upstate New York. We met at our very first class at Fuller in 2011.” Soon after meeting, Ryan pedaled uphill to Suzy’s apartment on that chauffeur, helped her on, and took her on the first of many dates: a bike tour of Pasadena. A triathlon enthusiast, Ryan was passionate about biking as an outlet for exercise and exploration, a natural and sustainable form of transportation, and a choice that allows for connection with neighbors and community. Why did Suzy love bikes? For a simpler reason: “To be close to Ryan!” The question “can we ride there?” determined how they spent their time for the duration of their dating relationship. If the answer was “yes,” they pulled out the chauffeur and enjoyed the Southern California night air on their way to a coffee shop or an outdoor concert.

One day while studying in the Hubbard Library, a friend showed Ryan a craigslist ad for a used triathlon bike. “The frame alone was worth close to what he was asking for the whole bike,” Ryan remembers. “If we opened up the parts to the world, we could probably make some decent money off it.” A few days later, he was taking that bike apart in his living room in order to sell the parts for a profit.

Within a few months, Ryan was finding and dismantling bikes, with Suzy cleaning and shipping the parts. It was an organic process, and as they looked around at the bike parts stacked in the room, they knew that their business, Around the Cycle, was born. When they were married soon after, they looked for a getaway vehicle and that chauffeur bike was an obvious choice. “Our relationship, our studies, our wedding—even our business started in that Fuller library,” says Ryan, looking back.

The success of their business led to opening a bike shop in the same neighborhood where they attend church—an area that sees extreme wealth and poverty in close contact with each other. Around the Cycle was perfectly situated to bridge both neighborhoods. Wealthy neighbors would regularly buy and sell gear they no longer wanted, leaving the Weeks with good

deals on well-made bicycles. “Bikes are crucial in low-income areas,” says Ryan. “We see part of our work as sourcing from the rich to give to the poor.” It’s a way for them to share the gospel with their actions: “We both have a heart for holistic development and ministry, and we see that example in Jesus. It’s not only about getting people saved,” Ryan says. Suzy adds, “It’s about renewing neighborhoods, too.”

When they have a customer with very little to spare, they’re generous with payment plans: “One time it took a guy three months to pay us $20,” Suzy remembers. Still, Around the Cycle is a business, and Ryan wants to honor God in sustainable ways. “You have all these ideas and aspirations, but starting a business takes time. I decided to give myself grace. I felt like God was telling me, ‘just run a good business.’” The Weeks have worked hard to let kingdom values permeate their business practices: they’re careful to offer honest prices on bikes, and “we’ve tried to provide value on both ends and stay others-focused,” Ryan stresses. “We want to honor the city, the government, and our customers. We’re for our customers before ourselves.”

Ryan and Suzy Weeks intend to move back to Africa to return to international development work, and they’ll take what they learn in Pasadena—plus their love for bikes—with them to the mission field. “The financial model of missionaries relying on the full support of churches is unstable,” says Ryan. “We are really informed by what Dr. Bryant Myers taught us to ask: ‘How do we walk with the poor without hurting them?’ We are interested in creating wealth and value in a community.” As Suzy says, “Bikes are translatable across any culture or language. Every socioeconomic class likes biking—the poor African taxi driver and the millionaires biking around the Rose Bowl. They all enjoy it the same.”

When they have a day off, you’ll still see them riding. Suzy says, “It’s an important part of our lifestyle, and even though it’s our business, we still love it.” Now the chauffeur bike leans against a light post in front of the shop to attract attention and bring in street traffic. They’ve ridden that bike through each stage of their life—a bike repurposed and well-loved, transporting them together in their work for the kingdom of God.

MICHAEL WRIGHT [MAT ’12], storyteller, is Fuller’s Editorial and Social Media Specialist. He writes about spirituality and the arts at


+ Suzy and Ryan Weeks were married in spring of 2014 on the Fuller lawn with a reception in the Garth. Their “getaway” vehicle was a classic chauffeur bicycle. A video by Nate Harrison can be seen online, and this wedding photo is used with the generous permission of Erich Chen.











T ommy Givens could make the drive in his sleep—the 30-plus miles cutting a path from Pasadena, where

he lived and worked, to his hometown of Santa Clarita, California. He’d never made the journey at 12:00 a.m. before. Midnight on the dot, he noticed, as he glanced at the glowing numbers on the dash. With his jaw set, he thought about his father, the reason for many treks through the foothills over the past year. Tom Givens had been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease just 18 months before, and the deterioration of his body seemed to happen both in the blink of an eye and at a tortuously slow pace.

Now it was over. Tommy thought back a few nights, when he sat with his father in his parents’ living room; Tom stared out the window, unable to move anything but his eyes. The family had worked out a code—with a series of blinks, Tom could painstakingly, letter by letter, communicate thoughts to his gathered family. That Thursday night, it was just father and son when the last message was blinked out: “My passing will be soon.”

The message sank in Tommy’s heart like a stone. He wanted to share the suffering of his father who had borne many a burden for him. At a loss for words, Tommy wrapped his arm around his father’s frail shoulders, pressing his bearded cheek to his father’s wrinkled one. Together they stared out the window and cried. Tom had been the pastor of a large and thriving Baptist church in Santa Clarita for most of Tommy’s life, and tonight Tommy was thankful for the memory verses that had filled his

To Live and Die Well

childhood. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want . . .” he recited softly into his father’s ear. He prayed, beseeching God to be with his father as he walked through the valley of the shadow of death.

They were the last moments with his father, and Tommy was grateful, for they were good. Pulling into the driveway of his parents’ house, Tommy took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and opened the door. There, in the living room, was his father: Tom Givens, the eloquent preacher and dynamic pastor, the larger-than-life man under whose shadow Tommy stood through his teen years, and later the friend with whom he debated theology and mission. Facing Tommy in the same wheelchair where he spent most of his days for the past 18 months, his eyes were closed. Everything was the same, and yet his father was gone. His mother looked tired and pale, her eyes red with weeping. Tommy suddenly realized that they were both at a loss for what to do. “At that moment,” says Tommy, “I wished I were Catholic.”

Tommy is young to lose a parent—Tom Sr. was only 64 when he passed away in March 2012. “I had never been that close to death,” admitted Tommy as he told his story in his office on Fuller’s Pasadena campus. Tommy’s age is in his favor; at 39 years old, the assistant professor of New Testament is among Fuller’s youngest faculty members—with an approachability and radical, passionate views that have made him a particularly popular one as well.

The evangelical church reflects the wider society’s












Our Jewish brothers and sisters demonstrate an alternative to merely succumbing to contemporary culture’s attitude toward death. Present in many synagogues are chevra kadisha, or burial societies: a group of men and women from the congregation who ceremonially cleanse and pre-pare the body for burial in the most honoring way possible. Men prepare men, and women prepare women; the body is never placed face down; modesty is always preserved; materials are passed around the body and never over it—at the end of the procedure, the chevra kadisha members pray for forgiveness for any indiscreet word, thought, or gesture they may have committed during their task. If Tommy were part of such a commu-nity, he might have had the comfort of knowing his father was not only in capable and compassionate hands, but in the care of people he knew and loved and lived with. Just as Tommy felt reluctance at releasing his fa-ther’s body to strangers, so Jewish tradition calls for a shomer, a watcher, to be with the body from the moment of death to the moment of burial.

These rituals are as much for the benefit of the ones who are left grieving as for the one who passed on. The tangible, practical support of the com-munity helps relieve the burden of the family in mourning—not only does the chevra kadisha prepare the body for burial, they often make funeral arrangements as well. The family members are left to their one task at hand: grief. The traditional seven-day mourning period, the shiva, offers a time to think of nothing but one’s grief and the beloved person who has died. Such patience with death and mourning, the willingness to sit with it together, is an attitude evangelicals need to somehow regain.

children, and Tommy and his wife, Kim, discussed life, death, and dying with them on the drive to and from their visits in Santa Clarita. “As Christians, we need to learn not to be afraid,” said Tommy. “It doesn’t mean that we are flippant about it, because our lives—our bodies—are good, and death is their undoing, and we should resist that. But we don’t resist it out of fear and cling to our lives, as if death is some unconquered enemy or some place that God does not live.”

Perhaps this is the greatest truth Tommy learned through his father’s journey to death: God lives in our dying, as much as he does in our living. God’s grace covers our fearful deaths and our awkward fumbling with the deaths of our loved ones just as his grace pours over the births of our children that fill us with wonder. God invites us to live with him both in growth and in decay; to learn to live and to die well.

JOY NETANYA THOMPSON [MA ’12], storyteller, is a writer and editor living in Denver, Colorado.

NATE HARRISON, photographer, is a Fuller videographer and still photographer who graduated from USC’s School of Cinematic Arts.

dearth of guiding traditions when faced with death. Even a Baptist pastor’s kid, lifelong Christian, former missionary and seminary professor stood in his parents’ living room where his father had just died—and wondered what to do next. “We were groping for what might help us navigate something very profound,” he recalled, “something that would shape us for the rest of our lives.” Which is why Tommy wished he were Catholic—he would have known to call a priest, who could perform last rites for Tom.

Instead, what Tommy and his family chose to guide them was the Neptune Society, “America’s Most Trusted Cremation Provider,” as pre-arranged by Tom’s wishes. While they waited for the Neptune workers to show up, the Givens family gathered around their patriarch to say goodbye, hugging him one last time, weeping and unsure of how else to absorb the fact that he was really gone. “I’m sort of the go-to figure in my family for offering spiritual guidance,” said Tommy, as he recounted his fumbling for what to do, the spontaneous prayer he offered up.

When the Neptune Society workers arrived, Tommy’s mother and brother went into the other room, unable to bear watching Tom’s body being taken away. Tommy’s sense was, “We should see my father all the way out the door, right?” After receiving cold handshakes and mechanical condolences, Tommy helped the two men transfer his father onto a gurney. Once the Neptune employees were carrying his father out the door, he thought, “Why am I handing over my dad’s body to these people with whom I have no connection?” Yet he knew of no other way; his father was gone, out of his hands, to be replaced a few days later with a sealed box of ashes.

“We are failing to reckon with the profundity of death,” lamented Tommy later. “Knowing how to die well is something a community learns very slowly, and there is an enormous debt to the past.” Tommy found conversations with fellow faculty members helpful—his office neighbor David Augsburger, senior professor of pastoral counseling, reached out to Tommy with conversations and simple one-liners packed with compassionate wisdom. Fuller Professor of Cultural Psychologies Alvin Dueck came alongside Tommy, as well. One evening Tommy shared a beer and a long talk with John Goldingay, Fuller professor of Old Testament, who in his lectures and books is known for offering profound and vulnerable insights about death and suffering, drawn from his life with his late wife, Ann, who suffered with multiple sclerosis.

At home, Tommy was trying to grapple with these topics not with renowned theologians but with his three elementary-school-aged children. When Tom was diagnosed, he asked that his grandchildren be kept from him, to prevent their seeing the gradual deterioration of their grandfather into a “monster,” as he put it. But Tommy refused. “By the time my dad was diagnosed with this disease,” he explained, “I had learned that we live in a culture that is terrified of dying, and I wanted to try and teach my kids not to be afraid.” Grandpa Tom’s deteriorating condition raised questions among the











why time-tested traditions of Rabbinic Judaism, Roman Catholicism, and the Orthodox Church have named the cultural price of burning the dead by banning cremation.

The human body is holy and is to be treated with patience and esteem when dead, allowed to return to the pregnant soil in its time rather than quickly burned to lifeless ash. This gentleness is a way to share in the movement of God that does not abandon embodied people once dead. It is how we participate in the life of God in and among us, a life that does not escape death but passes through it and emerges from it. Slow decomposition is the soil of renewable life, but energy drawn from burning is not renewable. The place of the dead is crucial to the ongoing life of the community of that place. Our beloved places—our mountains, valleys, rivers, towns, people, animals, streets, and buildings—would not have names without the dead. It is difficult to love well a place or its community without them.

I wished I was Catholic on the night my dad died. Then my family and I might have had time-honored practices of a Christian tradition to guide us through parting and grief. Patiently enduring death allows us to draw life from it rather than be poisoned by it. Traditional practices have proven over the generations to draw life from death, to mourn the loss of a life in thankfulness and hope rather than avoiding inevitable pain, to see the dead life’s nourishment of the living, and to grow toward a better death ourselves. These practices involve the care of the dead body, the words that we speak over him or her, the words that we hear spoken, periods of silence, the gathering of the community, the way the body is laid to rest, and other priestly acts by which we relate to the overwhelming power of death. Some of these practices extend months and years after the day we first said goodbye. It takes a long time to digest the death of someone we love, if we are to do so healthily.

Evangelicals like me, especially from certain

“emergent” quarters, may imagine that we can cherry-pick from the vast Christian tradition whatever death practices appeal to us. But only a naïve approach to tradition imagines that certain strands can be pulled, intact, from a larger communal fabric—disembodied from the incarnate contexts in which they mediate the life of a community and its members. We cannot appropriate death practices willy-nilly or piecemeal without betraying them or being betrayed. There is something very intricate happening in the way we face and come to terms with death, and healthy death traditions have been formed in and by this intricacy.

Nevertheless, reaching out for help from the traditional desert we modern evangelicals have made for ourselves is the right gesture, I think. We cannot continue to encounter death with the violent and gnostic denial that has come to be commonplace among us. We must develop practices that face death in the body in all of its implications for our life together, so that our eyes might be opened to what we are rushing past in our denial of death, to see how our denial of death entails a denial of life. To do this we can and must learn from other traditions, both Christian and non-Christian. But our learning will have to involve embodied sharing with people formed by those traditions, anticipating a healing that is as slow and complex as was the process whereby those healthful death practices were formed. It will also have to anticipate failure, incompetent in death as we have become, and we will have to face our failures by confessing our sins and repenting rather than pretending we know what we’re doing.

I hope my own family’s impoverished approach to my dad’s death encourages work toward better practices, more truthful speaking, and deeper thinking for our Christian community. And I hope that learning to face death in and around us with concrete practices of inherited wisdom will help us be a community that makes peace in a violent world by being patient with the dying and then living in faithful remembrance of the dead.

So much of the way we live is revealed in the way we die. We are dying our whole life long, yet most of us are part of a culture living in terrified denial of death. As death gripped my dad’s body more and more tightly through amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), we treated death as if it were an unexpected and remediable interruption to our lives. As part of a wider culture of denial, we were tempted by exotic cures while a health “industry” and other enterprises commodified his deterioration and decomposition for a profit. His named body was translated into a dollar amount. What seemed impossible for us to face was the death of my father, Tom Givens.

The way my family handled my dad’s body after his death, at his request, was the culmination of this squirming cultural denial in which we had all been living. Cremation fits certain cultural sensibilities of “efficiency” and “cleanliness” that reflect a learned horror, not only at our bodies’ slow decomposition in the earth after death, but also their vulnerability, dependence on others, and slow deterioration in life. The thought of being slowly digested by countless living organisms gives especially urbanites the willies—despite the fact that life depends on this process, that life is this process. Thus, we could not live asking how my dad might die well of ALS. We lived instead seeking to avoid, sanitize, and minimize his death. This made it unnecessarily hard for him—and us—to meet his dying with patience and intimacy. That denial was evident in a reluctance to weep together and to welcome children gently into the pain of Dad’s paralysis and decay. In the midst of our culture’s denial of death, we treated his dying body with the same impatience as we treated his body once dead.

Most of us are apparently willing to see death only as it is obscured and romanticized—that unfortunate, perhaps avoidable thing that happens at the end of life, or the sacrifice of heroes. This keeps us from learning to see the manifold death in us and around us, including the unnecessary and merciless death that occurs because of

us. In a word, this keeps us blind. Systemic violence is a function of this blindness, this cultural denial of death. We hide death as much as possible while killing countless people near and far. Forlorn nursing homes and drone warfare are manifestations of the same cultural myopia. We cannot see, much less take responsibility for, the way our economic structures and habits deal out destruction both under our noses and oceans away. The result is that we cannot see how good living depends on good dying. And we cannot see anything wrong with burning a loved one’s body into the oblivion of ashes away from our sight, rather than lowering him or her into the earth before us for a slow return to the soil of which s/he was made.

I am not able to trace out here the connections I’m suggesting between our cultural denial of death and systemic violence. Nor am I concerned simply with the practice of cremation. In these brief reflections I am considering my father’s death, particularly the cremation of his body that I neglected to prevent, as characteristic of a cultural denial of death that we, especially those of us who are Christian, should resist.

There is tremendous concern in the Bible for the care and place of the dead. Think of Sarah’s tomb, which Abraham purchased from the Hittites for his family burial ground. Think of the bones of Joseph, carried from Egypt to the land of promise. Think of the dead body of Jesus, the body of promise itself, shown faithful care by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus and then by Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome. The care shown these bodies once dead bespeaks not only their importance while alive but the future of the community that would grow from them. It is not a question of whether God is capable of resurrecting bodies burned to ash—I’m sure God is—but of the treatment of dead bodies that is a faithful witness to the life that has been lived, including the hope of future life, thus nourishing the life of the community that continues in the wake of the dead. Perhaps this is

My Father’s BodyBy Tommy Givens, Assistant Professor of New Testament Studies

+ See a video interview on this subject with Dr. Givens online.

W hen Eric and Sue Takamoto show visitors around their seaside home of Ishinomaki, they call

attention to the water-level lines. “See up there?” They point to a spot high on the side of

an apartment complex or a shop where faded markings are evidence of how far the floodwaters rose. Sometimes it’s one floor up, or two. Sometimes more.

Ishinomaki, a sleepy fishing town on the northeast coast of Japan’s Honshu Island, was one of the areas hardest hit by the devastating 2011 tsunami. It’s impossible to imagine today, even with the evidence of the water lines: Black walls of water swallowed up homes, businesses, loved ones. A few years later, rebuilding is in full force; cranes and construction equipment dot the landscape. Most of the devastation has been cleared away. But not all.

When Eric or Sue introduce Ishinomaki residents who survived the catastrophe, the stories flow.

When the water surged into the bank building, its 13 occupants scrambled to the roof. Surely they would be safe there. But the water rose past the first floor, then the second, then onto the roof. The only place left to go was up a ladder on the roof’s protruding doorway. Yet even that was not high enough. All but one of the 13 were washed away.

Hiro,+ whose wife was a bank employee and one of those who perished, located the roof ladder and kept it. Decorated with flowers, it served as the centerpiece of a memorial service in her honor. “That ladder,” says Hiro, “was the last thing she touched.”

Eric [MDiv ’99] and Sue [PhD ’03], who met as students at Fuller, moved to Japan with the mission agency Asian Access in 2001, and over the next decade did church planting work in various cities as their family grew to include children Owen, Annie, Olivia, and Ian. When the March 2011 tsunamis occurred, they were with other aid workers at a conference, well south of the tidal waves’ destruction. Providentially, many of them had participated in disaster response training just days before.

“We knew the timing of our training was more than coincidence,” says Eric. “A few of us quickly answered the

Every Survivor Has a Story


When Sue met Yui at a community event, the young mother was vacant-eyed as she tried to manage her three young children. “She told me she couldn’t find a job anywhere,” says Sue, “and it put the fire under my feet” to pursue an idea that had been percolating—ever since Sue was struck by the beauty of the broken pieces of pottery they found while helping clean a field. She wanted to start a business employing women to craft jewelry from those pottery shards, and now, perhaps she had her first employee. “I had no idea if it could work,” admits Sue, who had neither business experience nor a particular interest in jewelry—“but it was worth trying. Women like Yui were desperate not just for work, but also for hope. This way, we could hope together.”

Now, two years later, the Nozomi Project—nozomi, in Japanese, means “hope”—is bringing sustainable income, dignity, and community to the 16 women who work there. As the broken pottery is being transformed, so are the women—emotionally and spiritually. Sue shares biblical truths with them, leading some of them to commit their lives to Jesus. And as they work together, the women share their stories with a level of honesty and vulnerability they wouldn’t risk anywhere else. “It seems to feel safe,” says Sue, “to be busy working, looking down, and opening up.”

The tea shop where Noriko+ and her husband Masaru+ worked was on high enough ground that, when they heard the waves were coming, they knew they would be safe. But Masaru desperately wanted to retrieve some belongings from their nearby home below. He’d be quick, he told Noriko.

But not quick enough. From her vantage point on top of the hill, Noriko could see their home in the valley below. She watched the water press in with such force it dislodged the house from its foundation. And she saw her husband, trapped on the roof of the house, floating away. They waved at each other, knowing that this was the end, until he vanished from sight.

Masaru held on until the house began to submerge, then jumped onto a nearby boat. When that began to submerge too, he lunged onto another boat—and clung with every bit of strength he could muster.

Having seen her husband carried away by the rushing water, Noriko was convinced he was dead. When his bedraggled figure appeared before her the next day, she didn’t allow herself to believe it. “You’re a ghost!” she cried. But Masaru was very much alive. A survivor.

“If you’re a survivor,” says Eric, “you have a story.” For both Eric and Sue, walking alongside those survivors in their stories and their healing is a long-term, multidimensional process.

Sue has helped many of them establish rituals, a

concept she researched in her PhD studies with leadership professor Bobby Clinton at Fuller. “I discovered the importance of creating rituals not just to celebrate the good,” she says, “but also to help grieve the losses and mark the passages of life.” And a course on death with pastoral counseling professor David Augsburger helped her learn to listen well. “I am listening to stories all the time,” she says. “It may be my most important role here.”

It’s been nearly four years now since Japan’s tsunami. For the rest of the world, it seems like the distant past, but for the residents of Ishinomaki, the tragedy is still very real. Today, when Eric or Sue show visitors around town, it feels as if the tsunami happened yesterday. Their five-year-old son, Ian, comes running with a few pottery shards he’s just found in the fields. Stories, too, continue to emerge from under the uncleared debris. Stories that need to be told. Stories that linger, and need to be told again.

Eric and Sue keep listening.

BECKY STILL, storyteller,is Senior Editorial Manager at Fuller, writing and editing primarily marketing and web content.

TJ LEE, photographer, is Managing Editor of FULLER magazine and website. He is also a photographer and creative media consultant.

+ The names of tsunami victims have been changed, but the stories (in blue) are true. The photos (note Eric on page 29 and Sue, top right on facing page) were taken by TJ Lee who visited them in Japan while on vacation. Below, Ian Takamoto shows pottery shards he found while exploring a local field.

call to go north.” Since then Eric, and often Sue, made many trips to the ravaged town of Ishinomaki, partnering with a house church network called Be One. With each trip, says Eric, “our hearts broke for the victims.”

Soon the Takamotos sensed God’s call to move their family to Ishinomaki. “Our vision was not just to help with the physical needs there,” they say, “but also to see people and communities transformed through the power of the gospel lived out in an incarnational witness.”

A ministry of presence. Of entering into each individual’s story.

The waters had barely receded when Tomo,+ who lived in a low-income housing complex, leapt into action, wanting to do his part. He knew rescue vehicles would soon be coming, yet rubble left in the wake of the punishing waves was everywhere. Grabbing a magnetized rod, he went to work picking up nails and other sharp objects so tires wouldn’t be punctured when vehicles came through.

As mud-caked bodies were pulled from the rubble and lined up, Tomo thought about the family members who would come to claim them—and saw another need. Gently, respectfully, he washed the faces of the victims so they could be identified. Weeks later, he would meet a woman whose niece was among those victims. Her gratitude for Tomo’s simple but thoughtful gesture would overwhelm her.

As the Takamotos settled in Ishinomaki, “we heard so many stories of tragedy and heartbreak,” says Eric. So many members of the community felt isolated in their wrenching pain. In the midst of the effort to rebuild

external structures and systems, the process of internal healing got pushed aside.

In the early months after the tsunami, the government offered to tear down damaged homes and businesses at no cost to those who requested help. But the time frame was short, explains Eric, so many people jumped at the opportunity while they could—often before they’d had a chance to go through their belongings and grieve their losses. Suddenly, all vestiges of their former life were gone.

“People internalized the trauma and carried it with them,” says Eric. “On the outside it looks like everything is getting cleaned up and rebuilt, but that’s not a reflection of what’s going on inside for people.” That’s why they need to tell their stories now, he believes: to help them process that deep-seated trauma, that unresolved grief—and open themselves up to the healing touch of Christ.

After the disaster struck, Yui,+ who lived inland, became frantic. With power out and cell phones unusable, she couldn’t get in touch with her family members in Ishinomaki. Her husband did not want her to use what little gas they had to drive there. Days later, she got news that seared her to the core: both her mother and her sister, who was seven months pregnant, did not survive.

Yui was distraught. In her work at her husband’s hair salon, she was chided for not putting on a happy face for the customers. When her husband said he’d had enough and demanded a divorce, Yui—with two small children and a third on the way—went to Ishinomaki to live with her father, who was still miserably lost in his own grief. She looked for work to support her family but, with so many businesses washed away, there was none to be found.











works in the Office of Finance and Accounting for Fuller, located on the Pasadena campus. He is an accounts payable assistant, processing—among other things—employee expense reports. Among the manila file folders he has at his desk is one that holds papers of a very different kind: original art that is an expression of Gilberto’s personal journey and time at Fuller. Though most employees come and go from Gilberto’s office having no idea of his remarkable talent, his supervisor, Emmanuel Natogma, is Gilberto’s biggest fan. “Thank you for shining a light on an accounts payable assistant who tries to hide in the green grass,” he says. “Gilberto is an amazing guy.”

Gilberto’s medium is plain copier paper and Bic pen ink. He employs a unique micro-hatching approach that gives his drawings their multilayered depth. The subjects of his drawings are richly metaphorical and deeply personal, drawn from symbols that are meaningful to him. He works at his desk during breaks and at lunchtime.

+ These photographs were taken by Nate Harrison, who was so inspired that he also made a short video of Gilberto’s process that you can view online.

Gilberto Lugo



Introduction and a British Perspective

Oliver D. Crisp, Guest Theology Editor p. 36

How Evangelicals and Fuller Are Shaped by Their Traditions

George M. Marsdenp. 40

What Does Fuller Mean by “Evangelical”?

Charles J. Scalise p. 44

Confessions of a Reluctant Evangelical Erin Dufault-Hunter

p. 48

African Americans and Evangelicalism

James Earl Masseyp. 52

Evangelicals, Pentecostals, and Charismatics:

A Difficult Relationship or Promising Convergence?

Amos Yongp. 56

Ways Forward for Western Evangelicals

Ryan Bolgerp. 60

+ Translation (2010, using books and fencing) Olga Lah [MA ’06],was part of an exhibit at Fuller Pasadena’s David Allan Hubbard Library.

흥미진진한 시대에 살라”는 속담은 양날의 검과

같습니다. “흥미진진한” 시대란 축복과 함께

저주도 가져오기 마련입니다. 이 시대는 삶의

다양한 측면에서 실로 흥미진진한 시대이며 신학도 예외는

아닙니다. 풀러 신학대학원 공동체는 몇몇 흥미로운 도전들

에 직면해 있습니다. 교회의 형태와 참여에 대한 우리의 사고

방식이 변하고, 서구 교회와 교단들의 영향력은 사그라지는

반면 남반구의 교회들은 성장하고 있으며, 지구 곳곳에서 크리

스천들이 박해받는 상황 가운데, 커리큘럼을 바꾸고 있는 이

시점에, 우리는 무엇을 지향하고 있습니까? 무엇이 풀러를

풀러답게 만드는 것입니까?

이 질문의 한 측면은 복음주의 학교로서의 우리의 정체성

과 관련이 있습니다. 과연 복음주의라는 것이 풀러 DNA

일부입니까? 우리의 역사를 살펴보면 이는 자명해 보입니다.

조지 마스든의 저서로 잘 알려진 근본주의 개혁: 풀러 신학

대학원과 신복음주의에서 이미 1995년에 표명했듯이 풀러

는 전후 시대에 그 당시 복음주의를 형성했던 단체 중 하나

였습니다. 그렇다면 미래는 어떻습니까? 기독교 문화의 많은

다른 부분들과 마찬가지로 “복음주의”라는 용어가 의미하는

바도 변화하고 있습니다. 이 운동이 어디로 향할 것이며, 우리의

역사와 더 넓게는 복음주의의 역사상 이처럼 중차대한 시점에

복음주의를 형성하는 데 있어서 풀러의 역할은 무엇입니까?

오늘날 복음주의가 의미하는 바는 무엇이며, 풀러가 복음주

의라는 것은 또한 무엇을 뜻하는 것입니까?

우리는 다양한 학문과 교단적 배경을 가진 다수의 풀러

교수진을 소집해서 풀러 메거진의 다음 부문에서 이러한

질문들을 다루었습니다. 풀러의 가장 중요한 점 중 하나는

풀러가 교단적, 문화적, 상황적, 그리고 신학적 경계선들을

넘어서 진지한 신학적 토론들을 위한 모임의 장이 되어 준다는

점입니다. 진리를 추구하고 크리스천 공동체와 소명을 형성하

는 여정에서, 풀러는 우리가 함께 생각하고 말하고 동의하고

반대할 수 있는 공간을 제공합니다. 이러한 이유로 미국

복음주의 역사상 유례없이 풀러는 “복음주의”라는 용어

의 본질에 대해 그리고 그것이 신앙 공동체인 우리와 갖는

연관성에 대해 이러한 토론을 가능케 하는 중심적인 위치에

있습니다. 기고자들 모두는 풀러가 갖는 이러한 측면을 가치

있게 여기고 있으며, 그들의 글들은 그들이 차지하고 있는 서로

다른 위치와 입장들을 반영합니다. 이것은 하나의 목소리만이

존재하는 사안이 아니며, 우리가 의뢰했던 글들도 한목소리

를 내고 있지 않습니다. 이는 매우 환영할 일입니다. 하나의

학교로서 그리고 오늘날 미국의 신학 고등 교육을 위한 가장

의미 있는 장소 중 하나로서 이 사안에 대한 활발한 토론에

참여하는 것은 중요한 일입니다.

E l proverbio “que puedas vivir en tiempos interesantes” es una espada de dos filos. Muchas veces

los tiempos “interesantes” traen mal-dición y bendición. Estos son tiempos interesantes en diferentes ámbitos de la vida incluyendo la teología. La comunidad del Seminario Fuller se enfrenta ante algunos retos intere-santes: es un momento de cambio de currículo. Al mismo tiempo que cam-biamos la manera de pensar sobre la forma de la iglesia y nuestro compro-miso con ella, así como el poder y la influencia de la iglesia occidental. Sus denominaciones fluyen produciendo un crecimiento global del Sur. Los cristianos son perseguidos en todo el mundo. ¿Qué significa esto para no-sotros? ¿Qué hace a Fuller ser Fuller? Un aspecto de esta interrogante tiene

que ver con nuestra identidad como institución evangélica. ¿Ser evan-gélicos es parte del ADN de Fuller? Si miramos hacia atrás en nuestra historia, ciertamente parece de esa manera. Fuller fue una de las orga-nizaciones que formaron el evan-gelicalismo contemporáneo en el período posterior a la guerra, como el reconocido trabajo de Reformando el Fundamentalismo “Reforming Fun-damentalism” de George Marsden: El Seminario Fuller y el Nuevo Evangelicalismo lo demostraron en 1995. Pero, ¿y el futuro? Lo que significa el término “evangélico” parece estar cambiando al igual que muchas cosas en la cultura Cristiana. ¿Dónde nos lleva este movimiento y qué papel juega Fuller en la for-mación de esta importante coyun-tura en nuestra historia y en la vida

del evangelismo en general? ¿Qué significa ser evangélico hoy y qué significa para Fuller ser evangélico? Basados en una serie de becas y afil-iaciones denominacionales, hemos convocado a varios miembros de la fac-ultad de Fuller para trabajar con estas preguntas en la siguiente sección de la revista FULLER. Una de las cosas más importantes de Fuller es su función como un lugar de convocatoria para las discusiones teológicas serias a través de diferentes fronteras denominacionales, culturales, contextuales y teológicas. Fuller proporciona un espacio en el que podemos pensar, hablar, estar de acuerdo y en desacuerdo juntos en la búsqueda de la verdad, en la formación de la vocación y la comunidad Cristiana. Por esta razón, Fuller tiene una posición única en la vida evangélica de América,

T he proverb “may you live in interesting times” is a two-edged sword. “Interesting”

times often bring curse as well as blessing. These are interesting times in many different spheres of life, theology included. The Fuller Seminary community is faced with some interesting challenges: at a time of curriculum change, of change to the way in which we think about the shape of the church and our engagement with it, as the power and influence of the Western church and her denominations ebb and the Global South grows, and as Christians are persecuted across the globe, what do we stand for? What makes Fuller, Fuller? One aspect of this query has to do

with our identity as an evangelical institution. Is being evangelical part of Fuller’s DNA? If we look back at our history, it certainly seems that way. Fuller was one of the organi-zations that shaped contemporary evangelicalism in the post-War period, as George Marsden’s well-known work Reforming Fundamen-talism: Fuller Seminary and the New Evangelicalism demonstrated back in 1995. But what of the future? What is meant by the term evan-gelical appears to be shifting as are many other things in the Christian culture. Where will this movement lead, and what role does Fuller have in the shaping of it at this important juncture in our history and in the life of evangelicalism more broadly? What does it mean to be evangelical

today, and what does it mean for Fuller to be evangelical?

Drawing on a range of scholarship and denominational affiliation, we have convened a number of Full-er faculty to take up these questions in the following section of FULLER magazine. One of the most import-ant things about Fuller is the way in which it functions as a convening place for serious theological discus-sion across different denomination-al, cultural, contextual, and theologi-cal boundaries. It provides a space in which we can think, talk, agree, and disagree together—in the pursuit of the truth, and in the formation of Christian community and vocation. For this reason, Fuller is unique-ly placed in American evangelical

WHY EVANGELICAL?Oliver D. Crisp, Guest Theology Editor


Perspective is an important factor in the discussion of what it means for a disparate, eclectic commu-nity of believers such as those gathered at Fuller Theological Seminary to self-identify as “evangel-ical.” As a British citizen living and teaching in the United States, my own experience of evangelical-ism in two cultures separated by a common lan-guage makes this point. In the UK, evangelicalism looks and feels rather different from its American counterpart. There are similar central concerns, of course, as expressed in British historian David Bebbington’s well-known “four distinctive features of evangelicalism”: an emphasis on the Bible (bib-licism); on the centrality of the work of Christ on the cross (crucicentrism); on the need for the con-version of the unregenerate (conversionism); and on evangelization and the carrying out of Christ’s Great Commission (activism). But important as-pects of American evangelical culture are not present in the same way in Great Britain. For in-stance, the fixation for some with the doctrine of the inerrancy of Scripture (which fueled Fuller’s “Battle for the Bible” earlier in the twentieth cen-tury) was never really an issue for British evangel-icalism. There are British evangelicals who would defend inerrancy, but also many who adopt other models for Scripture. Another example: eschatol-ogy. In the United States, early twentieth-century fundamentalism was partly marked by adherence to a particular view of the “end times”—still a live issue in American fundamentalism. There is not the same need to place oneself relative to particular views about how the world ends in British evangel-icalism, in large measure because fundamentalism was not part of the cultural heritage of evangelical Christians there. Eschatological scenarios such as those that have generated that most-American phenomena, the Left Behind books and movie fran-chise, just don’t function as a shibboleth in British evangelicalism.

These days, particular views of inerrancy or escha-tology are old hat in progressive American evan-gelicalism. A more pressing concern is that evan-gelicalism is being balkanized so that one must

life to be a center in which to have such discussion about the nature of the term evangelical and its relation to us as a believing commu-nity. Our contributors all value this aspect of Fuller’s life, and their essays reflect the different places and positions that they occupy. This is not a single-voice is-sue, and the pieces we have commissioned are not of one voice either. That is all to the good. It is important to have a robust discussion of this matter as an institu-tion, and as one of the most significant places for theo-logical higher education in America today.

por ser un centro en el que se puede tener tal discusión sobre la naturaleza del término “evangélico” y su relación con nosotros como una comunidad de creyentes. Todos nuestros colaboradores valoran este aspecto de la vida de Fuller y sus ensayos reflejan los difer-entes lugares y posiciones que ocupan. Este no es un asunto de una sola voz y las piezas que hemos comisionado tampoco son de una sola voz. Todo esto es bueno y beneficioso. Es muy importante, que como insti-tución se participe en fuertes debates sobre este asunto ya que actualmente, Fuller es uno de los lugares más importantes para la educación superior teológica en América.

Oliver Crisp is profes-sor of systematic the-ology in the School of Theology at Fuller Theological Seminary. O r ig ina l l y f r om England, he has taught in the UK and Canada and has held postdoctoral fellow-ships at Notre Dame and Princeton. He is the author and editor of a number of books, including most recent-ly Deviant Calvinism: Broadening Reformed Theology (Fortress, 2014).


qualify what is meant by the term. One is a conservative evangelical, another a liberal or Catholic evangelical, yet another a post-modern evangelical, and so on. The worry is that the word evangelical no longer clearly distinguishes a particular theological posi-tion. In the mid-twentieth century, evangel-icals were an identifiable group within the Christian tradition. That is threatened if the movement is so broad and diffuse that its adherents can be placed along a spec-trum of different sorts of evangelicalism, with different theological, liturgical, and practical nuances or emphases.

On the other hand, this may be an intellec-tual coming-of-age as we are moving away from grand narratives and monolithic tra-ditions to more local, variegated approaches to modern life. Whereas in a previous gen-eration a person might have self-identified as, say, Republican, in the knowledge that this represented a particular political ideol-ogy, the situation is now more complicated, with progressives and Tea Party activists (amongst others) fighting for the soul of that political ideology. Similar issues plague UK and European political life as well, where there is a fight between right and left to oc-cupy the political middle.

There are other important factors in the mix. Three are particularly relevant to Fuller’s constituency going forward: first, the pragmatism of American evangelical-ism, expressed in its entrepreneurial spirit; second, the relationship between evangel-icalism and tradition; third, the changing landscape of evangelicalism as the tide goes out on the so-called Western churches.

As to the first, whether evangelicalism re-tains a distinctive theological culture going forward depends in part upon its investment in the ecclesiastical and missional pragma-tism that has characterized much of its life in the last half century. Evangelicalism is by definition cross-denominational. From its inception evangelicals sought to circumvent ecclesiastical structures with parachurch organizations that provided an easier, more effective means of passing on theological notions not shared by the larger denomi-nations from which they hailed. Engage-ment with other like-minded Christians in

different denominations is a good thing, of course, but not at the expense of doctrine of the church. Evangelical theologians wring their hands when asked what evangeli-cals believe about sacraments, liturgy, and church polity, and with good reason: there can be no evangelical doctrine of the church because (to repeat) evangelicalism is trans-denominational. Yet evangelicals should reflect on practices vital to the sustenance of Christian faith, and more work should certainly be done towards evangelical doc-trines that engage with particular denom-inational practices, liturgies, and polities. An evangelical-Episcopal doctrine of the church, or an evangelical-Presbyterian un-derstanding of sacraments should provide a means by which evangelicals can reengage with their own denominations, making a different sort of contribution—one that pro-vides an evangelical perspective that is tra-dition-specific.

This raises the second issue, which is a wid-er concern going forward. American evan-gelicalism (unlike its British counterpart) has a complicated relationship with church tradition. We are interested in hearing what the Spirit is saying to the churches today, not what was done by those long dead in places with which we have no personal con-nection. In the last 20 years there have been great strides in constructive dialogue with those of nonevangelical Christian faith, and Fuller boasts several faculty with signifi-cant involvement in such ecumenical ini-tiatives. Still, how evangelicals (how Fuller evangelicals) place themselves with respect to the larger church and her history is in-creasingly important. Once again, here is a tension between our evangelical identity, which pulls away from denominational ties to parachurch and cross-denominational involvement, and our church affiliation and involvement, whatever our particular tradi-tion may be. What is it to be, say, a Pente-costal-evangelical Christian relative to the wider church and its traditions? What does it mean to be alive to today’s church whilst drawing on the rich heritage of the church catholic in order to provide resources for, say, contemporary Methodism? There may not be easy answers to these questions, but they are matters that cannot be avoided. The recent rise in retrieval theology, which

attempts to resource contemporary theolog-ical reflection by appeal to the doctrines and arguments of historic Christian thinkers is, I suggest, one way in which evangelical theologians can help in this regard.

Thirdly, and briefly, as the geopolitics of church life shift decisively away from the Western churches in Europe and North America to the Global South, and as West-ern societies grow more secular, there are important challenges facing globally-mind-ed evangelicals. Pressing among them is the reorientation required of Western Chris-tians used to holding the reigns of ecclesias-tical power. Another side to this concern is how Western Christians, and evangelicals in particular, should relate to local contexts and a cultural Christianity where fewer are practicing the faith—let alone being evan-gelical. This appears to be less of a problem in the United States than in Europe, but it may also be that America’s entrepreneur-ial approach to religious practice—and the success of evangelical megachurches and postmodern models for church—are mere-ly slowing down the pace of change in the United States. This is a matter that many Christian intellectuals have focused on re-cently, Fuller faculty among them.

Fuller is a “big tent” in which many differ-ent sorts of people from many denomina-tional, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds can discuss and engage one another in a safe theological space. It is a place in which there is real dialogue and disagreement, where faculty can take positions that differ from other colleagues on matters of importance. Perhaps the most celebrated example of this in recent years is the emphasis from some Fuller faculty on the claim that human be-ings do not have souls as distinct substances separate from their bodies. There is lively debate concerning the merits of this view within and without Fuller, and the fact that such collegial disagreement and dialogue is possible is a sign of vigorous intellectual health. Similarly, the fact that Fuller wel-comes various sorts of evangelicalism, as well as various denominational affiliations, is a strength and not a weakness. It is the fate of an institution as large, influential, and diverse as Fuller that it is understood differently depending on the constituency

doing the explaining. Some claim that Full-er is sliding towards theological liberalism, while others argue that it is a bastion of con-servatism unwilling to make changes ne-cessitated by twenty-first-century life. Full-er’s identity as an evangelical institution is a vital consideration in these debates and the perceptions of Fuller’s theological pedigree.

Critics can forget that Fuller is a seminary that has a clear statement of faith that is cre-dally orthodox and represents the central beliefs of Christians down through the ages (i.e., reflects the catholic faith of the church). It has community standards that mark it out in a world of higher education that is in-creasingly morally pragmatic. And it has a proud intellectual tradition that spans three different schools, drawing students from ev-ery continent, and serving a global mission. These are not matters that are peripheral or incidental to Fuller’s identity; they are, in many respects, indicative of the kind of faith that makes Fuller the standard bearer of a particular vision of evangelicalism in contemporary America that we might call “open evangelicalism.” In many ways this represents the best of evangelical heritage: holding fast to historic orthodox Christian commitments whilst negotiating the vicis-situdes and challenges of contemporary cultural mores—all the while remaining committed to passing on the gospel once committed to the saints in a spirit of engage-ment and dialogue. That will look different in each succeeding generation, not because successors to stalwarts of the past have caved to the moral and theological laxity of a wider culture, but because each genera-tion faces challenges that must be met with theology that is culturally engaged. If that is what it means to be an “open evangelical” in the twenty-first century, then Fuller can claim a unique and important role in theo-logical education—as an institution com-mitted to upholding the values and tradition of evangelical Christianity as it has been expressed on this continent in the past two centuries. What is more, if open evangeli-calism does characterize Fuller today, then it is well positioned to address the challeng-es facing evangelicalism in the first decades of the twenty-first century in a constructive and creative manner.

“The union between Christ and believ-ers is very often represented to a mar-riage. This similitude is much insisted on in Scripture—how sweetly is it set forth in the Song of Songs! Now it is by faith that the soul is united unto Christ; faith is this bride’s reception of Christ as a bridegroom. . . . Thus also, when the believer receives Christ by faith, he receives him as a safe-guard and shelter from the wrath of God and eternal torments, and defense from all the harms and dangers which he fears. Isaiah

32:2, ‘And a man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shad-ow of a great rock in a weary land.’ Wherefore, the dispositions of soul which Christ looks at in his spouse are a sweet reliance and con-fidence in him, a humble trust in him as her only rock of defence, whither she may flee. And Christ will not receive those as the ob-jects of his salvation who trust to themselves, their own strength or worthiness, but those alone who entirely rely on him.”

+ from Jonathan Edwards [1703–1758], in The Works of Jonathan Edwards, volume 13. A preacher, philosopher, and theologian, Edwards was known as a great American intellectual, associated with the First Great Awakening and rooted in Reformed theology. On long horse-back rides, he wrote ideas on scraps of paper kept in his pockets and pinned them to his coat so they would not be lost.


for ecclesiastical anarchy and countless heresies. There is a plausible case for such accusations, and it is sometimes dishearten-ing to contemplate the popularity of various heretical teachings among those who might identify as evangelical. A more remarkable historical phenomenon is that the movement is as coherent as it is. The centrifugal forces that seem to be inevitable consequences of decentralization, competitive free enterprise, populist demagoguery, and encouragement of personal readings of Scripture seem to be countered by centripetal forces that allow the core gospel message to survive. Today, all over the world, one can hear a bibli-cist and conversionist message centered on the atoning work of Christ for sinners and urging a life of discipline, service, and witness as a response. This core message is, remarkably, one that George Whitefield would recognize. It may be packaged with other extra-Christian, sub-Christian, and/or heretical messages (such as the prosperity gospel), but in the long run the core seems to survive better than the eccentricities. One may attribute that to the work of the Holy Spirit. Additionally it can be seen as related to the transcultural luminosity and appeal of the basic gospel message. Practically speak-ing, the free spiritual market provides one of the centripetal forces. What works in one place is borrowed and used everywhere, as seen in styles of music or prayer. Among the things that work is the core gospel message. Furthermore, despite evident dangers of private interpretations of Scripture, the Bible and what it actually says can act as a con-straint giving the core evangelical message an advantage over many eccentricities.

Another component in fostering this degree of coherence is tradition, something evan-gelicals do not often talk much about. The modern biblicist outlook is often avowedly ahistorical and primitivist. People are often taught as though they can skip over the many centuries of church history and tradition and get back simply to the practices of the New Testament church. Yet all such movements themselves depend upon traditions of in-terpretation, even if sometimes traditions of recent origin. And evangelicalism more broadly, the movement descended from George Whitefield and the like, also depends on traditions of interpretation that help pre-serve the core gospel message. Not only is the larger movement based on “the Bible alone,” it is also based on a functioning canon of the Bible and its interpretation. The best example of this dependence on tradition is that the vast majority of evangelicals are Trinitarians and teach in conformity with the doctrines of the Incarnation formulated by the early church councils. These are doctrines that one would not expect to be so dominant if evangelicals depended simply on countless private inter-pretations of Scripture.

So tradition or history is essential to under-standing evangelicalism, which means that if we are going to understand Fuller Seminary’s relationship to the movement as a whole, it is important to understand its history or the particular subtraditions to which it has been related. Initially these subtraditions that have helped define Fuller were predominantly American, and several of these are especially important for appreciating Fuller’s location within the movement.

First, Fuller at its founding in 1947 was sub-stantially shaped by the historical memory that until the late nineteenth century, a time many could still recall, evangelicalism had been the most influential religious force in the culture. Beginning with the Great Awakening of the mid-1700s, revivalism had become the most characteristic driving force in American religious life. After the formation of the new re-public, evangelical denominations grew faster than any others, and almost all of the existing denominations came to be identified as evan-gelical. These mainline denominations were part of the Evangelical Alliance, established in 1846 as a loose British and American coalition of churches active in promoting evangelism, missions, and social or moral reforms—such as anti-slavery or the temperance movement. These denominations provided most of the nation’s educational leadership. For instance, in 1847 (just one century prior to the founding of Fuller) the majority of college presidents were evangelical Protestants and the nation’s leading seminaries were evangelical.

Fuller’s founding president Harold J. Ockenga was deeply shaped by a desire to rebuild that evangelical influence. As he and the other founders saw it, evangelical tradi-tion had been ruined by the rise of modernist or liberal theologies that took over America’s mainline churches and seminaries. Ockenga had been reared a Methodist, had attended Princeton Theological Seminary, and left with J. Gresham Machen to graduate from Westminster Theological Seminary. Ockenga became a mainline Presbyterian who was acutely sensitive to the need to combat mod-ernism. Yet he resisted the separatism of


S ome decades ago, when evangelicals were much in the news, a friend re-marked that he wished to resign his

evangelical membership but he did not know where to send the letter. The comment points to one of the movement’s major characteris-tics. There is no headquarters or single stan-dard-bearing agency to which to refer to see if one is being truly evangelical. In the case of Fuller, there is no single larger evangelical submovement or denomination of which it is a part that would provide a normative reference point as to whether it is retaining its proper identity. In fact, world evangelicalism is made up of countless subgroups. Fuller interacts in various ways with a wonderful variety of these. Yet it seems a mystery as to what in this dynamic and ever-changing environment provides the basis for defining and maintain-ing any particular evangelical identity.

What we call evangelicalism emerged in Western Europe and Great Britain in the 1700s as a number of renewal movements within Protestantism. From the beginning, the movement was decentralized and diverse but also interrelated. Common evangelistic and mission concerns led groups to borrow from each other revival techniques and ways of cultivating vital piety. These renewal movements were fashioned by innovative leaders such as Count Zinzendorf, John Wesley, or George Whitefield, and a host of imitators or followers. Many of them de-veloped new agencies that went beyond the bounds of the older denominations.

One way to understand this movement is that it was an expression of modern spiritu-

al free enterprise. Arising around the same time as the new market economy, it encour-aged innovators to adopt new techniques for promoting the gospel. Such traits continue to be leading characteristics of the movement. Enterprising leaders, when they perceive a need or an opportunity, found new institu-tions with no need to consult ecclesiastical bureaucracies. These institutions and their leaders thrive on competition with each other, sometimes in friendly competition among allies, other times in sharp rivalries that accentuate differences. Such institutions are to some degree dependent on the con-stituencies whom they cultivate. The insti-tutions provide leadership and guidance for such communities, but community opinion can also act as a constraint on what is to be taught and tolerated. As Mark Noll points out in The New Shape of World Christianity, since these traits of evangelicalism first developed when modern economies were emerging in the Western world, they have proved effective more recently in the Global South where there is similar social mobility and breakdown of traditional cultures.

What gives this bewilderingly complex movement any coherence whatsoever? What keeps it from blowing apart into thousands of fragments moving further from each other as each develops peculiar teachings and practices? I have Roman Catholic colleagues from Notre Dame who are fond of arguing that such is the inevitable fate of Protes-tantism. By claiming to rely on “the Bible alone,” Protestantism opens the door for an impossible number of competing interpre-tations of what the Bible teaches and hence

George M. Marsden has taught history at Calvin College, Duke Uni-versity Divinity School, and the University of Notre Dame, where he is now professor emeritus. He is the author of Reforming Fundamental-ism: Fuller Theological Seminary and the New Evangelicalism. His other books include Fundamental-ism and American Culture, The Soul of the American University, The Outrageous Idea of Christian Schol-arship, Jonathan Edwards: A Life, A Shorter Life of Jonathan Edwards, and The Twilight of the American Enlightenment. He is working on a book about C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity for the Princeton Uni-versity Press Series, The Lives of Great Religious Books.

Marsden lives with his wife in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and is a member of the Christian Reformed Church. He has taught winter-term courses at Fuller in Pasadena several times in recent years.












American evangelical heritage, that of enterprising popular evangelism. Fuller stood directly in the traditions of White-field, Charles Finney, Dwight L. Moody, and Billy Sunday. Although he was an ordained Baptist minister, he was essentially an inde-pendent entrepreneur. Despite their popu-list style on the Old Fashioned Revival Hour, both Charles Fuller and his wife, Grace, were college educated and had respect for learning. Left to himself, however, Charles would likely have founded a Bible institute, following the model of Moody Bible Institute or of Biola. Their only child, Daniel Fuller, was, however, born to be a scholar and helped push the family toward founding a major seminary. The seminary, however, would never lose sight that it belonged to a constituency with a primary focus on evan-gelism and missions, on saving souls and making disciples at home and abroad. The spectacular rise of Billy Graham beginning with his Los Angeles crusade in 1949 and his association with the seminary as well as with the larger international evangelical movement helped keep these concerns in the forefront.

The seminary’s ongoing connections with popular evangelism also helped keep it from being sectarian. Its early creedal statement, even if broadly Reformed, was minimal and the school was always open to varieties of evangelical perspectives and connected to a wide range of gospel-oriented groups. People from all sorts of church backgrounds sup-ported the Old Fashioned Revival Hour. Sim-ilarly, as Billy Graham became the face of the movement in the 1950s, common admiration for him and his message provided one of the points of unity among peoples from a vast number of affiliations in the United States and around the world. Fuller reflected that same intra-evangelical spirit. So even if its teachings were defined largely by Reformed traditions, the school was also informed by pietist and holiness heritages. These more experientially oriented traditions would prepare it, for instance, to be open to aspects of the later charismatic renewal movements.

As these accounts already indicate, another evangelical tradition shaping Fuller was fun-

damentalism, or militant opposition to liberal theology. Some people have objected to the title of my book, Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Seminary and the New Evangelicalism. Fuller, they say, was never fundamentalist. Such objections are valid if one means by “fundamentalist” “a narrowly militant strict separatist” as the term came to be used by about 1960. But in 1947 “fundamentalism” had referred to a broader coalition of anti-mod-ernists. At that time almost all of Fuller’s constituents would have been willing to call themselves “fundamentalists,” as evidenced for instance by Carl Henry’s insider critique, The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamen-talism, published that year. By about 1960, however, the old “fundamentalist” coalition of which Fuller was a part had clearly split into two parts: a more open “evangelical” wing that identified with Billy Graham, and a more strictly militant “fundamentalist” wing that insisted on ecclesiastical separatism, the strictest personal mores, and Dispensation-alism. So in 1947 the Fuller founders were “fundamentalists,” but they represented the nonseparatist, reforming wing of fundamen-talism that would soon be called “neo-evan-gelical” or just “evangelical.”

Yet it is important to note that these “new evangelical” reformers of fundamentalism were also indelibly shaped by the recent history of the fundamentalist controversies of the preceding decades, particularly in their firm opposition to theological liberal-ism. While they wanted to hone down some of the rough edges of their heritage, such as Dispensationalism, their early creed com-mitted them to premillennialism and to the “inerrancy” of Scripture. Even after 1962 when “inerrancy” was rejected as not the best formulation regarding the character of Scripture, there was no wavering on the commitment to the Bible’s authority in what-ever it taught. Furthermore, Scripture was still to be interpreted within the framework of the evangelical heritage.

The spirit of the school as it came to be defined under David Hubbard was that of open evangelicalism, committed to staying within the boundaries of what was essen-tial to the biblicist, conversionist, broadly

Augustinian faith, but also dedicated to distinguishing those commitments clearly from what were matters of acceptable dif-ference. As an educational institution in a movement with many populist dimensions, one of the roles of the seminary has been to help to lead its constituent communities in making such distinctions. In that way Fuller has remained unmistakably evan-gelical, but also more open than are some other evangelicals who have moved less far from the old fundamentalist heritage of de-fensiveness. Such open evangelicalism has been defined by a peculiar combination of historical traditions that set Fuller on its course. I have here suggested some of the most formative of those traditions, but these were also interwoven with many other his-torical strands that might be mentioned as well. By the Hubbard years Fuller had de-veloped a distinctive identity and traditions of its own. These, in turn, have interacted in more recent decades with numerous other evangelical movements and tendencies, but basic patterns shaped in the earlier decades seem still to be in place.

Fuller’s particular pattern of evangelical-ism has appealed to constituencies from all over the world and from many American ethnic subcommunities, making Fuller one of the most genuinely diverse schools in the country. Unlike the artificial diversities that are cultivated in American public life, a common core of commitment to shared belief marks this diversity. True to the free enterprise nature of evangelicalism in which there is a constant interchange and interdependency of leadership and con-stituents, Fuller’s continuing wide appeal depends on staying close to its historical heritage. That means that it especially needs to keep its commitments to that core bibli-cist and conversionist message that gives world evangelicalism a degree of coherence. At the same time that Fuller is to a degree dependent on its constituents, it also has a leadership role to play in using its unique resources to help hone the traditions of the bewilderingly diverse set of evangelical movements and submovements with which it interacts.

+ from Henrietta C. Mears’ book What the Bible Is All About. Mears, one of the most influential Christian leaders of the twentieth century, is known for the development of Christian education at Hollywood Presbyterian Church and started Gospel Light Press to publish her widely used educational materials. She was the founder of the Christian conference center Forest Home, and, through her life and ministry, had a profound influence on Bill Bright (Campus Crusade), Jim Rayburn (Young Life), and the founders of Fuller Theological Seminary, including Charles E. Fuller and Harold Ockenga.

“Give the [Bible] a chance to speak for itself and to make its own impression; to bear its own testimony. As Johnny Cash is credited with saying: ‘the Bible sure does throw a lot of light on the commentaries.’ Let the spirit of God Himself teach you. We all have a right to read it for ourselves. . . . Read it seeking for illumination. It is a revelation and He will flash light upon the page as you come humbly. The Bible is a whole and we can’t tamper with it. For ex-ample, to add anything to the book of Rev-elation or take anything from it would mar its absolute perfection (Rev 22:18–19). The canon of scripture is closed. Other works throw valuable light upon it, but it stands unique, alone, and complete, and these parts all partake of the perfection of the whole.”

many of his fellow anti-modernists and rather wanted to rebuild evangelicalism within the American mainstream, including the major denominations to the extent that was possible. Part of his strategy, which ultimately proved successful, was to reclaim the word evangeli-cal. In 1942 he founded the National Associa-tion of Evangelicals as a major step in the re-building process. At the time, that movement was made up of evangelistically oriented an-ti-modernists who typically called themselves “fundamentalists.” During the 1940s Ockenga promoted the term “new evangelicals” for the movement associated with Fuller, and by the end of the 1950s, thanks in part to the suc-

cesses of Billy Graham, evangelical became the standard term for the nonseparatist wing of the movement.

One of the dimensions of the mainstream American cultural heritage that Ockenga hoped to restore was its intellectual, theolog-ical, and educational strength. No aspect of the movement had declined more drastical-ly in the past two generations. Most leading colleges and universities had become largely secular, and theological liberals and mod-ernists had taken over formerly evangelical seminaries. When Ockenga spoke about “The Challenge to the Christian Culture in

the West,” in his 1947 convocation address for the opening of the seminary [+ available online], it was this intellectual rebuilding that he saw as the school’s primary role in the re-covery of a degree of cultural leadership and influence. Ockenga had been hosting “schol-ars’ conferences” in New England for several years, but there were precious few well-cre-dentialed evangelical scholars. Most of those few were of Reformed theological heritage, and it was from that number that Ockenga recruited the early faculty.

Charles Fuller, the other principal founder, represented another major strand in the


church interpretations of the work of the Spirit through the worship and mission of the corporate body of Christ are more ho-listic than those found in much of Western evangelicalism today. Gregory of Nazianzus teaches about the Holy Spirit’s place in the Trinity and in our daily Christian lives:

The Spirit is the very One who created us and creates us anew through baptism and resurrection. The Spirit knows all things, teaches all things, moves where and when and as strongly as he wills. He leads, speaks, sends, and separates those who are vexed and tempted. He reveals, illumines, gives life, or better said, he is himself light and life. He makes us his temple, he sanctifies, he makes us com-plete. He both goes before baptism and follows after it. All that the Godhead ac-tively performs, the Spirit performs.5

Evangelicals who maintain a dualistic “fall of the church” view of Christianity common-ly see little value in critically retrieving the history of early and medieval Christianity, es-pecially from the time of Constantine (fourth century) until the Protestant Reformations of the sixteenth century.6 Yet, ironically, it is precisely in the centuries of late antiquity following Constantine that the Christian doc-trines of God (the Trinity) and Christ (two-na-ture Christology) reached the forms that most Christians profess today. So, understanding the historical development of these key doc-trines that shape the ways Christians read Scripture is vital for Fuller’s biblically based Christian identity. This understanding can only be achieved through careful study of the history of Christian thought.

NEO-EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANITYFuller’s understanding of evangelical Chris-tianity developed out of the emergence of neo-evangelicalism (also called “new evangeli-

calism”) following World War II and continuing into the early 1960s. Neo-evangelicalism may be understood as an effort to reform postwar fundamentalism. Indeed, George Marsden’s 40-year history of Fuller Seminary is entitled Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Seminary and the New Evangelicalism.7 David Hubbard succinctly listed the major issues that sepa-rated the new evangelicals from their funda-mentalist forebears:

For the past fifty [now seventy-five] years or so, the term “evangelical” has de-scribed those American and Canadian Christians who viewed themselves as con-servative without necessarily espousing some of the more negative traits of fun-damentalism: anti-intellectualism that suspects scholarship and formal learn-ing, especially when applied to the Bible or theology; apathy toward involvement in social concern, especially where polit-ical issues are in view; separation from all association with churches that are not themselves doctrinally pure.8

Christian Smith analyzes the neo-evan-gelicalism of the 1940s to the early 1960s as “a restructuring in the field of American [Protestant] religious identity.”9 According to Smith’s “subcultural identity theory,”10 a new category of evangelical Protestant Christian identity was formed, which was neither the fundamentalism nor the liberalism (mod-ernism) of the decades following the famous Scopes (“Monkey”) Trial of 1925.11 It was a new space where Protestants who were neither liberal nor fundamentalist could gather and flourish.

Fuller Seminary gradually became a parade example of this new evangelical identity. One of neo-evangelical Christianity’s dis-tinguishing characteristics is what Smith labels “engaged orthodoxy.”12 In other words,

the new evangelicals, while adhering to the Protestant orthodoxy of historic Christiani-ty, simultaneously were actively engaged in the intellectual and social issues of modern Western society. Instead of separating them-selves from the larger Christian community and the political and cultural issues of the day, as twentieth-century fundamentalists advocated, the new evangelicals brought their Christian faith into the life of the academy and the public “marketplace” of changing North American culture.

During the years since its founding in 1947, Fuller’s faculty and trustees have modified the Statement of Faith to express the semi-nary’s distinction from the North American Protestant fundamentalism of the Scopes Trial of 1925 through the 1950s. The most significant change—a broadening of the understanding of the infallibility of Scrip-ture—resulted from the leadership crisis of 1962–1963 that led to the presidency of David Hubbard, which lasted three decades (1963–1993).13 Fuller was reshaping the new evangelicalism of its founders in a way that reflected the broadening constituencies of self-identified American evangelicals. The most visible sociological change for Fuller was the rise of charismatic Christians, es-pecially the dramatic growth of global Pen-tecostalism.14

Following Hubbard’s thirty-year presiden-cy, Richard Mouw’s twenty-year presiden-cy (1993–2013) expanded the seminary’s commitment to engaged orthodoxy even further—particularly through dialogues with Jews, Mormons, and Muslims, as well as a major cultural and international expansion of the ministry of the seminary—for example, Korean academic programs, the major expan-sion of Centro Latino (the Hispanic Center), the further development of Fuller’s African American Center, the program with the St.

A n international seminary of the size and diversity of Fuller uses its key identifier “evangelical” with a wide

range of meanings and varied connotations. At the beginning of the Reformations of the sixteenth century, Martin Luther and his followers commonly called themselves

“evangelicals.” They used the name “evangel-icals” to express the claim that they based their teaching on the gospel (Latin, evangeli-um, from the greek euangelion, “good news”). Today many Lutheran churches retain

“evangelical” in their names, but may not identify themselves with the contemporary movement of Protestant evangelicalism.

The most widely accepted historical defi-nition of evangelicalism, proposed by D. W. Bebbington, identifies four marks that form a “quadrilateral” of evangelicalism’s prior-ities: “conversionism, the belief that lives need to be changed; activism, the expression of the gospel in effort; biblicism, a particular regard for the Bible; and . . . crucicentrism, a stress on the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.”1

In 1991 President David Hubbard authored a commentary on the ten articles of Fuller’s Statement of Faith entitled What We Evan-gelicals Believe.2 Hubbard’s work defines evangelicalism by basic Christian doctrines that “are the heart of evangelical faith.”3

Rather than trying to repeat or update Hubbard’s explanations of the doctrines of modern evangelicalism, this brief essay dis-cusses five basic watchwords to describe more broadly Fuller’s understanding of evangeli-cal Christianity: (1) historic Christianity, (2) neo-evangelical Christianity, (3) global Chris-tianity, (4) ecumenical Christianity, and (5) the movement of the reign (kingdom) of God.

HISTORIC CHRISTIANITYThe first watchword, “historic Christianity,”

emphasizes the connectedness of evangeli-cal Christianity to the history of Christianity. Evangelical faith is certainly founded upon the Bible, whose proper interpretation is the final authority—the norm or rule that makes all the other rules. Yet all Scripture needs to be interpreted. Understanding the long history of Christian interpretation of Holy Scripture (and Jewish interpretation of the Hebrew Bible), combined with the develop-ment of Christian doctrine and thought, is es-sential for proper interpretation of Scripture.

To take one simple example, Eugene Pe-terson’s dynamic translation, The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language, trans-lates Matthew 13:31 like this: “Another story. God’s kingdom is like a pine nut that a farmer plants.” Thus, the Parable of the Mustard Seed becomes the Parable of the Pine Nut. Now, suppose that some Chris-tian vegetarian with knowledge only of the literal text of The Message declares, “Pine nuts are good for your health—with 18.5 grams of protein per cup, many vitamins, minerals and phytosterols. What’s more, our Lord Jesus endorses them in Matthew 13:31!” What would prevent this kind of misguided interpretation of Scripture, which is as old as the ascetic “diet of the elect” of the ancient heresy of Manichaeism? As D. H. Williams contends, “if the aim of contemporary evan-gelicalism is to be doctrinally orthodox and exegetically faithful to Scripture, it cannot be accomplished without recourse to and integration of the foundational Tradition of the early church.”4

Recovering the biblical interpretation and doctrinal development of historic Christi-anity, including of course the rise of Refor-mation Protestantism, can point to scrip-turally based patterns of Spirit-led worship renewal and also dramatize the dangers of interpretive extremes. For example, early


Charles J. Scalise

Charles J. Scalise serves as profes-sor of church history for Fuller. An ordained American Baptist minister, Charlie and his wife, Dr. Pamela Scalise, professor of Old Testa-ment, have taught at Fuller for over two decades. They reside in Seattle and work closely with students at Fuller Northwest. Charlie specializes in early church history and American church history, supervising PhD students in both areas. Besides history and historical theology, he also does some writing and teaches some courses in theology, American im-migration, and the history of spiri-tuality.

Scalise is particularly interested in the research question of how Christians connect Scripture, theol-ogy, and ministry, writing two books on the Scripture/theology interface and one on the theology/practice question. He is currently the cochair of the American Academy of Religious (AAR) Conversions group and vice president (presi-dent-elect) of the Pacific Northwest region of AAR/SBL (Society of Bib-lical Literature).












Petersburg Evangelical Seminary, and dia-logues and exchange with China’s Nanjing Union Theological Seminary. Perhaps the most enduring exemplar of Mouw’s dialogi-cal approach with social and cultural issues may be found in his book Uncommon Decency: Christian Civility in an Uncivil World.15

GLOBAL CHRISTIANITYOne brief look at the pictures of the twenty white, all-male16 members of Fuller’s first graduating class of 1950 and those of the nearly 500 male and female graduates who participated in the 2014 Commencement (not including regional campus students and many distance education students) reveals a dramatic difference. The 2014 graduates include many international students17 and numerous racial and ethnic minority stu-dents.18 It is obvious that Fuller has become a multiethnic, international seminary, with a mission to global Christianity, especially in the Pacific Rim nations.

The development of mass evangelism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centu-ries went hand-in-hand with the expansion of evangelicalism. From D. L. Moody to Charles Fuller to Billy Graham, the media—newspapers, radio, then television, and now online communications—enhanced the visibility and developed the constituency of evangelical movements.19 The media-cen-tered approach to proclaiming the gospel message relied upon technological advanc-es, which accompanied the rise of the United States into a dominant world power. When this technology united with the widespread global missions movements of the period, evangelicalism began to move onto the world stage as a major, competing Christian tradition. The rise of Pentecostal missions, particularly stemming from the Azusa Street Revival, has significantly influenced and continues to shape both the character of global Christianity and the boundaries of the evangelical movement.

Even though the great majority of Euro- American evangelicals are self-identified Protestants, this is certainly not true of all evangelicals, especially in the Two-Thirds World. Significant racial and ethnic diversity increasingly characterizes global evangeli-calism, with dramatic increases in the twen-tieth century continuing into the twenty-first.

The emergence of “the next Christendom”20 in Africa, Latin America, and Asia indicates that evangelicalism, inclusive of Pentecostal and charismatic Christians, may emerge as one of the two or three largest Christian tra-ditions in the world.

Global evangelicalism is now a major player in shaping the world’s religious climate. The historic Anglo-American evangelical alliance that served as the foundation of the early evan-gelical movement now plays a diminishing role in today’s global evangelical movement. Evangelicals have now grown up internation-ally beyond their English and North Ameri-can origins, and Fuller as a leader in evangel-ical theological education is committed to its mission of serving global Christianity.

ECUMENICAL CHRISTIANITYBeing an evangelical is being part of a his-torical movement. In contrast to other major Christian traditions of the world, such as Roman Catholicism and Orthodoxy, with a defined hierarchical structure and “official theology,” evangelicalism has no official theology or central multidenominational hierarchy. The institutions of evangelical-ism—churches, denominations, parachurch mission groups, publishing houses, schools, and institutions of higher education, etc.—constitute an informal network or subcul-ture, rather than a logically ordered system. Beyond their own ministries, evangelicals have played significant roles in the develop-ment of ecumenical Christian social action projects such as Bread for the World and Habitat for Humanity.

Although evangelical Christians frequently move from one institutional expression of evangelicalism to another—e.g., “I was a Baptist but now am a Pentecostal,” or “I grew up in a nondenominational Bible church, but now am a Presbyterian”—there is a sense of remaining in the same general Christian tradition.

In the past, evangelicals have participated vigorously in the prejudice against anti-Ca-tholicism, which surprisingly survives in American society. As Philip Jenkins labels this anachronism, contemporary anti-Ca-tholicism is “the last acceptable prejudice” in America.21 (Of course, some evangelicals might disagree with Jenkins, instead main-taining that stereotypical prejudice against

Bible-believing Christians is also strong and increasing in American society.)

Significant differences in theology, worship, and material culture, as well as the long history of mutual hostility and conflict have sadly characterized relationships between Catholics and evangelical Protestants. So, today it is surprising to see the beginnings of some rapprochement between the Catho-lic Church and evangelical Christian groups. This has occurred in the areas of (1) formal Christian dialogues, especially between Catholics and denominational groups; (2) political alliances around common issues related to family life (abortion, sexuality, marriage, etc.) and cooperation on other social issues, as seen clearly, for example, in the Evangelicals and Catholics Together movement; and (3) the beginnings of less hostile relationships in evangelization and other forms of mission work. Since the two largest Christian groups in the world with strong and active mission activity are Catho-lics and evangelical Protestants, these some-times hidden new beginnings of cooperative missions hold significant promise for reshap-ing the Christian mission globally.22

THE MOVEMENT OF THE REIGN OF GODMany evangelicals do not consider their movement merely as a vehicle for building churches, but as a way of following the direc-tion of the reign or kingdom of God. This fits with the earlier postmillennial theology of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century evangel-icals, who believed the church was to partici-pate in building the kingdom of God here on earth.23 This belief is now often obscured by the rise of premillennial dispensationalism during the twentieth-century experience of world wars and other large-scale economic and social dislocations. Following the move-ment of the reign of God moves the church beyond its walls to encounter the working of God through the Holy Spirit for peace and justice in the world.

Since the nineteenth century, the history of social activism in evangelical Protestant-ism has primarily developed through the formation of parachurch or, more recently, megachurch organizations that embrace social change. Examples of a few of the parachurch organizations focusing on social action include World Vision, Evangelicals

for Social Action, and Sojourners/Call for Renewal. A highly visible example of a megachurch involved in social action is Sad-dleback Church’s Western Rwanda Health-care Initiative, led by Rick and Kay Warren.

Fuller’s President Mark Labberton calls clearly for training evangelical leaders who understand themselves as led by the kingdom of God. As he explains in his book Called, “Leaders with vision are more than people with hope. Many have hope, but few have vision. Vision is hope with commitment and energy.”24

The word evangelical identifies Fuller Theological Seminary as a gospel commu-nity, in continuity with historic Christianity and with Fuller’s roots in neo-evangelical Christianity. The seminary trains women and men for leadership across the globe, sharing with other ecumenical Christian communities who follow Christ through the leadership of the Holy Spirit. May God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, guide Fuller Seminary to discern wisely and pursue faithfully the movement of the Reign of God wherever it leads.


1. D. W. Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (London: Unwin Hyman, 1989), 3.2. David Allan Hubbard, What We Evangelicals Believe (Pas-adena, CA: Fuller Seminary Press, 1991).3. Hubbard, What We Evangelicals Believe, 9.4. D. H. Williams, Retrieving the Tradition and Renewing Evangelicalism: A Primer for Suspicious Protestants (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 13. 5. Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration 31, On the Holy Spirit 29, in Faith Gives Fullness to Reason: The Five Theological Orations of Gregory Nazianzen, trans. F. W. Norris (Leiden and New York: E.J. Brill, 1991), 296–97.6. Williams offers a useful analysis of the development and inadequacies of the “fall of the church” paradigm and “Con-stantinianism” (Retrieving the Tradition, 101–31).7. George Marsden, Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Sem-inary and the New Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987). 8. Hubbard, What We Evangelicals Believe, 5.9. Christian Smith, American Evangelicalism: Embattled and Thriving (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), 14.10. Smith, American Evangelicalism, 19; see also chapter 4, 89–119.11. For a balanced study introducing the Scopes Trial, see Edward J. Larson, The Summer of the Gods: The Scopes Trial and America’s Continuing Debate over Science and Religion (New York: Basic Books, 1997, 2006).12. Smith, American Evangelicalism, 10.

13. A detailed description of these events can be found in Marsden’s Reforming Fundamentalism, especially, “The Crisis and the Turning,” 197–219.14. For a recent account of the rise of global Pentecostalism, see Alan Heaton Anderson, To the Ends of the Earth: Pente-costalism and the Transformation of World Christianity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013). Fuller faculty Cecil M. Robeck and Amos Yong have edited The Cambridge Compan-ion to Pentecostalism, Cambridge Companions to Religion (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014).15. Richard J. Mouw, Uncommon Decency: Christian Civility in an Uncivil World (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1992; revised and expanded ed. 2010).16. In 1952 Helen (Holly) Clark MacGregor was Fuller’s first female graduate, but women were not allowed to receive the BD (now MDiv) degree at that time.17. In 2013 Fuller reported 985 international students, according to International (accessed 11/6/14). 18. According to IPEDS (The Integrated Postsecondary Ed-ucation Data System), in the Fall of 2013, 47% of Fuller students were of non-white race and ethnicity (including

16% nonresident alien students): (ac-cessed 11/6/14).19. William G. McLoughlin Jr., Modern Revivalism: Charles Grandison Finney to Billy Graham (New York: Ronald Press, 1959; repr. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2005).20. Philip Jenkins, The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity, rev. and expanded ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007). 21. Philip Jenkins, The New Anti-Catholicism: The Last Ac-ceptable Prejudice (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003).22. For further discussion of the historical and contempo-rary alliances and activism of North American evangelicalism, see Charles J. Scalise, “Protestant Evangelicalism,” in The Wiley-Blackwell Companion to Practical Theology, ed. Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore (Chichester and Oxford, UK, and Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012), 577–86.23. For specific historical examples of this early evangelical heritage, see Donald W. Dayton, Discovering an Evangelical Heritage (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1988).24. Mark Labberton, Called: The Crisis and Promise of Following Jesus Today (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2014).

+ from Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf und Pottendorf (1700–1760) in Christian Life and Witness: Count Zinzendorf’s 1738 Berlin Speeches. Zinzendorf was a reformer of the Moravian church, an acclaimed hymnwriter, and ultimately was named an Anglican saint.

“God sees according to his wisdom, so he can make an impression on each soul in the best, that is, most effec-tive, way. The meth-ods, occasions, and hours are different for all so that one cannot determine it. The Lord takes hold of one in preaching, another in his house, overcomes a third in the street, another again out in the field, and seizes a fifth in the very act of sinning. Therefore, it is not in accordance with the gospel to lay down fixed rules, or to set forth methods and forms in which souls must first be situated, or to expect a coin-cident method in the seeking and gathering of souls. One must entrust to the Savior’s free grace and judg-ment how he can and will reach souls.”


reading of Scripture fit more clearly into that category; the small community of Chris-tians of which I was now a part did not. But how could I explain this to him and to the growing number of people on campus who flung this accusation at us?

That is how I came to Fuller Theological Seminary. My college was nearby, and our InterVarsity staff had attended here. So I dove into Fuller’s library, gobbling up books on the so-called evangelical left. I discovered a rich history of other believers over hun-dreds of years who provided me with inspi-ration, from followers of Jesus who worked against slavery and poverty to others whose faith was creative, smart, and fearlessly engaged in intellectual debates of their day. If this was the evangelical left, then I wanted to be part of it.

Given Southern California’s cultural climate and disdain for “religious” people, attempts to clarify our position as evangelicals (albeit left-leaning ones) as distinct from fundamen-talists merely proved uninteresting to most people. But for me, the revelation that I had become a member of a movement dubbed evangelical was initially heartening. Having struggled for years to find a religious home, I now belonged. Others shared my desire to follow Christ as Lord and Savior, trusting in his Spirit to transform us and in his Word to shape our personal and shared life. In partic-ular, I wanted to claim the “left” aspect of this title not merely because it was descriptive of certain commitments (e.g., to justice, women in ministry, and peacemaking as well as to historical-critical scholarship); I also hoped I could be hip—rather than merely another religious moralistic freak. At bottom, I often still crave affirmation and belonging more than I want an abundant life that costs me, even if that cost is merely embarrassment.

S ometimes when I introduce myself at professional conferences, I say I am a Mennonite feminist evangelical. There

are many ways of hearing this, such as that I am enamored with labels or that I am clearly confused. But what I want to convey by ap-pealing to these descriptors is that I am not my own. Whatever hope I have to enjoy that eternal feast with Christ, it cannot come apart from joining myself to the bedrag-gled, ragtag family into which I have been baptized. Given my strong inclination to independence and perhaps even idolatrous desire to be “unique” and authentic, I am not naturally a joiner. After all, I was born in the 60s and now I live in the age of selfies.

I suspect for many a Fuller student, staff, faculty, and alum, claiming to be “evangel-ical” sometimes drops from our lips only re-luctantly. Perhaps like me, you might have a story of why that label both compels and repels you: It shapes the contours of your life and work, yet it also causes you to shift uncomfortably in your chair as you read an article, view a YouTube video, overhear a colleague’s rant, or listen to certain preach-ers. Yet despite the unlikeliness of it from a human perspective, I need to claim and be claimed by others if I am to be Christian. When I allow it, Fuller teaches me how to embody these particular identities—Catho-lic-turned-Anabaptist, feminist, and evangel-ical—so that they shape me for faithfulness to Christ. Indeed, this last term must shape the other two, so that they foster not merely my desire to be “cool” but rather direct me to the One who finally satisfies my desire to belong and forms me for faithfulness.

COOL BY ASSOCIATION: INVITED INTO A MOVEMENT“You are fundamentalists!” Or so claimed my Marxist professor, a secular Jew popular with students for his engaging if sometimes

rough-edged presentation of history. Like other students, I loved his class; he engaged us with his passion and pressed us with his radical criticism. In large part because of dedicated teachers like him, the experience at my small liberal arts college was enliven-ing and fascinating. Material in courses chal-lenged me intellectually; I discovered poetry in English and debated mutual assured de-struction as a nuclear policy with an ex-CIA Sovietologist in political science. Like many in college, I enjoyed new, unfettered personal freedom while exploring a life of the mind.

An important aspect of this freedom for me was religious. My faith had been shaped by a devout Catholic upbringing and 12 years of parochial schools, as well as by a brother who introduced me to a God who knew me intimately and was engaged in the world. If my Catholic heritage forever created an appreciation for liturgy and attentiveness to morality, my brother’s born-again expe-rience and abiding faith offered a glimpse of a Jesus who saves souls, including mine. My brother was then—and remains today—a model of faithfulness for me. But by the time I hit college, I had begun to doubt his dis-pensational reading of Scripture. Alongside Shakespeare, I seriously studied the Bible for the first time. I heard Jesus issue an in-vitation in the Gospel of Mark: “Anyone who would lose her life will save it, anyone who saves her life will lose it.” I re-envisioned my career and spent the remainder of college learning to share resources, praying, and overall seeking a life formed by the Bible stories I studied each week with others.

By the time this professor “accused” us of being fundamentalists, I recognized that he was wrong not because he was trying to be insulting, but rather because he was being historically inaccurate. My brother’s



Erin Dufault-Hunter teaches Chris-tian Ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary. This year, she teaches as part of our new core curriculum, one of several faculty offering the class on the Practices of Christian Community. She is the author of The Transformative Power of Faith: A Narrative Theory of Conversion (Lexington, 2013) as well as various articles and book chapters, and recently edited a book on health-care missions with Bryant Myers and Isaac Voss entitled Health, Healing, and Shalom: Frontiers and Challenges for Christian Healthcare Missions (William Carey Library, 2014). Dufault-Hunter regularly speaks and writes on various aspects of our moral life, including sexuality, bioethics, and diversity. She is working on a book for Baker Academic entitled Sex and Salva-tion: How the Erotic Matters for our Life with God.

“Are you an evangelical?” “Is your church an evangelical church?” If they are asked, the majority of Korean pastors would say yes to both questions. Regardless of which denom-ination they belong to, they would acknowledge that evan-gelicalism expresses their identity and understanding of Christian beliefs and practices in the local church and in various other life settings. From the outset, Korean Protes-tant churches were strongly influenced by evangelical mis-sionaries from North America. These missionaries from Presbyterian or Methodist denominations used the word evangelical in naming the ecumenical council they organized in 1912 (“Federal Council of Protestant Evangelical Missions in Korea”). The evangelical identity of the Korean church was shaped and strengthened over decades, and the terms evan-gelical and evangelicalism have a range of meanings in the Korean context just as in the American one. Korean evangel-icals share convictions about the absolute authority of the Bible, commitment to the Reformed tradition, and strong passion for evangelism.

Current Korean evangelicals and evangelical churches are facing challenges. Churches are increasingly irrelevant to young people. The gospel of the kingdom of God is often replaced with the prosperity gospel, intended to please itching ears. Some pastors lacking in theological discern-ment are quick to embrace things that are contradictory to the gospel for the sake of church growth, and congregants are vulnerable to their heretical teachings. Churches are losing credibility among those outside the church because of the moral and ethical missteps of pastoral leaders. Careless talk from pastors and Christian leaders in the public square make churches appear to be irrational, selfish, rude, aggres-sive, exclusivistic interest groups. There are a considerable number of Christians who, out of frustration, decide not to attend any church, even though they profess the Christian faith. These are often called “Gha-nah-ahn members” (who may be compared to unchurched people).

Korean evangelicals will need to figure out how to meet these challenges that may lead Korean evangelical churches toward catastrophic failure. Some Christian leaders are skeptical of this possibility, but crisis can open a window of opportunity. There are a growing number of young evangelical pastors, Christian intellectuals, and emerging Christian leaders who

dream a new dream for Korean evangelicalism. In his recent book A Paradigm Shift in Korean Churches (Holy Wave Plus Press, 2011 [in Korean]), Fuller faculty colleague Professor Hak Joon Lee strongly urges Korean Christians to venture toward a new paradigm of church and ministry emphasizing public spirituality. His message is well received by young evangelicals and emerging Christian leaders. A few years ago a group of evangelical pastors formed the Korean Evangelical Church Alliance, emphasizing the recovery of the holistic gospel of the kingdom of God in order to reclaim the credibil-ity of the Korean church and particularly of Korean evangel-ical churches. They try to build church communities on a holistic understanding of the kingdom of God. They teach church members to live as faithful followers of Jesus Christ not just in private life but in public spheres. They collaborate with other reform groups such as Protest 2002 to further the Korean church renewal movements. There are other organi-zations as well that attempt to foster theological discernment and critical reasoning among young evangelicals. For example, Chungeoram Academy convenes conferences and seminars on various topics so that young evangelicals can rethink and reshape their evangelical identity (for more, visit

Fuller is known to Korean pastors and evangelical churches as the largest evangelical seminary in North America. Korean students come to Fuller to be trained with an open evangelicalism that holds true to orthodoxy, engages culture innovatively, and furthers the gospel by seeking to embody God’s rule in every area of life. This is how Fuller and Korean evangelicals can think and work together to help Korean evangelicals meet the contemporary challenges of our time.

+ JIN KI HWANG joined the Fuller faculty in 2010 as assistant professor of New Testament for the School of Theology’s Korean Doctor of Ministry (KDMin) program and became assistant dean in 2011.












THE LURE OF BEING “SOCIALLY PROGRESSIVE” Fairly quickly, any hope to belong by asso-ciation to the cool crowd via evangelicalism diminished. I got more familiar with evan-gelicalism, and I often didn’t particularly like what I saw. Kinnaman and Lyons’s book UnChristian1 highlights more recently and for a younger generation what many of us within the movement could have named as bizarre, inconsistent, or wrong with evangel-ical Christian culture long ago. As one who was raised Catholic, so aspects of the evan-gelical subculture—from cheesy book covers to predictable chorus chord progressions to Christian lingo—caused me to squirm for strictly ethnic or cultural reasons. As I con-tinued to grow in my faith, this label that I claimed—or that had claimed me through Bible studies, conferences, and worship ex-periences—sat uneasily on my shoulders. Like many others of my generation and the current one, I pondered whether I could get along just fine without labels, be they names of denominations or of movements. Why not simply say I follow Jesus (whom people seem to like even if they do not know about him) and avoid the baggage that comes along with communal markers? Why not adopt an alter-native identity, one unmarred by the distress and mortification the evangelical movement inevitably provokes in me (and in others like me)? I might even be better off as a witness for the gospel, unfettered by potentially dis-tracting associations.

Over time, at least two other markers consis-tently offered themselves as descriptions of my commitments: Mennonite and feminist. Both of these seem at first blush to offer a greater chance for being Christian-yet-cool than the title “evangelical.” That is, despite claiming them, I might still get invited to an intelligent dinner party.

While now out of favor in mainstream culture as well as in Christian ones, “feminist” might at least still get me entrance into gatherings sometimes hailed as socially progressive. For me, commitment to this perspective remains both personally and theologically necessary. On one hand I say I am a feminist to honor my mother, an intelligent woman born the year women got the right to vote. She had two choices of career: teacher or nurse. Like

many women and men in the world, neither of the available options quite fit her. She deeply loved, supported, and respected my father. But she also wrestled with raising seven children while maintaining a career as a nurse anesthetist, often displaying profound unhappiness and sometimes despair. Yet in all this, she also encouraged me to explore an alternative way of negotiating my roles as a woman. To honor all the complexity that was my mother, I claim the title feminist.

Among many these days, including women, feminism has fallen out of fashion; to many evangelicals it smacks of the worst of liber-alism. After all, I am not my mother; I have a career I chose and was allowed (note that) to attend seminary and now to teach in one. Why not dump the label if I have to consis-tently nuance it and distance myself from those “other” women—or if they consistently distance themselves from me? But I remain one generation away from those considered too emotional to participate in public life. More obviously, women around the world as well as within my own city continue to struggle against poverty, inequities, gender violence, and sexism in myriad forms. Al-though others fail to recognize its theological significance, feminism identifies a determi-nation to name the dull, banal, sinful pat-terns into which we fell so long ago. As such, feminist writings and insights remind us to attend to these stifling effects on true unity that such patterns inevitably inflict. Because I am an evangelical, I know that feminist in-tuitions can work to reroute humans out of the tired ruts of oppression, blame, and isola-tion and onto the way of Jesus. Via a path lit by surprising texts from the Song of Songs to 1 Corinthians, we work out our partnership in service, love, and witness in a kingdom unlike any other. And lest we become too enamored by the label of being “oppressed,” evangelicalism reminds me that women are just as sinful and violent as men (albeit some-times differently, given available weaponry). After all, “equality” cuts both ways.

In the current cultural climate, “Anabap-tist” more readily seems likely to evoke the coveted dinner invitation. Like converts, my college community thought we had dis-covered true Christianity. Unlike countless

other Christians asleep at the wheel of faith, we took Scripture seriously; among other texts, we read the Sermon on the Mount and sought to build our houses on obedience to Christ. You can imagine our shock when those exposed to church history told us that the discoveries we had made about, say, non-violent resistance to evil, simple living, and discipleship had been adopted by Christians since the beginning, let alone that they were encoded in confessions of entire denomina-tions. Here, too, I would wrestle with the desire to remain unattached and unfettered by labels. While the broad descriptor “Ana-baptist” honored my Catholic heritage while importantly redefining it, I particularly balked at joining a denomination. Aren’t they all merely institutions that stifle real faith? But eventually, I recognized that I needed a community of like-minded Chris-tians who were given permission to cajole and wrestle my stubbornly selfish, fearful, and violent self into God’s good kingdom. I caved and eventually joined a Mennonite congregation, while still holding (sometimes reluctantly) to my evangelical identity. Why the need for both, especially if “Mennonite” now names a distinctive embodiment of faith to which I am deeply committed?

Indeed, many Mennonites shirk the label “evangelical,” especially as it often associ-ates us with US Christians who narrate their relationship to the nation-state quite differently than we do. But most recently my tiny adopted tradition has become cool; non-violence has become fashionable (and God help us if we so depreciate the cost of waging peace). We have too often forgotten the words of Menno Simons, the Catholic priest turned persecuted reformer from whom the tradi-tion takes its name. He spoke famously of

“true evangelical faith.” Most often quoted is this lovely yet challenging section explain-ing new life in Christ:

For true evangelical faith is of such a nature that it cannot lay dormant; but manifests itself in all righteousness and works of love; it dies unto flesh and blood; destroys all forbidden lusts and desires; cordially seeks, serves and fears God; clothes the naked; feeds the hungry; consoles the afflicted; shelters the miser-

able; aids and consoles all the oppressed; returns good for evil; serves those that injure it; prays for those that persecute it; teaches, admonishes and reproves with the Word of the Lord; seeks that which is lost; binds up that which is wounded; heals that which is diseased and saves that which is sound. The persecution, suffering and anxiety which befalls it for the sake of the truth of the Lord, is to it a glorious joy and consolation.

Too frequently forgotten in this same work is Simon’s insistence on the cross as the source of our forgiveness, on the centrality of Christ for the newness of life that renders such self-offering love possible for even people like us.2 Thus Mennos, like me, is indeed evangelical; if this isn’t good news, what is? We, too, rightly belong to the family of those who seek transformation by Christ through the Spirit, veritably exploding with this news of God’s reconciliation in word and deed throughout a troubled and troubling world. Like other traditions that bring rich insights to our one table of remembrance and celebra-tion, Anabaptists remind evangelicalism to reject a gospel that cleanly severs salvation from the embodied needs of us all but par-ticularly of the poor, outcast, forgotten, and suffering. Whoever claims such concerns are merely “social gospel” or “liberal” miss Scripture’s insistence that the gift of redemp-tion extends through us to others who long for healing and hope. Meanwhile, at Fuller my Reformed friends niggle at me, warning me not to remake God into a tame deity ren-dered manageable by a limited vision of the atonement or by a cheap, hipster pacifism. They challenge me to consider how it is that I say I want to live as a resident alien and yet remain so clearly an American.

OUR END: ACCEPTING THE INVITATION TO THE FAMILY FEAST WITH THE CRAZIESI confess that I continue to wish myself into a family that never causes me mortification by association or dares to challenge my spir-ituality, ethics, or politics. But of course that wouldn’t be family; it would be more like a country club, PAC, or monochrome social network. I continue to claim evangelicalism and celebrate Fuller’s insistence on shared lineage. But importantly I am also claimed

by it, forced to consider how my Anabaptist and feminist convictions must shape my work and witness so that they are clearly tethered to Christ’s Word and Way.

Just as I cringe a bit at the bra-burning days of feminists, I also wince at some of my fellow evangelicals’ comments or thin theological grounding for moral stances ranging from economics to foreign policy to family life. But as I experience repeat-edly at this messy, wondrous experiment of extended kinship called “Fuller,” I need my crazy kin. Just as I did not choose my blood family, I did not decide who would also come into this space of open gifts of grace and peace through Christ. We all have crazy aunts and uncles (and of course, I am surely someone else’s ranting reli-gious family freak). Despite our sometimes tense and important divergences, we are all claimed by the good news of what God has done in Christ, enticed by what God reveals in Scripture, and invigorated by the Spirit for engagement with a creation beloved by the One who created it.

In the end, being a Mennonite feminist evangelical might not get me that invita-tion to an intellectually stimulating dinner party of the hip and cool. But my hope is that each of these—particularly that pesky claim

“evangelical”—forms me for the Messiah’s eternal familial feast. In the meantime, I find myself circling back to this particular evangelical table called Fuller, hungry as I was so many years ago for friends who also commit themselves to a life formed by the strange and wonderful hope we have in Christ amidst a rather dark world.


1. David Kinnaman is president of the Barna Group, an evangelical Christian polling firm with nearly 100 nationwide studies on Americans, clergy, faith, and cultural dynamics.2. He goes on: “[Believers] break the bread of peace with their beloved brethren as proof and testimony that they are one in Christ and his holy church and that they have, or know no other means of grace and remission of their sins, neither in heaven nor in earth, than the innocent flesh and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ alone, which he once, by his eternal Spirit in obedience to the Father, sacrificed and shed upon the cross for us poor sinners; they walk in all love and mercy, and serve their neighbors.” From The Complete Works of Menno Simons (Elkhart, IN: 1871).

“The church does not exist for me; my salvation is not primarily a matter of intellectual mastery or emotional satisfaction. The church is the site where God renews and transforms us—a place where the practices of being the body of Christ form us into the image of the Son. What I, a sinner saved by grace, need is not so much answers as reformation of my will and heart. What I describe as the practices of the church include the traditional sacramental prac-tices of baptism and Eucharist but also the practic-es of Christian marriage and child-rearing, even the simple but radical practices of friendship and being called to get along with those one doesn’t like! The church, for instance, is a place to learn patience by practice. The fruit of the Spirit emerges in our lives from the seeds planted by the practices of being the church; and when the church begins to exhib-it the fruit of the Spirit, it becomes a witness to a postmodern world. Nothing is more countercultural than a community serving the Suffering Servant in a world devoted to consumption and violence.”

+ from James K. A. Smith, in Who’s Afraid of Postmodernism? Taking Derrida, Lyotard, and Foucault to Church. As professor of philosophy at Calvin College and Gary and Henrietta Byker Chair in Applied Reformed Theology and Worldview, James K. A. Smith will be the lecturer for Fuller’s annual Payton Lectures in April 2015. He is widely published, with topics of interest that include radical orthodoxy, the continental philosophy of religion, urban altruism, and science and theology.


cals regarding inequities in the social order in America. Regarding efforts to increase social awareness where race is concerned, I am reminded of a happening during a world convention of evangelical leaders during the late 1960s. While attending the World Con-gress on Evangelism held in Berlin, Germany, in November 1966, those of us who were dele-gates heard many position papers that treated aspects of the Congress theme: “One Race, One Gospel, One Task.” Interestingly, and prob-lematically, as we listened across ten days, we African American delegates discovered that no attention had been devoted in any position paper to the first part of the Congress theme, “One Race,” nor had any official paper about race been distributed for private reading. The Congress delegates had been drawn togeth-er from across the world, literally, and the vast assemblage—representing the largest ecumenical and evangelical gathering of the church since Pentecost, A.D. 33—reflected great diversity of backgrounds, nationalities, geographical locations, and color distinctions, and yet no major statement about the oneness of the human race had been voiced or written.

We African American delegates discussed this among ourselves and were granted an audience with Carl F. H. Henry, the Congress chairman, to question the evident omission. (Interestingly, it later came to our attention that some delegates from Africa, India, and South America had noticed the omission also.) While talking with Dr. Henry about the omission, he apologized on behalf of the plan-ning committee; he stated that the “One Race” aspect of the Congress theme had been taken for granted, and therefore no one was assigned to treat it. Henry then asked if we would be willing to work at developing a summary statement about “One Race” that could be included in the final report to be distributed to the world press as an outcome of the Con-gress. A number of us agreed to do so: Robert

“Bob” Harrison, Howard O. Jones, Ralph Bell, Jimmy McDonald, Louis Johnson, and James Earl Massey.5 We worked late into the night but managed to develop a clearly focused statement about race. We wrote forthrightly about human equality as a biblical principle based on the oneness of the human family under God as Creator. We stressed the im-portance of agape-love in our dealings with all humans and the need to reject racial and na-tional barriers that forbid full fellowship and cooperative ministry. Our statement did not offer any distinct strategies for dealing with racism, but our concern at that point was not to prod decision about strategy. Our concern was rather to give a basic statement that de-clared our biblical understanding of human oneness, with racism understood as a social evil, an unjust pattern in society, and a barrier to cooperative evangelism. As it turned out, what we prepared was viewed as the strongest statement evangelicals had ever made on the subject of race until that time.6

It is important to mention a few of the African American evangelicals who have helped to stimulate social action and promote better race relations within American evangelicalism.

1. Howard O. Jones (1921–2010) was an as-sociate evangelist with the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association for 35 years and was Graham’s first African American colleague. To understand the responsible level at which Jones helped American evangelicalism, one need only read his book White Questions to a Black Christian and Edward Gilbreath’s biog-raphy of Jones, Gospel Trailblazer. The ques-tions Jones treated in his book were those put to him on “the race question” during many evangelistic crusades, at Bible conferences, during missionary conventions, engagements at colleges and seminaries, and questions sent to him in response to his longtime and award-winning radio ministry.7

2. Tom Skinner (1942–1994) was a national evangelist whose book Black and Free chron-icled his movement from a street gang leader in Harlem to a converted spokesman for Jesus across the nation and into other parts of the world.8 His keynote address at Urbana 1970, InterVarsity’s missions conference in Champaign- Urbana, Illinois, is still herald-ed as one of the most influential statements to young evangelicals, both White and Black, about renewal, mobilization, and effectiveness as evangelical witnesses in the world.9

3. William H. Bentley, a Chicago-based min-ister-theologian (and Fuller Seminary grad-uate), gave steady and strategic leadership to the National Black Evangelical Association (NBEA, founded in Los Angeles, California, in 1963) and actively promoted a distinctly bibli-cal, theological, and social framework of study within which the Black perspective could be adequately reflected. During Bentley’s pres-idency of the NBEA, a prominent concern was to understand and explain Blackness as a God-given distinctive out of which African Americans can serve with a proper self-under-standing and relate with dignity to all others. His thematic approach as a leader was based on two nonnegotiable ends: “Fellowship and Ministry—these are the poles around which the Association revolves.”10 Bentley’s theo-logical leadership among Black evangelicals has been recognized within the wider spec-trum of American evangelicalism; he wrote the chapter on “Black Believers in the Black Community” for the book The Evangelicals, which David F. Wells and John D. Woodbridge edited.11 That chapter explained Black evan-gelicalism as a very distinct phenomenon orig-inally rooted in the theology and cultus of the Bible school movement, which had educated most of the more prominent African Ameri-can evangelicals. The chapter explained why Blacks had forthrightly acted in the social arena, and why they found it necessary to


African Americans have long been valued and treasured in the evangelical faith, having received from and contributed to the multiphased spectrum of evangelicalism in the United States. The gospel message still pervades and orders teachings promoted within the majority of Black church groups. A biblical frame of reference still informs and controls Black faith. Black evangelical churches still emphasize the importance of the biblically based faith that God has re-vealed himself in Jesus, that Jesus is Savior and Lord, and that his expected return will precede the final judgment of history by a just God. Almost since the beginning of the Black presence in this country, African Americans have responded to a biblically based gospel that they have tested and proved. They have shared spiritual experiences and passed on the evangelical heritage with concern, cre-ativity, and gusto. The development of Black evangelical churches and denominations stands as historical proof.

Black evangelicals have been neither defi-cient in their theology nor delinquent in their witness. Firmly convinced that Scripture is the Word of God for all of life, and aware of implications of the scriptural statement that “from one ancestor [God] made all nations to inhabit the whole earth” (Acts 17:26 nrsv), they have long questioned and protested against the racist barriers that made sepa-rate Black congregations and denominations necessary. Black religious separatism was not initially something that evangelical African Americans desired. Historian Albert J. Rabo-teau, assessing the Black experience in Amer-ican evangelicalism during and after slavery, commented: “The opportunity for Black reli-gious separatism was due to the egalitarian character of evangelical Protestantism; its necessity was due, in part, to the racism of White Evangelicals.”1 Although separateness was forced upon African Americans, that sep-

arateness occasioned Black self-affirmation, independence, and pride as African Amer-icans staked their claim in such distinctive groupings as “African Methodist” or “African Baptist,” and so forth. These distinctive group-ings also became a meaningful social setting and a political base from which to face and engage the forces of a racist society.2

Historian Earle E. Cairns, in his 1973 book The Christian in Society, wrote that “Contem-porary Evangelicals, who for a time ignored their responsibility as Christians in Society, are becoming increasingly aware that . . . they have a responsibility to put the principles of Christ into action . . . in the social order in which they live.”3 Although Cairns did not dwell at length on what had stimulated that awareness, we must remember that he wrote after the Civil Rights movement had prodded major changes on the social scene in America during the decades of the 1950s and 1960s. To be sure, some change in evangelical social views were stimulated by Carl F. H. Henry’s articles in Christianity Today magazine and in his strategic book Aspects of Christian Social Ethics; Sherwood Wirt also called attention to several clear issues needing evangelical re-sponse in his book The Social Conscience of the Evangelical.4 But it should not be overlooked that both Henry and Wirt, among others, wrote after much sensitizing about the flawed social scene in this nation had been initiated by socially active African American leaders. The “increasing awareness” among evangel-icals about being more socially responsible as Christians was stimulated either directly or indirectly by the clear ethical demands that victimized Blacks had been calling attention to across the nation.

Efforts to prod evangelicals to become more active in dealing with social and racial issues have had to be insistent because of an appar-ent blindness on the part of many evangeli-

Over his lifetime of ministry, James Earl Massey has served numerous roles, including pastor, theological educator, scholar, and musician. Massey is dean emeritus of Anderson School of Theology in Anderson, Indiana. From 1954 to 1976 he served as senior pastor of the Metropolitan Church of God in Detroit and then as speaker on the Christian Brotherhood Hour radio broadcast (1977–1982). He was dean of the Tuskegee University Chapel from 1984 to 1989 and dean of Anderson School of Theology from 1989 to 1995.

Dr. Massey has served churches and educational institutions for more than 50 years, walking alongside such seminal leaders as Martin Luther King Jr. and Howard Thurman. He is the author of 18 books, including three textbooks on preaching. His recent book, Aspects of My Pilgrimage, pays tribute to the great religious leaders who influenced Massey’s life’s journey.

Massey has preached and lectured at more than a hundred colleges, universities, and seminaries in the United States and on four continents.












redefine the issues for which White defini-tions and approaches were inadequate—the development of a Black theology being a case in point—and the active involvement of Black evangelical pastor-scholars in shaping Black caucuses to help effect change in denomina-tional systems where African Americans have been in the minority position.

4. John Perkins’s Voice of Calvary Minis-tries in Mississippi and his insightful books Let Justice Roll Down and With Justice for All marked him as a master planner for racial betterment and church witness.12

5. William E. Pannell has been an evange-list-interpreter-activist and seminary pro-fessor within American evangelicalism. In his provocative book My Friend, the Enemy, Pannell vividly set forth his personal story of how the Civil Rights movement helped him to understand how the inadequate anthro-pology of the White church group culture in which he was reared had obscured the value and meaning of his Black heritage.13 Educated for ministry in the Bible college movement, Pannell evangelized widely and effectively, then partnered with Tom Skinner Ministries. Following his service years with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, Pannell became professor of evangelism and director of Black church studies at Fuller Theological Seminary, and later professor of preaching and dean of the chapel before his retirement.

This treatment has been limited. So is my ad-mittedly brief list of African American evan-gelicals who have been prominent within American evangelicalism. But given the large number of churches African Americans have developed, the continuing influence of the Black music tradition within the evangelical music scene, the impact on evangelical pulpits of the Black preaching tradition, shared in-sights from Black urban churches about min-istering in the city, and the prodding work of African Americans to help White evangel-icals become socially responsible to combat racism, it should be clear that African Amer-icans have indeed embraced and advanced evangelicalism. The relationship of African Americans with American evangelicalism, while steady, has never been sentimental; the Black critique has always been geared to correct so as to heighten an evangelical influ-ence in American life.

In the mid-1970s, evangelical Christianity was growing faster in America than any

other “brand” or religious movement (num-bering more than 40 million by 1977).14 Despite that growth, however, evangelical-ism was not influencing the social level of American life to any measurable extent. The need to do so remains, and African Amer-icans remain poised to assist in increasing that influence.


1. Albert J. Raboteau, “The Black Experience in American Evangelicalism: The Meaning of Slavery,” in The Evangeli-cal Tradition in America, ed. Leonard I. Sweet (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1984), 183. 2. See Gayraud S. Wilmore, Black Religion and Black Rad-icalism (Garden City, NY: Anchor Press, Doubleday, 1973), esp. chap. 4, 103–35.3. Earle E. Cairns, The Christian in Society (Chicago: Moody Press, 1973), 62.4. Carl F. H. Henry, Aspects of Christian Social Ethics (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1964); Sherwood Wirt, The Social Con-science of the Evangelical (New York: Harper & Row, 1968).5. For two personal reports about this happening during the Congress, see Bob Harrison, with Jim Montgomery, When God Was Black (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1971), 145–46; James Earl Massey, Concerning Christian Unity: A Study of the Relational Imperative of Agape Love (Anderson, IN: Warner Press, 1979), 121–26.6. The full text of the Congress Statement is available in One Race, One Gospel, One Task, ed. Carl F. H. Henry and Stanley Mooneyham (Minneapolis: World Wide Publications, 1967), 1:5–7.7. Howard O. Jones, White Questions to a Black Christian (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1975); Howard O. Jones and Edward Gilbreath, Gospel Trailblazer: An African American Preacher’s Historic Journey across Racial Lines (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2003). See also Grant Segall, “Rev. Howard Jones, 89, Billy Graham Associate,” The Cleveland Plain Dealer, November 20, 2010, obituary notice page.8. Tom Skinner, Black and Free (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1968).9. See Edward Gilbreath, “A Prophet Out of Harlem,” Chris-tianity Today, September 16, 1996.10. See William H. Bentley, National Black Evangelical Asso-ciation Reflections on the Evolution of a Concept of Ministry (Chicago: self-published, 1979), 10. See also William H. Bentley, National Black Evangelical Association: Bellwether of a Movement, 1963–1988 (Chicago: National Black Evangelical Association, 1988); “National Black Evangelical Association,” in Encyclopedia of African American Culture and History, ed. Jack Salzman, David Lionel Smith, and Cornel West (New York: Macmillan, 1996); “The Rise of African-American Evangelical-ism in American Culture,” in Perspectives on American Religion and Culture, ed. Peter Williams (Oxford: Blackwell, 1999).11. The Evangelicals, ed. David F. Wells and John D. Wood-bridge (Nashville: Abingdon, 1975).12. John Perkins, Let Justice Roll Down (Ventura, CA: Regal, 1976), and With Justice for All (Ventura, CA: Regal, 1982).13. William Pannell, My Friend, the Enemy (Waco, TX: Word Books, 1968).14. See Time, December 26, 1977, feature story, 52–58. For a recent study treating strengths and weaknesses within evangelicalism and some of the issues being contested within evangelicalism’s separate camps, see Four Views on the Spectrum of Evangelicalism, by Kevin T. Bauder, R. Albert Mohler Jr., John G. Stackhouse Jr., and Roger E. Olson (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011).

“The most important issue we face today is the same the church has faced in ev-ery century: Will we reach our world for Christ? In other words, will we give priority to Christ’s command to go into all the world and preach the gospel? Or will we turn in-creasingly inward, caught up in our own internal affairs or controversies, or simply be-coming more and more com-fortable with the status quo? Will we become inner-directed or outer-directed? The central issues of our time aren’t eco-nomic or political or social, important as these are. The central issues of our time are moral and spiritual in nature, and our calling is to declare Christ’s forgiveness and hope and transforming power to a world that does not know him or follow him. May we never forget this.”

+ from Billy Graham in an interview with Christianity Today. Graham [1918–] is an American evangelist and spiritual advisor to several presidents, known for his revival rallies. Committed to integration in his crusades, he invited Martin Luther King Jr. to preach with him and bailed King out of jail when he was arrested in demonstrations. A member of Fuller’s board from 1958 to 1965, Graham helped provide guidance to the seminary during a formative season. He has remained a strong ally since.


the conservative Protestant world at the end of the nineteenth century—crystallized by Presbyterian minister and founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance A. B. Simpson (1843–1919). This points to interest-ing turn-of-the-twentieth-century connec-tions and raises interesting questions. On one side, Simpson’s Presbyterian formation con-stituted one thread of the Reformed tradition’s influences on the nascent Pentecostal move-ment. This has ecumenical potential even if this Reformed element of the Pentecostal tradition has been relatively underdeveloped at least at the theological level. On the other hand, the fourfold motif was propagated in part through the Holiness movement, and it is this Wesleyan stream that has grown in the last generation among Pentecostal theo-logians in quest of ecumenical conversation partners. The result, however, is that contem-porary Pentecostal theology has more clearly identifiable affinities with Wesleyan than Reformed traditions. We will unpack various aspects of these developments going forward.

WHITHER THE SPIRIT OF GLOBAL CHRISTIANITY?Arguably, Pentecostalism is deeply evangeli-cal in its pietistic, Holiness, and evangelistic/missionary spirituality. In Anglo-American contexts shaped by conservative Protestant-ism’s biblicism (not to mention the Wesleyan commitment to scriptural authority, Wesley being known as a man of one book: the Bible), Pentecostals are lovers of and believers in the Bible as much as anyone else. In Global-South contexts, however, where literacy is less per-vasive and where oral cultures predominate, the reception of “biblical Christianity” takes on a different form. Pentecostal movements have been especially vibrant in these majority world contexts not because of their high views of Scripture (although these have certainly been present) but because of their pneumatic spirituality. Amidst cosmological worldviews populated by many spiritual entities, not to mention layers of spiritual realities, Pentecos-talism’s pneumacentric religiosity interfaces more organically with indigenous beliefs, practices, and sensitivities. Global Christian-ity is exploding especially among Pentecostal and charismatic churches and movements in part because of this convergence of spiritual instincts and sensibilities.

Pentecostal spirituality, however, challenges

evangelical commitments especially on this register. It is not so much that biblical authority is minimized as it is that Scripture’s normativ-ity is received and adhered to pneumatically, or pneumatologically, through the ongoing manifestation, presence, and activity of the Holy Spirit. While Reformed defenders of sola scriptura might consider such pneumaticism as competing against and subordinating the Word, Pentecostals presume these in tandem, convinced that the living potency of the Bible is pneumatically mediated. So if the latter do not doubt that the Spirit empowers contemporary believers to both believe in and follow in the footsteps of the apostles, including imitating the apostolic subservience to the leading of the Spirit, then the former believe that such irrevo-cably leads Pentecostals down the path of em-bracing “new revelation” and that this inevita-bly misleads the faithful beyond the confines of Scripture. If Pentecostals think themselves more fully trinitarian on this score because of a more robust pneumatology, evangelicals worry about an errant pneumato-monism instead. Conversely, Pentecostals decry at least some expressions of evangelicalism as lifeless (i.e., Spirit-less), biblicistic, and even bibliolatrous.

CHARISMATIC RENEWAL: UNITY AND DIVERSITY? Things do not get any easier when charismat-ic renewal is factored into the discussion. On one hand, there is no denying that charismat-ic renewal across the Protestant spectrum has played an instrumental role in the last 50 years in promoting ecumenical goodwill and collaboration. If ecumenical meetings can go only so far toward bridging doctrinal gaps between confessions and denominations, then the renewal has provided a common spiritual-ity of scriptural reading, praise and worship, charismatic gifts, and personal and congre-gational reinvigoration that has brought Prot-estants together “in the Spirit.” This pertains not only to the “offices of renewal” that have been implemented in many of the mainline Protestant denominations, but includes the more congregational churches and networks bound together in the Spirit with others in-cluding mainline churches.

It might be counterargued that charismatic renewal has subordinated doctrinal confes-sion, which has contributed to an emerging post-denominational landscape. It’s not just that denominations might be dying or fading

away, but that a proliferating independency is dawning: individual congregations, mega-churches, seeker-churches, and others are displacing those bound by doctrinal commit-ments. Critics of the renewal are likely to iden-tify a theologically or dogmatically untethered pneuma-centric spirituality as being part of the problem. The post-denominational age is seen as part and parcel of a post-Christendom if not also post-Christian society, one open to various spiritual expressions but lacking fun-damental theological moorings. Is it ecclesial vitality for the present time or congregational chaos on the heels of renewal run amok?

ROMAN CATHOLIC CHARISMATIC RENEWAL: ECUMENICAL RICHNESS AND COMPLICATIONS?Observers both inside and outside the Roman Catholic Church have suggested that the dawn of the charismatic renewal in that communion was precipitated partially by the aggiornamento of Vatican II. Since 1967, charismatic renewal in the Catholic Church has spread around the globe. By clearly em-bracing the renewal, the Catholic Church has staved off losses to Protestantism, and Pente-costal churches in particular, but some Cath-olic scholars hypothesize that the renewal has played a crucial role in the regenerat-ing of Catholic Christianity in the majority world, especially in Latin America. In many respects, charismatic renewal has provided formal and informal ecumenical bridges for crossover and return between Roman Cath-olic, Protestant, and Pentecostal churches. To a lesser but not insignificant extent, char-ismatic renewal across the Orthodox world has spurred ecumenical interaction and built ecumenical relationships.

Catholic and Orthodox faithful do not abandon their beliefs and practices wholesale upon en-countering charismatic renewal. Pentecostal or charismatic spirituality in a Catholic or Orthodox domain is deemed compatible with Marian forms of piety, papal leadership, sacra-mental theology, and continuity with the Great Traditions of the Latin and Eastern churches. Pentecostal and evangelical charismatics with their biblicism are often confounded by charis-matic spirituality as practiced in Roman Cath-olic and Orthodox communities. Can charis-matic renewal open new doors for evangelical and ecumenical theology and mission in the twenty-first century or is it bound to merely

EVANGELICALS, PENTECOSTALS, AND CHARISMATICS: A Difficult Relationship Or Promising Convergence?Amos Yong

A difficult relationship? Indeed—if for no other reason than each of these terms is complicated, if not also contested.

To struggle with the difficulties of these re-lationships is to wrestle with the nature of the church in the twenty-first century and perhaps to discover exciting and important opportunities for Christian mission and theo-logical education today. How then do we enter into the challenges at this nexus?

EVANGELICAL/PENTECOSTAL NOMENCLATURE: WHOSE GENEALOGY, WHICH TRADITION?I will start by diving into the difficulties in the evangelical-Pentecostal relationship. Some insist that Pentecostalism is a subset of evangelicalism—especially those who under-stand the evangelical tradition’s genealogy as stretching back to the Reformation churches of the sixteenth century, including those who identify John Wesley as the “grandfather” of Pentecostalism (through the Holiness move-ment of the nineteenth century), or who view continental pietism and even Puritan revivalism as contributing to the Pentecos-tal DNA. Others say that in a more technical sense Pentecostal origins in the early twen-tieth century—whether at Azusa Street or at Topeka, Kansas, disputed among histori-ans—preceded that of the formal organization of modern (at least American) evangelicalism, particularly as initiated by the founding of the National Association of Evangelicals in 1942.

At issue are a plethora of disputed matters. How do we understand either movement, at least historically, and how are they related, if at all, in the present time? Whether Pentecos-tal believers are also or always evangelicals depends on how either is defined. How to count evangelicals and Pentecostals also may have political if not economic consequences, especially in democratic and market econom-ic contexts wherein the freedom of religion spawns also competition among churches

and religions. Would some Pentecostals wish also to be accepted as evangelicals because of the respectability that comes with such des-ignation and in order to escape the opprobri-um that still might tar the Pentecostal label? On the other hand, might some evangelicals think that the pentecostalizing and charisma-tizing nature of global Christianity renders the Pentecostal label more advantageous in at least certain contexts? And none of the preceding engages the central theological and doctrinal issues in the balance.

EVANGELICAL/PENTECOSTAL COMMITMENTS: WHAT IS AT STAKE THEOLOGICALLY?There are too many theological controver-sies to treat adequately. While few Pentecos-tals would disagree with the Bebbingtonian definition of evangelical theological com-mitment—the centrality of Jesus’ vicarious suffering for the salvation of humanity, the authority of the Bible, the necessity of a born-again conversion experience, and an evange-listic and activistic living out of the gospel—not a few evangelicals would balk at what has been called the crown jewel of Pentecostal doctrine: that speaking in tongues signals or evidences baptism in the Holy Spirit. Beyond this point there is the more important doctri-nal question concerning the Nicene confes-sion: although many Pentecostals are trini-tarian believers, a not insignificant number in the Oneness tradition reject the doctrine of the Trinity as unbiblical and tritheistic, not to mention asserting also that glossolalia evi-dences full salvation (so that those who do not speak in tongues are not fully saved).

Another way to parse these theologically contentious matters is to note that the Pen-tecostal fivefold gospel—of Jesus as savior, healer, sanctifier, Spirit-baptizer, and coming king—emerges precisely through the addition of the doctrine of Spirit baptism to the four-fold formula popular across large swaths of

Amos Yong is director of the Center for Missiological Research (CMR) and professor of theology and mission in the School of Intercul-tural Studies at Fuller. Previously he served at Regent University School of Divinity as the J. Rodman Williams Professor of Theology and as dean. He is past president of the Society for Pentecostal Studies, with wide-ranging interests in sys-tematic theology, Christian- Buddhist dialogue, theology of dis-ability, and mission. He has au-thored or edited over 30 books. Among the most recent are The Future of Evangelical Theology: Soundings from the Asian American Diaspora (IVP Academic, 2014); Renewing Christian Theology: Sys-tematics for a Global Christianity, with Jonathan A. Anderson (Baylor University Press, 2014); and The Cambridge Companion to Pentecos-talism (Cambridge University Press, 2014), coedited with Cecil M. Robeck.












Evangélico in the context of the Americas1 is a wide-reaching description that has subsumed and transcended the An-glo-American understanding of being an evangelical. Identifying oneself as an evangélico conveys an array of meanings. For one, it is “the most common term used in Spanish to refer to all Protestants.”2 At the same time, being an evangélico generally implies being Christian but not Catholic or mainline Protestant.3 In the same breath, most Latino/a Pentecostals see themselves as evangélicos and not necessarily as Protestants. Let us nuance this understanding even further. The renowned theologian José Míguez Bonino stated that during his career he was labeled as “conservative, revolutionary, Barthian, liberal, Catholic-prose-lytizer, moderate, liberationist”—but he would call himself an evangélico at the core.4 In short, although the folk-religious di-mension of evangelicalism is noticed in the historical develop-ments of Anglo-American evangelicalism, this nevertheless pales when compared to the case of the Americas.

How has Anglo-American evangelicalism influenced evangelical-ism in the Americas? Let us begin by acknowledging the fact that the Euro-American ethos of evangelicalism—which relates to the revivalist movements of the nineteenth and twentieth centu-ries and whose trends include conversionism, activism, biblicism, crucicentrism, and transdenominationalism5—has significantly influenced not only the religious tissue but also the civic, econom-ic, and political life of the Americas. The insipient-revivalist spirit of Western evangelicalism hoping to “convert the nation” expand-ed way beyond the southern borders of the United States to include the Latin American territories. A brief historical review should suffice to illustrate this claim.

The arrival of Protestantism in Latin America in the late nine-teenth and early twentieth centuries occurred during a crucial overlapping of imperial powers in the continent: the Spanish and Portuguese crowns together with the British, North Amer-ican, and French empires. In this historical juncture, Anglo-American Protestant missions were used to promote and idealize the culture, history, and progress of the United States (Westernization). This appealed to the Latin American elite in power who sought to free themselves from Catholic hegemony in order to pursue political independence. It also favored the US monopolies that had begun to acquire land and impose foreign economies in many Latin American countries. The problem lay in the generation of Protestant-evangelical mis-sionaries who most heavily influenced the bases of Latin

“This is what we mean when we say that the Bible is good to us. It is not so much that we interpret the Bible, as that the Bible interprets us in a rad-ically new and ultimately affirming way! The Bible tells us no matter how crushed we might be, that we are a royal priesthood! The Bible tells us no matter how rootless and homeless society might make us feel, that we are part of God’s own family, and of the great home that God is building. The Bible tells us, no matter whether we have green cards or not, that we are citizens of the New Je-rusalem. Thus, when you see us walking to church early on a Sunday morning, and wonder at the loving tenderness with which we cradle our Bi-bles in our arms, know that we do this not out of some fanatical bibliolatry, but simply out of love and gratitude, because indeed the Bible has been good to us!”

+ from Justo L. Gonzáles in Santa Biblia: The Bible Through Hispanic Eyes. Organizers of the 40th anniversary of Fuller’s Centro Latino welcomed Cuban American historian and theologian González as special guest. He is a leading voice in Hispanic theology, known for his ecumenical work unifying churches of different denominations. Videos of the 40th celebration can be seen online.

American evangelicalism. They brought with them a series of political, theological, and cultural upheavals, that included a sense of manifest destiny, a fundamentalist versus liberal divide, and dispensationalist biblical hermeneutics. This led to a separatist vision in Latin America’s evangelical imagination regarding church and culture and church and politics. From that point on, the bulk of evangelical Christianity in Latin America manifested a Christian culture that was apolitical, pseudo-monastic, escapist, and apocalyptic.6

Having said all the above, we now face a new form of Latin American/Latino evangelicalism rapidly growing and going global. The new evangélicos, mostly from neo-Pentecostal churches, have subsumed and transcended the Anglo-Ameri-can evangelical legacy by promoting their own agenda: reviv-alist worship, contemporary hymnody, prosperity gospel, transnational/multinational churches, mission-branding, and so forth. Interestingly, the missiological shift that took place in global Christianity, which moved the center of Christianity from the North Atlantic to the Global South, has facilitated a Latin American’s sense of manifest destiny. The notable words of Josiah Strong that illustrated the manifest destiny ideology of the missionary enterprise have been subsumed and redirected:

Does it not look as if God were not only prepar-ing in our Anglo-Saxon civilization the die with which to stamp the peoples of the earth, but as if he were also massing behind that die the mighty power with which to press it? 7

At the current time, the Latin American evangelical church, mostly in the hands of megachurch/multinational neo-Pente-costal leaders, spells out the mission enterprise in similar tones: God has chosen the evangélicos of the Americas to es-tablish the kingdom of God to the ends of the earth. To prove this point one only need count how many Latino/a churches in the United States, Canada, and Southern Europe have been planted and led by immigrants coming from Latin American evangelical churches, and how many Latino/a pastors con-struct their ministries after Latin American mega-church/multinational models.

A question remains crucial for evangelicalism in general: to what degree does the emerging Latino/a evangelicalism con-tinue to build on the colonialist-imperial legacy that informs



1. “The Americas” refers here to Latin America, the Span-ish-speaking Caribbean countries, and the Latino/a diaspora in the United States and Canada. 2. Juan Francisco Martínez, Protestantes: An Introduction to Latino Protestantism in the United States (Santa Barbara, CA: Praeger, 2011), 5.3. See Lee M. Penyak and Walter J. Petry, Religion in Latin America: A Documentary History (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2006), 203.4. See José Míguez Bonino, Faces of Latin American Protes-tantism: 1993 Carnahan Lectures (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), chap. 1.5. See David Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989); George M. Marsden, Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991). See in addition, Larry Eskridge, “Defining Evangelicalism,” Wheaton College: Institute for the Study of American Evangelicals, (accessed 12/11/14).6. Apolitical refers here to a religious attitude of non- involvement with politics on the side of the subjects of the Anglo-American missions. It was expected that the new dis-ciples would keep away from national dirty politics. It goes without saying that the US was portrayed as the exceptional nation with the political vocation of doing “benevolent im-perial” maneuverings (Martin Marty, Righteous Empire: The Protestant Experience in America, 1970).7. Josiah Strong, Our Country: Its Possible Future and its Present Crisis (New York: Baker & Taylor, 1885), 161–65.

initiate new orthodoxies that find themselves finally bereft of the Spirit?

GLOBAL CHARISMATICISM: RENEWAL OR FRAGMENTATION?If world Christianity in its Catholic, Prot-estant, and evangelical forms is expanding because of pentecostalizing and charisma-tizing trends in their midst, as many social scientists and demographers suggest, what of the potential of Pentecostal spirituality to empower Christian mission and forge new evangelical pathways for ecumenical part-nership? Networks of churches and coali-tions are emerging that are united not by any confessional stance but by a spirituality and piety that is practically—if not by intentional self-identification—Pentecostal or charis-matic. Thus have not a few scholars urged usage of pentecostal less as a noun (referring to a denominational or formal type of church) than as an adjective, as descriptive of a type of Christianity more conducive to the dynamic, globalizing, and pluralistic third millennium.

Yet if such a Pentecostal or charismatic label might well be embraced by those who nevertheless accept the Nicene or Apostles’ creed, there are challenges with the Oneness segment. Further, in the majority world, the emergence of indigenous and independent churches that are often charismatic in ori-entation—believing in and practicing the full range of the spiritual gifts—complicates any typology since these are often decidedly anti-creedal. There is intense debate about whether their ways of life are expressions of theological inculturation (positively under-stood in terms of how the gospel is contextual-ized in local idiom) or mistaken developments of religious syncretism (negatively viewed in terms of how the gospel is accommodated and compromised by synthesis with native elements). In these contexts, the question of discernment of spirits is profoundly import-ant: when is “contextualization” the work of the Spirit of Christ and of God and when is it inappropriate entanglement with other reli-gious, cultural, or spiritual realities?

EVANGELICAL-PENTECOSTAL-CHARISMATIC FULLER? As one of the leading evangelical-ecumenical institutions of theological education over the last half century, Fuller has been no strang-er to many of these discussions and debates. Though firmly planted in the Reformed tra-dition, the seminary has always been open to students from both evangelical and ecumen-ical traditions. Over the last generation, there

has been a steady increase in Pentecostal and charismatic faculty members. In the mid-1980s, the C. Peter Wagner and John Wimber Signs and Wonders course was controversial and did not end as well as might have been hoped. Even then, Fuller must be applauded for being willing to raise the questions, engage the issues, and explore what was or is at stake.

In some important respects, the signs and wonders initiative was ahead of its time, but provides us with valuable perspective for observing the road ahead 30 years later. The demographics for Christianity are changing, not only through the further “browning” of the church in North America but through the shifting of its center of gravity from the Euro-American West to the Global South. In this fluid context, there is no question that Pentecostal and charismatic churches, congre-gations, and networks are at the vanguard of the world Christian movement. Fuller is well-poised historically, with the faculty leadership to theologically engage Pentecostal/charismat-ic realities with the evangelical-ecumenical tradition broadly understood.

If seminaries are supposed to build up the church, then Fuller is in a good place to serve the global church in which Pentecostal and charismatic currents are looking not neces-sarily to develop sectarian identities but to connect with the broader Christian tradition. In this scenario, Fuller can lead the church catholic in important conversations bridging these various movements. On the one hand, such discussions will strengthen ecclesial identities as they seek to understand them-selves theologically; on the other hand, Fuller offers the opportunity for particularity to map onto catholicity, bringing churches from across the Christian spectrum into solidari-ty with others. Such a shift is imperative for Christian renewal in the twenty-first century.

Ecclesial revitalization can only empower Christian mission. Christian mission is carried out not generically by “Christians” in the abstract but by specific Christians shaped by particular traditions of beliefs and practic-es. Yet what has hindered Christian witness is precisely the fragmentation of the church. Seminary education can invigorate Christian mission by nurturing the witness of specific churches while also enabling such to go forth as representative of the one body of Christ and the one fellowship of the Holy Spirit. Fuller’s ecumenical faculty can reach deep into eccle-sial tradition to cultivate a unity of witness,

even as Fuller’s globally attuned faculty can draw from the resources of the church cath-olic to enable a diversified but harmonious Christian mission in a pluralistic world.

Beyond renewing the church and empower-ing its mission, theological seminaries have also always been at the forefront of enabling self-critical reflection on Christian self-un-derstanding in ever-changing times and

contexts. How might faithful and yet creative Christian theologizing proceed in the twen-ty-first century? It is precisely Fuller’s evan-gelical-ecumenical identity that can nurture substantive interaction and engagement with the burgeoning Pentecostal/charismatic world in order to revitalize the Christian theo-logical tradition as a whole. Such will involve both a recovery of the depths of the great ecumenical (Roman Catholic and Orthodox)

traditions that emphasize God as Creator and a retrieval of the magisterial Reformation traditions that lift up Christ as Redeemer. This will foster faithful and yet contextually constructive theological self-understanding with Pentecostal/charismatic movements and their focus on the Holy Spirit as sancti-fying empowerer in today’s post-Western, postmodern, and postcolonial world.

many of the most important theological propositions and mission practices of Anglo-American evangelicalism? This question is open to debate—a debate we must cope with as evangelicals in both the Global South and North.

+ OSCAR GARCÍA- JOHNSON is assistant professor of systematic theology and Latino/a studies in Fuller’s School of Theology.


denominational ties, Christian individuals in a consumer society flocked to evangelical megachurches of the 1980s. More responsive to the seeker than their traditional forebears, these evangelical institutions created spir-itual products and activities designed for individual consumption.

Throughout their history, evangelicals initi-ated a broad range of practices, intentionally outside institutional controls. Late-modern culture provided a space for the widespread practice of individual Bible reading, prayer groups, preaching and revival meetings, ac-countability groups, mission societies, radio and television evangelism, and worship music. Evangelicals created colleges, seminaries, college ministries, and maga-zines—not to mention new churches and movements—most outside the jurisdiction of existing power structures.

Evangelical movements, with their clarion call for individual action, evolved into larger institutions, which eventually impinged on the freedoms of the individual members of the organization a generation or two later. These institutions would then be character-ized as less vibrant than their origins, and thus would become candidates for renewal. The evangelical call for a removal of con-straints to individual action and enablement of gospel action would be sounded again.

THE BIRTH OF EMERGENCE CULTUREWith the birth of the Network Society and the rise of interactive web practices in the twenty-first century, Western culture shifted once again, this time from a consumer par-adigm into a culture of participation. Par-ticipatory culture transforms consumption activities into production activities, as former consumers become cultural producers, re-mixing consumed media products into new configurations and products.

Participatory culture is not a post-individual culture—the individual is still a choosing crea-ture free of ascriptive ties. But these individu-als are choosing to immerse themselves into a deeply communal and participatory world. It is not an isolated, lonely “me,” but the deeply “connected me”1 that dwells in this new world of connectedness and participation.

One way to characterize the culture of par-ticipation is within a larger rubric spanning science, systems theory, and philosophy within the rubric of emergence. Through

this paradigm, new forms of cultural life emerge. Emergent religion is character-ized by a focus on deinstitutionalization, community, plurality, social justice, the embrace of material reality, the sacraliza-tion of all of life, an embrace of science, and innovative appropriations of tradition.2 Emergence Christianity, a subset of both Emergence culture and religion, respec-tively, began with Azusa Street in 1906 Los Angeles,3 according to Phyllis Tickle. Led by uneducated preachers, many barriers were crossed, including racial, economic, age, gender, cultural, and denominational. A few years later, when Walter Rauschen-bush introduced the social gospel, a social justice component was added to the early characteristics of emergence. With the birth of the Taizé movement in 1943, all the com-ponents of an emergent Christianity were displayed: a deeply communal, hospitable, and ecumenical movement dedicated to global peace and justice, expressed within an incarnational, neo-monastic aesthet-ic. Before the midpoint of the twentieth century, Tickle writes, Emergence Christi-anity had revealed its form.4

With the increased agency of the Western individual, combined with a deep suspicion of institutions, these organic movements at the margins of Christianity may become the primary Western expression of faith in the twenty-first century. It is most clear, in the West, that Christian institutions will cease to dominate as they did in Christendom. A deinstitutionalized church, beyond the de-nomination and the congregation, seems to be the future of the Western church.

TOWARD AN EVANGELICAL EMERGENCEIn early modernity, societal commitments governed how people formed their way of life. Evangelicals internalized the modern innovations of the Reformation and contex-tualized those forms into the late modern culture of individualism. In participatory culture, where all citizens are individual-ized—i.e., people are choosers, free of all ascriptive ties and anti-institutional in dispo-sition—what is the role for evangelical faith? How might evangelicals continue their work in yet another culture where high levels of personal agency abound?

Evangelical megachurches, designed for the individual spectator, no longer serve as com-pelling options for participatory individuals in emerging cultures. A participatory indi-

vidual desires to produce, interact, reveal, and upload their creations for others to ex-perience. An evangelicalism that focuses on producer or consumer paradigms will not thrive in a participatory culture.

Evangelicals would do well to bring their highly participatory entrepreneurial skills and inclinations to bear on emergence culture. The evangelical has always de-stabilized church practice—the inner call trumped those activities that seemed to per-petuate the institution rather than personal spirituality. Through their own initiative, evangelicals take responsibility for their own spiritual life before God, reach out to neigh-bors, and start new ministries. Evangeli-cals cultivate a spiritual network of friends without regard to institutional religion. If emergence is the time for a DIY spirituality where one cobbles together spiritual life from many sources across many networks outside typical church structures—then evangeli-cals are ideally suited to serve in this context.

In regard to mission in emergence culture, I suggest that evangelicals remember their four marks5 and offer them with open hands, knowing that they will significantly morph when remixed with the receiving culture. The Emergent religious practices of dein-stitutionalization, pluralization, social pro-gressivism, and innovation (within tradition) will merge with the evangelical marks of conversion, activism, Bible, and the cross. The new synthesis will look different from either evangelicalism or emergence as the two traditions meet, embrace, and challenge one another.6

CONVERSIONEvangelicals are a people who believe in conversion. Small improvements will not do; one needs to completely redirect his or her life to God. In late modernity, the revival meeting served to facilitate the conversion of a nominally religious person into a spiritual person. Evangelicals encouraged both adult baptism and personal testimony and down-played religious affiliation. After conversion, evangelical converts were to continue in a vibrant faith; if not, they would be considered lukewarm or backslidden, and they would again be candidates for the altar call. For the evangelical in participatory culture, ongoing sanctification would be expressed through a dynamic and unceasing practice of spiritual encounter with God, often expressed in an everyday rule of life.


D o Western evangelicals have a role to play in the highly spiritual yet post-re-ligious cultures of post-Christendom?

I assert that evangelicals, because of their tireless ability to prosper outside of institu-tions within the individualized culture of the West, are well suited to serve in post-Chris-tendom—a religious and cultural epoch where spirituality without religion is the primary form of faith expression. But evan-gelicalism must morph if it is to remain true to its roots (as change agent) while making a significant impact in the newly arising cul-tures of spirituality of the West.

REFORMED EVANGELICALS IN MODERNITYWestern evangelicals look to the early “evan-gelical” Reformers for their roots. Luther’s posting of his 95 theses serves as a model for an activism that moves away from institu-tional faith and focuses on the life of the be-liever before God. Generations after Luther, the Reformation movements institutional-ized, their spiritual vitality waned, and evan-gelicals emerged to call the faithful, through tracts, Bible studies, or open-air preaching, to a vital relationship with Christ. Both the Pietist and Puritan movements stressed the need for repentance and personal conver-sion. Beginning a century later, the Wesleys, George Whitefield, Jonathan Edwards, and eventually Charles Finney continued this evangelical pattern of calling out to the nominally religious to recommit their lives to Christ.

The Reformation coincided with the birth of modernity, a culture made possible by the invention of the printing press. Modernity represented a larger shift in Western culture, from a mercantile to a capitalist economy, from fiefdoms to nation-states, from an illit-erate to a literate populace, resulting in an educated middle class. Traditional commit-ments gave way to societal commitments—

from the villager to the citizen, from the artisan to the industrial worker, and from the clansman to the soldier. Modernity needed a religion to make sense of its world, and the Reformation answered the call.

Over time in modernity, societal commit-ments yielded to Cartesian, Enlightenment, psychological, and more atomic understand-ings of the individual, giving way to the heightened responsibility of the late modern or postmodern individual. Evangelicals thrived in the culture of the individual and the values of the Enlightenment.

As personal agency increased in the modern period, so did evangelical practice. Religious affiliation might be beneficial but could never substitute for personal repentance: each person needed to convert to an entirely new of way of life. Evangelicals felt the call to individually share their understanding with others, outside the religious institution, in the home or workplace. More than homily or sermon, it was individual Bible reading that became the primary referent for evangelical life, through study or devotional reading. One’s family, community, ethnicity, gender, age, or economic status did not save; for the evangelical, each one came to Calvary alone.

Moving into the twentieth century, the producer culture that dominated moderni-ty until World War II waned in the 1960s, moving toward a more individualized and hence consumer-oriented paradigm in the 1970s. Religion in the West adopted this logic as well, and ascriptive ties to religion—i.e., a set of activities inherited from one’s parents, like language or culture—ceased in the West. Instead, all religions shared a level playing field, and churches competed as one of many spiritual options for the seeker to choose. In addition, a plethora of new spiritualities filled the religious marketplace. Freed from

Ryan Bolger joined the Fuller faculty in 2002 and is associate professor of church in contempo-rary culture in the School of Inter-cultural Studies. He teaches classes on missiology, contempo-rary culture, church planting, and church renewal.

Bolger edited Gospel after Christen-dom: New Voices, New Cultures, New Expressions (2012), convening 28 authors throughout Western culture who initiated new churches within post-Christendom. He coau-thored Emerging Churches: Creating Christian Communities in Postmod-ern Cultures (2005). His publica-tions include chapters in Phyllis Tickle: Evangelist of the Future (2013), Mass Culture (2008), Worship That Changes Lives (2008), An Emergent Manifesto of Hope (2008), and Evangelical, Ec-umenical, and Anabaptist Missiolo-gies in Conversation (2006). He has also published articles in Missiology and the ANNALS of the American Academy of Political and Social Science.













1. Lee Rainie and Barry Wellman, Networked: The New Oper-ating System (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2012), 19.2. Ryan K. Bolger and J. Shawn Landres, “Emergent Re-ligion,” in Encyclopedia of Global Religion, ed. Mark Juer-gensmeyer and Wade Clark Roof (Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2011).3. Phyllis Tickle, Emergence Christianity (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2012). See part 2: “A Long Time Coming: How Did We Get Here?” (pp. 47–104).4. Ibid.5. Recall that evangelicals are characterized by a commit-ment to an individually converted way of life, the Bible as an individual’s primary source of authority, a personal activism that seeks to share their way of life with the world, and the cross where each individual receives the life of Christ as me-diated through his life and work. Although many definitions might be given, the most widely accepted view of evangelical-ism continues to be David Bebbington’s, from Evangelicalism in Modern Britain: A History from the 1730s to the 1980s (London: Unwin Hyman, 1989), 2–17.6. This is not new; evangelical has been used as a modifier to other traditions. One might be an evangelical Orthodox, an evangelical Catholic, evangelical Anglican, or evangelical Reformed. Richard Mouw describes himself as an evangeli-cal Calvinist. Richard J. Mouw, The Smell of Sawdust: What Evangelicals Can Learn from Their Fundamentalist Heritage (Grand Rapids: Zondervan), 71–76.7. Stephen B. Bevans and Roger P. Schroeder, Prophetic Dialogue: Reflections on Christian Mission Today (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis), 2011.8. Portions of this article appeared originally in “Evangelicals on a Journey to Emergence,” by Ryan K. Bolger, in Phyllis Tickle, Evangelist of the Future, edited by Tony Jones (Para-clete Press, 2014),

ching narrative of their lives, a story that includes the cosmos, the emergence of life, the peoples of the earth, and the Hebrew and Christian traditions.

These new evangelicals would recognize the deeply contextual aspect of the Bible and the many ways groups and cultures have appro-priated Scripture through history. Evangeli-cals would receive different liturgies, creeds, symbols, rituals, and practices, often taken directly from the Bible or deeply inspired by it, as their worship. Evangelicals in emergent culture might eclectically appropriate Ortho-dox, Catholic, Protestant, and Pentecostal liturgies as biblical practices immersed in the cultures of their time and place.

Evangelicals in emergence will bring forward master narratives from the Bible—stories of liberation and redemption. The world beyond the church might be given over to slavery or patriarchy or any number of fallen structures, but the community of God must live into the coming kingdom, where differences are celebrated and overcome, all are equally valued, all have a voice and some-thing to give. This was a characteristic of the early Christian communities, and it serves as a challenge to evangelicals today.

THE CROSSThe cross invites individuals into a new life of rich abundance, but first, they must die. Each one must let go of all that does not co-incide with God’s ways, receive forgiveness, and align oneself with God’s in-breaking kingdom. It is a personal dying to all the fallen systems of the world and a living into the new reality of Christ. It is a “no” to oppression, marginalization, isolation, exclusiveness. It is a “yes” to the reign of God and the work of the Holy Spirit in the world.

LEADERSHIPThe tasks of a spiritual leader morph in a participatory context as well, but again, they resonate with historic evangelical dis-positions. The spiritual leader is first and foremost a seasoned spiritual practitioner (a disciple) before he or she is a leader. He or she must lead from the place of spiritual mastery, regardless of the level of formal ed-ucation attained. His or her authority comes from serving through an exemplary life, one that inspires others; he or she will not prescribe a life for others as much as serve as an example to them. The leaders in these spiritual communities function as spiritual

directors more than they do as managers. These leaders may not have had any formal training—in fact, education may become a liability, as formal training may lead to more religious expressions of faith—not to spiritual practices outside of institutions. Beyond the spiritual director role, the new evangelical leader may work as a facilita-tor, creating a space for volunteers to create ministry activities such as worship, small groups, or mission outreach.

Because of evangelicalism’s long history as a contextualized faith in an individualized culture, evangelicals possess a gift to offer twenty-first century communities who share many of the same characteristics. I suggest that evangelicals come with a posture of openness, offering their vibrant tradition to an emerging context of connection, holism, and participation. Through integrated prac-tices of a converted spirituality, a holistic engagement with the world, a wide sense of God’s story, and a fresh engagement with the cross, evangelicals may demonstrate a way forward in the highly spiritual but post-reli-gious culture of post-Christendom.8

Evangelicals in these new contexts would practice a material spirituality. A material spirituality embraces science and its findings in physics and biology, letting go of the long battle against science in regard to cosmic origins and evolution. A material spirituality integrates these findings into a spirituality that sees the connectedness of all things. It welcomes mystery and paradox. A material spirituality has no hatred of the body. Yoga, rest, and a healthy diet all function as spiritu-al activities. While living in an evolutionary universe, a material spirituality remains conversionist: all of reality must continue to yield to God and pursue growth to find its full expression.

ACTIVISMEvangelicals would do well to bring their activism forward into emergence culture. Evangelicals understand that what they receive in the gospel must not be kept to themselves; they have a responsibility to communicate this message to the whole world. Just as in modernity, evangelicals in participatory culture would be apostolic and start new ministries; however, unlike those in modernity, large numbers and longevity would not be a litmus test of success.

New evangelical affiliations would be guided by missional action, not membership. Evan-gelicals in participatory culture would identify with other Christians by sharing in their mission, be it serving, creation care, peacemaking, proclaiming, or justice work. Moreover, they are more likely to identify with their own group by adopting its rule of life rather than by attending church services or membership classes.

Evangelicals in emergent culture would engage public culture with a deep sense of equality and mutuality. They would dialogue with other traditions, be it within Christi-anity (ecumenism) or with other faiths or nonfaiths. They would recognize pluralism and mystery as realities and so they would understand that they see only partially as well, that ambiguity is a facet of our current reality. As such, evangelicals in emergent culture would approach others in a state of “prophetic dialogue.”7

BIBLE Evangelicals see the Bible as the basis for their faith and practice in everyday life. Cor-respondingly, evangelicals in participatory culture would see Scripture as the overar-

+ John Wesley (1703–1791), the founder of Methodism, played a leading role in the development of the Holiness and Pentecostal movements. He wrote prolifically on diverse subjects such as salvation, the power of music, and anti-slavery, and his tracts were widely distributed. In “The Character of a Methodist” he refers to the “marks” of a Methodist as loving God and loving neighbor, praying without ceasing, rejoicing always, giving thanks in everything, and desiring only to please God. At his death Wesley was considered by some the “most loved man in England.”

“By these marks, by these fruits of a living faith, do we labour to distinguish ourselves from the unbelieving world from all those whose minds or lives are not ac-cording to the Gospel of Christ. But from real Christians, of what-soever denomination they be, we earnestly desire not to be distin-guished at all, not from any who sincerely follow after what they know they have not yet attained. No: ‘Whosoever doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.’ And I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, that we be in no wise divided among ourselves. Is thy heart right, as my heart is with thine? I ask no farther question. If it be, give me thy hand.”


“After nearly six years, I stepped down as the lead pastor of a church my wife and I planted in the spring of 2008. I was relieved, heartbroken, angry, depressed, and elated all at the same time! Most of all, I was tired. Starting a new church to reach and disciple nonchurched people, in what turned out to be a horrific economy, was a journey our training in attraction-model church-planting had not prepared us for. In six years we changed locations five times. . . . While to many we did not look like a success story, we frequently reminded ourselves that we must make it our goal to be faithful and allow God to define success for us. Today, even though our church is ‘closed,’ the disciples we were able to make in six years are impacting hundreds of lives throughout Phoenix.”

“Fifty-eight years old and at a cross-roads: fearing that church planting is a young man’s game and yet feeling like God has planted a new thing in my heart that could grow into something beautiful. Is the ‘fourth quarter’ of a person’s life too late to take such a risk? Too late to go all in, gamble everything—too late to start anew? My wife DeeDee and I, with committed associate pastors and an equally coura-geous launch team, decided to go for it. We began a new church called The Bridge, the motto for which is simply ‘discovering the movement of God in our lives.’ We took a leap in a season of life where the margin for error is really narrow, and we’re church plant-ers again. Life could not be better.”

“I’m a ‘city-church-planter.’ More so, I am a Los Angeles/Pasadena church planter. I don’t really fit elsewhere. Sometimes I am asked, ‘what makes a church planter a city-planter?’ For me, it boils down to two things. First, Los Angeles releases great potential. Here you are forced to build, to enhance, to elaborate, to develop, to cultivate, and to partner with new and different people. Second, Los Angeles forces you to search spiritu-ally. This city will not allow you to sit back and be indifferent, comfortable, and blind to temptation. It will drive you to sell your soul to something. It will always create spiritual turmoil and as such, you either wrestle with it or it conquers you. I love the fight and I love how God exposes my sin through it so that I can grow and lead.”

“When I was at Fuller, my wife and I stumbled into an Anglican church and

began to discern a call to plant a church in Santa Cruz, California. After a year

of planning and praying it became clear there was a much bigger movement of God underway. Since then we’ve

teamed up with other families to plant two more churches in Asheville, North

Carolina and Austin, Texas. We’re only a few months into planting Resurrection in South Austin, and we’ve discovered

that God has been at work here long before we arrived. Throughout this

journey we’ve discovered this kind of sacramental church planting happening

all over the country.”

+ Shawn McCain [MDIV ‘11], right—in a photo taken at his Santa Cruz church—

recently planted Resurrection South Austin Church in Austin, Texas.

“The church is the primary means through which God loves the world. . . . continuing to watch and listen as the Holy Spirit shapes men and women to engage this changing American environment as a mission field, paying attention to neighbors and neighbor-hoods, to injustices and wounds, to creativity and goodness. In these emerging missional relationships we are encouraged by their continuous experiments in church formation suitable to specific contexts.”


Church Planting

+ from Starting Missional Churches: Life with God in the Neighborhood, by Mark Lau Branson, Homer L. Goddard Professor of the Ministry of the Laity, and Nicholas Warnes [MDiv ’09]

+ Robert Flores [PhD ’02], left, was president of LIFE Bible College for many years and is now lead pastor of The Bridge in Pasadena, California.

+ Brannin Pitre is senior pastor of Grace Pasadena in California. He is lead organizer for Together-LA, a conference on justice, the city, and church planting, for which Fuller is a title sponsor, and President Mark Labberton is a keynote speaker.

+ Stephen Metro [MDiv ’14] is a Fuller Arizona alumnus. Here he reflects on the struggles of ending a church plant called Emmaus Road Church and how he learned as a result to define calling and success.

+ This content is curated from resources and ongoing conversations taking place throughout the Fuller community. Check online for full videos, articles, and more resources.


“We started Northland Village Church in April 2010. We discerned a mission of creating spaces for reconciling relationships in a post-Christian, post-cynical, liberal, gay, artsy, film industry oriented part of town that was fairly de-churched. Away we went, and we had our four-year birthday last Easter. . . . When my wife’s family introduces us to their friends who attend megachurches in Dallas, the first question we always get it is, ‘How big is your church?’ We get to say, ‘Oh, about 125 people, and that is way too big.’ We always get a chuckle out of that, [but] it fits well in our context; everyone can know each other with that size. We always wonder what it means to be church if you can’t know each other. We started ‘The

Atwater Artwalk’ where we gather artists from Los Angeles and partner with local businesses in Atwater Village along a street, and we hang local art in the shop windows. We have a big competition, raise money, and give away prizes. The center of it is this: in order to submit your art, you have to say why your art tells your story. So this diverse group of people in our neighborhood get to engage one another’s stories through art, and now our worship space is covered with art from our neighborhood. Stories like this excite me.”

+ Nick Warnes [MDiv ’09] reflects on planting the Northland Village Church in Atwater Village, California.

“I was sitting in a meeting when I heard myself saying, ‘What if we planted a multi-ethnic, multisocioeconomic church right here in downtown reaching out to Skid Row residents and loft dwellers?’ There was absolute silence in the room. Then I said, ‘yeah, but that will never work,’ and everybody sort of laughed. That was it. But for some reason, that thought would never leave, and every time I shared it I started to tear up. The more Grace and I prayed, the more we felt a conviction that this is where God was leading us. Relationships among people who are different than us are critical to our mission in the city. To be missional is to create a community that embraces people from different backgrounds and to learn how to be community together. When people see these people of different backgrounds actually coming together and worshiping, there is a second take—the kingdom is proclaimed, the power of the gospel to bring people together is proclaimed—especially among the jaded loft-dweller types.”

+ Kevin Haah [MDiv ’05] tells the story of planting New City Church of LA in downtown Los Angeles, California.

“Church planting can literally kill you! Having been involved with five church plants in the past 20 years, and having been the lead planter in two of them, there have been times when I thought I wasn’t going to make it, both in a figurative and literal sense. For instance, in my church plant in Washington, DC, in one year, we lost my mom to cancer, our first child passed away, we experienced numerous spiritual attacks and major conflicts in the church, and as a result, I ended up in the ER on two occasions due to stress issues. Fortunately, God brought us through that dark time with the support of our church members, good counselors, fellow planters, and praying friends. This is the stuff you go through, and it’s part of the life of church planters. People don’t tell you that. There’s a lot of isolation, a lot of uncertainties, and at times, lots of pain. It’s a difficult road. And I’ve known many

planters who have not only quit church planting, but have left the ministry altogether. Many have experienced serious mental health issues, and some have even committed suicide. These are the real issues facing church planters. This is why my hope is that, as the director of church planting programs at Fuller, we can begin to address these serious issues and provide a place of safety, support, and healing for those engaged in this important endeavor. My hope is that in the coming years we can provide seminars, classes, and support groups for planters struggling so that they can remain faithful to their calling—because if we can keep trusting God’s sovereign grace in our darkest times as a planter, and have a good network of support, and sense that this truly is our calling, God will do amazing things in and through us for his cause and kingdom.”

+ Matthew Lee is the director of Fuller’s new Church Planting Certificate program available through the School of Intercultural Studies. Courses are taught by both faculty and experienced prac-titioners in a primarily online format that enables students to remain in ministry wherever they are, while being part of a cohort model that nurtures mutual support and sharing of experiences.

+ Nick Warnes interviewed a panel of speakers on church planting during an event at Jones Coffee in Pasadena, California, celebrating the launch of his book cowritten with Mark Lau Branson. From left to right are Nick, Tim Morey [DMin ’07], Kevin Haah, Fuller Associate Professor of Church in Contemporary culture Ryan Bolger, and Branson.

“What if we planted a

multiethnic, multisocio-economic

church right in downtown?”











“For me one of the most important aspects of loss is lament, and what it means to cry out to God. So many of the psalms that are in the Old Testament are lament psalms. There are psalms of begging for justice, there are psalms of ‘Why, God, why would you allow this to happen?’ There are psalms of ‘I’m desperately sorry’ or ‘I’m desperately afraid.’ Having that as something to turn to helps me articulate confusion or disorientation, of not knowing where God is. I can speak those words to God, shake my fists, and say, ‘this should never have happened.’ I think we can all say that: ‘this should never have happened.’ The tragedy of this, the pain that’s in the family, the pain that’s in the suspect—it should never have happened. Standing there with God is how I’ve found holy ground in that space. I trust that God is there with me and will remind me of times to pray and will also remind me of joy.”

“The promises which we hold by faith concerning a new humanity, where death is removed and where there will be no more pain and tears, no more sorrow and suffering, these promises give substance to our faith; they are not meant to be the bread we eat, the water we drink, not the medicine we take when we are sick. Nor are these promises of ultimate health and eternal life given to us so that we might despise the penultimate life, with its sorrows and sicknesses. This Christian perspective is not easy to sustain. Some lose sight of the promises altogether and sink into the present reality with a fatalism and despair which concedes all hope to the inevitable victory of sickness and death. Others grasp at the promises with spiritual and emotional fanaticism, living on the precarious edge of the miraculous and the fantastic.”

+ Cynthia Ericksson [PhD ’97], associate professor of psychology, from the trauma forum sponsored by Fuller Pasadena for commu-nity members following the murder of two friends of Fuller from the local neighborhood

+ from Ray Anderson, past professor of theology and ministry, in his book Theology, Death, and Dying

“So many things we achieve are achieved only through struggle and conflict, not in easy ways. They always seem to involve crosses. I have so longed to find somewhere in life some corner where joy is unmingled with pain. But I have never found it. Wherever I find joy, my own or other people’s, it always seems to be mingled with pain. And I find that the people I most respect are people who know the link between joy and pain. And I have found that if we will own pain and weep over it together, we also find Christ’s overflowing comfort. The bad news is that there may be no corner of reality where joy is not related to pain. The good news is that there is no corner of reality where pain cannot be transformed into overflowing joy.”



+ This content is curated from resources and ongoing conversations taking place throughout the Fuller community. Check online for full videos, articles, and more resources.

+ from John Goldingay, professor of Old Testament, in his book Walk On: Life, Loss, Trust, and Other Realities












WaitingI want to tell the flowers that bloom and surely fade,That though just slightly longer, our lives look much the same.I want to tell the ocean that our salty tears are identical,And when they flow, they pour. To stop them? Impossible. I want to tell the earth, I stand in solidarity with its pain,Waiting for our Redeemer to come, to come again.

I want to tell the trees that live before we cut them down,Our lives were equally undervalued while rooted in this town.I want to tell Mike Brown, you’re not guilty for your death,Or free Eric Garner, and say, “Take your deep breath.”I want to tell Trayvon Martin to eat a rainbow full of Skittles,Or cry with John Crawford for there was very littleHe could have done to protect himselfWhile holding a toy gun, standing in innocence at a toy shelf.I want to tell their weeping mothers that hope will make them stronger.And tell their angry fathers that their waiting is only a little longer.I want to tell America that the system was always broken.I want to tell these institutions, I will no longer be your token.I want tell the mountains that quake and vomit for releaseThat I share your gut-wrenching longing and desperation for peace.

I want to tell the church that this pain runs too deep,Yet the pain is ours while we wait, to share, to keep.As God keeps us near the cross, filled with suffering and hope,As love invites us to live, while fear whispers, “just cope.”I beg you, wait in the gift of the present and pray for days of justice to come,When we’ll have no more need for trials, when God’s loving will is done.But for now, I need to tell the sand that we are both worn down rocks;And since the clock never stops to give us room to catch up,We fade into the whispers of time, blown into chaos by the wind,Hoping for our Redeemer to come, to come again.

I want to tell our brothers who lost their wives this year,That as you long to see her, God sees your every tear.I want to tell our students who struggle with their call,Be present where you are, and try to give your all.Where you want to be, is not where you need to be,And where you need to be is here.So unwrap your thoughts and lift them out of unnecessary fear.You’ll miss living when your mind is too busy trying to defineA purpose for your life three years or even three months down the line.I want to tell all Fuller, “Yeah, sometimes it’s hard to wait.”But, Christ promises to be with us forever and always.So we must wait like the earth through clarity, confusion, wholeness, and pain,Hoping for our Redeemer to come, to come again.

+ This poem by Jeanelle Austin [MDiv ’13] was delivered in chapel on the Pasadena campus as an expression of lament. Accompanying Jeanelle’s poem is a sketch by student Eric Tai of a prayer labyrinth built of flowers. The installation at the Pasadena campus was a joint effort by the Chapel team and the Fuller Arts Collective intended to facilitate the spirit of lament and anticipation that marks the season of Advent.












“Lament is a healthy and biblical practice. We don’t want to be fearful of peoples’ pain; we want to join them in lament. In our Touchstone course, we talked about how laments are left out of worship and liturgy, and we asked students to write their own laments in formation groups. After each student shared, we had a moment of silence to hold their lament before God, and then we offered words of encouragement. When we finished, I closed us in prayer in gratitude. It felt like such holy ground; there were deep recognition and connectedness that took place. I’ve been in a lot of worship services where I walked out thinking, ‘was God there?’ The depth of the cries of their hearts in that circle—there’s no doubt to me that God was there. They expressed how the practice of lament was even therapeutic and the idea of expressing their deepest pain, anger, and frustration to God in community was surprisingly healing.”

Further ReadingA Liturgy of Grief: A Pastoral Commentary on Lamentations Leslie Allen (Baker Academic, 2011) 23 Days: A Story of Love, Death and God Francis Bridger (Darton Longman & Todd, 2005) Remembering Ann John Goldingay (Piquant Editions, 2011) When Kids Hurt: Help For Adults Navigating the Adolescent Maze Chap Clark & Steve Rabey (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2009) Hurt 2.0: The Newly Revised Inside the World of Today’s Teenagers Chap Clark (Baker Academic, 2011) The Suffering Body: Responding to the Persecution of Christians Cecil M. Robeck, Jr. & Harold D. Hunter, eds. (Paternoster, 2006) Strength and Courage for Caregivers: 30 Hope-filled Morning and Evening Reflections Terry Hargrave (Zondervan, 2008) Loving Your Parents When They Can No Longer Love You Terry Hargrave (Zondervan, 2005) The Aging Family: New Visions of Theory, Practice, and Reality Terry Hargrave & Suzanne Hanna, eds. (Brunner/Mazel, 1997) Finishing Well: Aging and Reparation in the Intergenerational Family Terry Hargrave & William Anderson (Brunner/Mazel, 1992) Depression: Coping and Caring Archibald Hart (Cope Publications, 1981) Depression: Help for Those Who Hurt Archibald Hart (Focus on the Family, 1991) Coping with Depression (2nd ed.) Siang-Yang Tan and John Ortberg (Baker, 2004)

+ Christian Drez [MAT ’06], is the director of staff spiritual for-mation at Fuller Pasadena in the new Vocation and Formation department. He serves as a small group leader and mentor in the recently redesigned curriculum, a key component of which is small group mentoring to help students learn spiritual practices and to process what they are learning in their larger classes.

“Jesus had seen that only those who mourn will be comfort-ed (Matt. 5:4). Only those who embrace the reality of death will receive the new life. Implicit in his statement is that those who do not mourn will not be comforted and those who do not face the endings will not receive the begin-nings. The alternative community knows it need not engage in deception. It can stand in solidarity with the dying, for those are the ones who hope. Jeremiah, faithful to Moses, understood what numb people will never know, that only grievers can experience their experiences and move on. I used to think it curious that when having to quote Scripture on demand someone would inevitably say, ‘Jesus wept.’ But now I understand. Jesus knew what we numb ones must always learn again: (a) that weeping must be real because endings are real and (b) that weeping permits newness. His weeping permits the kingdom to come.”

“Out of our experience of God’s faithfulness, we learn how to be faithful to one another in our willingness to be present with all our vulnerabilities. Our presence to one another mediates God’s presence to us. The abiding certainty of God’s presence is not and cannot be a substi-tute for our presence—being the face of God to each other.

God’s compassionate presence is mediated in the caring presence of God’s people. Just as we know that nothing—pain, suffering, even death—can separate us from the compassionate love of God, so we stubbornly refuse to let anything intervene in our presence with those who suffer.”

“Jesus still puts himself into the shoes of anyone who suffers. If you want to know who the vicar of Christ is, find yourself a hurting human being in your neighborhood. Jesus is found where people are putting up with things they want to go away, trying to cope when everything is all wrong. He is represented on earth by the wounded. He is not among them as a visitor, not even as a comforting friend. He is one of them; he is any or all of them. Talk about transference of one’s identity; in his mind, Jesus becomes the human sufferer. Jesus points to suffering people and says, ‘There I am.’ He says it because he feels it. He feels their hurt and, in the sharing of pain, equates the sufferer with himself. Jesus is your hurting neighbor. He is your hurting child. He is your hurting enemy. He is anyone who is suffering from anything not of his or her own choosing. If you feel the hurts of any person who hurts, you are suffering with Jesus.”

+ from Walter Brueggemann, in The Prophetic Imagination. Brueg-gemann will be the featured speaker at the annual Fuller Forum in 2015. Visit online for details.

+ from Lewis Smedes, past Fuller professor of theology and ethics, in How Can It Be All Right When Everything Is All Wrong?

+ from David Augsburger, past senior professor of pastoral care and counseling, from his baccalaureate sermon in 2012


What role can dialogue play in reshaping identity with re-

gard to the Other—whether it be crossing religious, ethno-

religious, or ethnic lines? Instead of being permanently

locked in war memories, injustices, or historically ascribed

identities as one’s only association with the Other, a dialog-

ical encounter can form new relational memories that can

birth fresh possibilities for communal flourishing.

The most relevant dialogue between followers of world

religions is a sharing of the good things, the spiritual rich-

ness of each religion. The basis of interreligious dialogue is

the recognition of what is true and holy in world religions.

Dialogue is a means of recognizing the spiritual and moral

values and the preservation of those good things found in

the followers of world religions. To recognize, preserve, and

promote the good things of each religion is the future task I

see for interreligious dialogue.

There are times when dialogue needs to be the order of the

day—when we are in situations where we cannot preach

openly, when the best thing to do is to show our concern

for people by learning their language and culture, by

letting ourselves be nourished by the ancient wisdom of

their spirituality. But there are other times when we must

speak a word of prophecy—when people who have become

fascinated by our joy in Christ ask us to tell them more,

when in dialogue we share our innermost convictions, when

a situation of injustice impels us to denounce the evil that

is keeping people in a dehumanized state. The practice

of mission is a continuum, with dialogue on one side and

prophecy on the other. Only the context, only the situation,

can tell us when dialogue is more in order than prophecy,

or when prophecy emerges out of dialogue.

I had come to the mosque with an interfaith group of

students from the Orthodox Faculty in Belgrade, Serbia,

several Catholics from Osijek, Croatia, some Muslims from

Bosnia, and Protestants from Osijek. I asked the Imam if

he would melodically pray for us in Arabic. He smiled, then

paused, and said, “I will gladly, if you will pray, my dear

sister, as well.” I was shocked and suddenly overwhelmed

by a strange feeling of happiness. I heard myself praying

inside, “Oh Lord, You guide me!,” and responded loudly: “I

will, if my Orthodox brothers and sisters pray as well.” They

were silent for a moment, then started whispering between

themselves and replied: “Can we sing, an Easter song, for

Christ? And then pray? But only if our Catholic brothers

pray too.” The Catholics smilingly nodded and suddenly,

the small mosque was filled with four different prayers.

. . . It was amazing.

In order for the dialogue to be meaningful, it takes both

commitment to one’s own beliefs and openness to listen

carefully to the Other. A true dialogue does not mean giving

up one’s truth claims but rather entails patient and pains-

taking investigation of real differences and similarities.

The purpose of the dialogue is not necessarily to soften

the differences among religions but rather to clarify both

similarities and differences as well as issues of potential

convergence and impasse. A successful, fruitful dialogue

often ends up in mutual affirmation of differences, differ-

ent viewpoints, and varying interpretations.

Of course, interfaith dialogue remains of critical importance.

Our Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, and Jewish friends have

much to teach us. More than that, if we don’t understand

their beliefs, values, hopes, and fears, how will we ever

make the gospel intelligible to them? At the same time, we

must also listen carefully to Christian converts from these

religions. They have much to teach us too. Their beliefs may

grate against our sensibilities, or challenge our deeply held

assumptions. But, perhaps, that’s exactly the reason we

ought to pay even greater attention to what they have to say.

In an interview I did with evangelical leaders in the region

concerning [contemporary issues in the Balkans], the vast

majority asserted that one of the most effective principles

of witnessing to Muslims is the fact that, in contrast to the

traditional mainline confessions such as Catholicism or Or-

thodoxy, the evangelical movement is transnational. In the

face of growing nationalism and ethnophyletism (the combi-

nation of church and state) in the countries of the region, it

becomes increasingly obvious that overcoming such forces

is essential for the development of Christian witness.

What a person reads about Judaism from a book (or on the

Internet) . . . should be considered secondary or background

information when dialoguing with a Jew. That is to say, my

Jewish friend and dialogue partner teaches me about his or

her Judaism. This kind of experiential learning and exchange

cannot simply be codified in books nor acquired in the acade-

my alone. We need to hold together both of these aspects—of

learning about other religions through books and research

and from encounters with specific religious “others”—if our

approaches to interfaith dialogue are to take into account the

complexities of the religious experience of others.

The challenge of being a faithful public Christian in a

twenty-first-century Western context is to be able to

balance cooperation with people of other religious traditions

with a commitment to the truth—the exclusive truth of

the gospel of Jesus Christ. I do not use the word challenge

lightly. Balancing cooperation and commitment is not a par-

ticularly easy task. But it is what we are called to do and be.

LUKE 10:25–28










“Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal

life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ He answered, ‘You

shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength,

and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.’And he said to him, ‘You have given the right

answer; do this, and you will live.”

+ These quotes are from the Spring and Fall 2014 issues of Evangelical Interfaith Dialogue Journal and from the Fall 2010 Theology News & Notes on “Fuller in Dialogue: Engaging the ‘Other’ with Civility.” The full texts are available online.

“It is our hope that evangelicals will soon come to see these two obligations—mission and interfaith engagement—not as mutual-ly exclusive but rather as an opportunity to embody a holistic witness that bridges reli-gious divides for the sake of ‘loving our re-ligious neighbor as ourselves,’ through con-versation, cooperation, and proclamation.”


Interfaith Dialogue

+ from Matthew J. Krabill [MAT ’10], coeditor, Evangelical Interfaith Dialogue Journal [EIFD]. The journal creates space for evangelical scholars and practitioners to dialogue about dynamics, challenges, practices, and theology around inter-faith work while remaining faithful to the gospel of Jesus and his mission for the church.

at left: Whirling Dervishes are a part of Sufism, a devotional/mystical sect of Islam. This photo was taken at the Fes Festival of World Sacred Music in Fes, Morocco.

+ This content is curated from resources and ongoing conversations taking place throughout the Fuller community. Check online for full videos, articles, and more resources.












“It’s important that all dialogue with persons of other reli-gious groups not be merely a strategy for evangelism. We mustn’t set these relationships up in such a way that our efforts will be a failure if the relationships don’t develop into evangelical opportunities. . . . One need not be a ‘relativistic dialoguer’ to want Muslim children to be free from harassment as they walk to school. Christians ought to care about these things, quite apart from questions about evangelistic opportunities. Whether the persecuted people are Buddhists in Vietnam or the Bahai sect in Iran or Jews in Poland or Baptists in Cuba, we need to speak out against injustice and oppression. And interreligious dialog can often help us gain the appropriate information and sensitivities.”

+ from Richard J. Mouw, Fuller professor of faith and public life and past president of Fuller, in his classic text Uncommon Decency: Christian Civility in an Uncivil World

“I have lived with the Muslim community in the Parisian suburbs for decades. I have experienced detention and in-teracted with conflicts in some neighborhoods; I have seen the despair and the ghettoization. I have also experienced strong and genuine relationships with Muslims who have expressed so much care and hospitality toward me that I was sometimes ashamed that Christians were not attending to them with similar generosity. To me, neighborly love is necessary to address the tough issues: the lack of justice, freedom of religion, social conflict, religious dissonance, and acts of terrorism. God chose the way of love and the way of entering into relationship with us through Christ in order to address these very same challenges. His example reveals that love is not limited to words—it should also be experienced in real relationships, with ups and downs and patient negotiations. This love is not afraid of conflicts that are naturally embedded in human relationships.”

+ from Evelyne A. Reisacher, associate professor of Islamic studies and intercultural relations, in her speech “Uniqueness of Christ and Muslims in Europe” at the Lausanne European leaders meet-ing in Switzerland, 2014

“A renewal process and reconfiguration is occurring wherein long, historical and common roots, both musical and liturgical, are engendering a revival of heritage that addresses contemporary realities among highly religious peoples. Where barriers between people have come to exist, they are being torn asunder through musical perfor-mance of common musical spaces that allow them to come together in new ways. Music events provide a safe space and liminal moments for people who have been enemies to find something in common. As the music proceeds into this affective emotional space, you get new synapses, and you start to see your enemy as your neighbor.”

+ from Roberta King, associate professor of communication and ethnomusicology, in the introduction to her documentary and book project [un]Common Sounds. She is pictured at right with musicians from the Songs of Divine Love: An Islamic/Christian Spiritual Concert held at the Songs of Peace and Reconciliation Beirut Colloquium in Lebanon, 2009.

Further ReadingAn Introduction to the Theology of Religions: Biblical, Historical & Contemporary Perspectives Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen (IVP Academic, 2013) Muslims and Christians on the Emmaus Road J. Dudley Woodberry (MARC Publications, 1989) (un)Common Sounds: Songs of Peace and Reconciliation among Muslims and Christians Roberta King (Cascade Books, 2014) Resources for Peacemaking in Muslim-Christian Relations: Contributions from the Conflict Transformation Project J. Dudley Woodberry, ed. (Fuller Seminary Press, 2006) Israel’s Messiah and the People of God: A Vision for Messianic Jewish Covenant Fidelity Mark Kinzer and Jennifer Rosner, eds. (Wipf and Stock, 2011). Senses of Devotion: Interfaith Aesthetics in Buddhist and Muslim Communities William Dyrness (Cascade Books 2013)

Available Classes Music, Peacebuilding, and Interfaith Dialogue with Roberta King Christian Engagement with People of Other Faiths with Diane Obenchain World Religions, Art, and Symbol with Evelyn Reisacher Introduction to Islam with Martin Accad Models of Witness in Muslim Contexts with J. J. Travis

“A Christian who participates in dialogue with people of other faiths will do so on the basis of his faith. The presup-positions which shape his thinking will be those which he draws from the Gospel. This must be quite explicit. He cannot agree that the position of final authority can be taken by anything other than the Gospel—either by a philosophical system, or by mystical experience, or by the requirements of national and global unity. Confessing Christ—incarnate, crucified and risen—as the true light and the true life, he cannot accept any other alleged au-thority as having right of way over this. . . . Jesus is— for the believer—the source from whom his understanding of the totality of experience is drawn and therefore the criterion by which other ways of understanding are judged.”

+ from Lesslie Newbigin in The Basis, Purpose and Manner of

Inter-Faith Dialogue. He was the focus of Fuller’s 2014 Annual Missiology Lectures hosted by the School of Intercultural Studies and dean Scott W. Sunquist, at right. Lectures available online.

“Love is not afraid of conflicts.”


the Triune Center: Essays in Honor of Stanley J. Grenz, ed. J. Sexton (Pickwick, 2014). J. R. DANIEL KIRK, with S. L. Young, “‘I Will Set His Hand to the Sea’: The Relevance of Ps 88:26 to Debates about Christology in Mark,” Journal of Biblical Literature 133 (2014): 333–40. SARAH S. SCHNITKER, with J. T. Westbrook, “Do Good Things Come to Those Who Wait? Patience Interventions to Improve Well-Being,” in The Wiley Blackwell Handbook of Positive Psychological Interventions, ed. A. C. Parks and S. M. Schueller, 155–67 (Wiley-Blackwell, 2014). DAVID SCOTT, “Health Missions to Children in Crisis: Theological Contributions for Better Practice,” in Health, Healing, and Shalom: Frontiers and Challenges for Christian Healthcare Missions, ed. B. Myers, E. Dufault-Hunter, and I. Voss (William Carey, 2014). WILBERT R. SHENK, History of the American Society of Missiology, 1973–2013 (Institute of Mennonite Studies, 2014); and “The Theological Impulse of Evangelical Expansion,” in Global Evangelicalism: Theology, History, and Culture in Regional Perspective, ed. D. M. Lewis and R. V. Pierard, 38–59 (IVP Academic, 2014). BRAD D. STRAWN, with R. Barness, “Playing Our Cards Face Up: The Positive Power of Acknowledging Sexual Arousal within the Therapeutic Setting,” Journal of Psychology and Christianity 33 (2014): 227–39. SCOTT SUNQUIST, “Asia,” in Global Evangelicalism: Theology, History and Culture in Regional Perspective, ed. D. M. Lewis and R. V. Pierard (IVP Academic, 2014). SIANG-YANG TAN, with R. H. Barton, D. J. Chandler, J. TenElshof, and J. C. Wilhoit,

“Spiritual Formation in the Church,” Journal of Spiritual Formation & Soul Care 7 (2014): 292–311. W. DAVID O. TAYLOR, “Spirit and Beauty: A Reappraisal,” Christian Scholars Review 44 (2014): 45–60; and “Twelve Features of a Scriptural Imagination,” Comment, November 20, 2014. KENNETH T. WANG, with F. Li, Y. Wang, E. N. Hunt, G. C. Yan, and D. E. Currey, “The International Friendly Campus Scale: Development and Psychometric Evaluation,” International Journal of Intercultural Relations 42 (2014): 118–28; and, with A. J. Castro and Y. L. Cunning-ham, “Are Perfectionism, Individualism, and Racial Color-Blindness Associated with Less Cultural Sensitivity? Exploring Diversity Awareness in White Prospective Teachers,” Journal of Diversity in Higher Education 7 (2014): 211–25. AMOS YONG, “The Im/Migrant Spirit: De/Constructing a Pentecostal Theology of Migration,” in Theology and Migration in World Chris-tianity: Contextual Perspectives, vol. 2: Theology of Migration in the Abrahamic Religions, ed. P. C. Phan and E. Padilla, Christianities of the World 2 (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014), 133–51; and “The Holy Spirit and the Christian University: The Renewal of Evangelical Higher Education,” in Christian Scholarship in the Twenty-First Century: Prospects and Perils, ed. Gregg ten Elshoff, T. Crisp, and S. L. Porter, 163–80 (Eerdmans, 2014). STEPHEN E. YOUNG, “The ‘Son of Man’ in Johannine Eschatology,” in Fire in My Soul: Essays on Pauline Soteriology and the Gospels in Honor of Seyoon Kim, ed. S. B. Choi, J. K. Hwang, and M. Lee, 212–30 (Wipf & Stock, 2014).


A Theological Approach to the Old Testament: Major Themes and New Testament Connections Leslie Allen (Cascade Books, 2014)

Deviant Calvinism: Broadening Reformed Theology Oliver D. Crisp (Fortress, 2014)

Advancing Trinitarian Theology: Explorations in Constructive Dogmatics Oliver D. Crisp and Fred Sanders, eds. (Zondervan Academic, 2014)

Health, Healing, and Shalom: Frontiers and Challenges for Christian Healthcare Missions Bryant Myers, Erin Dufault-Hunter, and Isaac Voss, eds. (William Carey Library, 2014)

Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Songs for Everyone John Goldingay (Westminster John Knox, 2014)

Cognitive Linguistic Explorations in Biblical Studies Joel B. Green and Bonnie G. Howe, eds. (Walter de Gruyter, 2014)

Hidden Riches: A Sourcebook for the Comparative Study of the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East Christopher B. Hays (Westminster John Knox, 2014)

ALEXIS D. ABERNETHY, RICHARD L. GORSUCH, WARREN S. BROWN, with L. K. Christman, “Intrinsic Religiousness as a Mediator between Fatalism and Cancer-Specific Fear: Clarifying the Role of Fear in Prostate Cancer Screening,” Journal of Religion and Health 53 (2014): 760–72. JUSTIN L. BARRETT, with T. S. Greenway, “Big Gods Can Get in Your Head,” Religion, Brain, and Behavior (advance online publication July 2014). WARREN S. BROWN, with Roger L. Erickson, Lynn K. Paul, “Verbal Learning and Memory in Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum,” Neuropsychologia 60 (2014): 121–30; and, with M. A. Jeeves, Chinese translation of Neuro-science, Psychology and Religion: Illusions, Delusions, and Realities about Human Nature: (Education Science Publishing House, 2014). OLIVER CRISP, “Jacob Arminius and Jonathan Edwards on Creation,” in Reconsidering Arminius: Reformed and Wesleyan Theology for the Church Today, ed. K. D. Stanglin, M. G. Bilby, and M. Mann (Abingdon/Kingswood Books, 2014); and “Jonathan Edwards on the Trinity,” Jonathan Edwards Studies 4 (2014): 21–41 ( ALVIN DUECK, with S.-k. Ting, “Supporting Pastoral Psychology in China: Methods and Principles,” Journal of Psychology and Theology 42 (2014): 284–92. CYNTHIA B. ERIKSSON and ALEXIS D. ABERNETHY, “Integration in Multicultural Competence and Diversity Training: Engaging Difference and Grace,” Journal of Psychology and Theology 42 (2014): 174–87. L. K. Christman; and, with J. M. Holland, J. M.

Currier, L. M. Snider, A. K. Ager, R. R. Kaiser, and W. S. Simon, “Trajectories of Spiritual Change among Expatriate Humanitarian Aid Workers: A Prospective Longitudinal Study,” Psychology of Religion and Spirituality (2014). OSCAR GARCIA-JOHNSON, “Retheologizing Las Américas: A Transoccidental Approach,” Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology 19, no. 2 (2014): 9–24. JOHN GOLDINGAY, “Asking the Bible for Answers to Questions It Does Not Ask,” in The Missionary Family, ed. D. P. Baker and R. J. Priest, 244–46 (William Carey, 2014). JOEL B. GREEN, “Good News to the Poor: A Lukan Leitmotif,” Review & Expositor 111 (2014): 173–79; “Embodying the Gospel: Two Exemplary Practices,” Journal of Spiritual Formation and Soul Care, 7 (2014): 11–21; and “Hospitality for Kids: A Lukan Perspective on Children and God’s Agenda,” in Exploring and Engaging Spirituality for Today’s Children, ed. La Verne Tolbert, 25–39 (Wipf & Stock, 2014). TODD E. JOHNSON, “Doing God’s Story: Theatre, Christian Initiation, and Being Human Together,” in Theatrical Theology: Explorations in Performing the Faith, ed. W. Vander Lugt and T. Hart, 153–77 (Cascade Books, 2014). VELI-MATTI KÄRKKÄINEN, “From a ‘Unitive’ to a ‘Plural’ Paradigm of Pneumatology: An Interim Report of the State of Spir-it(s) in Christian Theology,” Festschrift for Professor Molly Marshall: Perspectives in Religious Studies 41 (2014): 183–96; and “Divine Hospitality and Communion: A Trinitarian Theology of Equality, Justice, and Human Flourishing,” in Revisioning, Renewing, and Rediscovering

Fuller Faculty: New Books and Journal Articles

Group Work Experts Share Their Favorite Activities: A Guide to Choosing, Planning, Conducting, and Processing, Vol. 2 K. Fineran, B. Houltberg, A. Nitza, J. McCoy, and S. Roberts, eds. (Assn for Specialists in Group Work, 2014)

Fire in My Soul: Essays on Pauline Soteriology and the Gospels in Honor of Seyoon Kim Soon Bong Choi, Jin Ki Hwang, and Max J. Lee, eds.(Pickwick, 2014)

(un)Common Sounds: Songs of Peace and Reconciliation among Muslims and Christians, Art for Faith’s Sake Roberta R. King and Sooi Ling Tan, eds. (Cascade Books, 2014)

Shaping Public Theology: The Max L. Stackhouse Reader, Scott R. Paeth, E. Harold Breitenberg, and Hak Joon Lee, eds. (Eerdmans, 2014)

Living Between: A Christian Curriculum for Korean North American Youth and Teacher’s Manual Hak Joon Lee, Kevin Park, and Kil Jae Park, eds. (G2G Christian Education Center, 2014)

Called to the Life of the Mind: Some Advice for Evangelical Scholars Richard J. Mouw (Eerdmans, 2014)

The Sticky Faith Guide for Your Family: Over 100 Practical and Tested Ideas to Build Lasting Faith in Kids Kara Powell (Zondervan, 2014)

The Cambridge Companion to Pentecostalism Cecil M. Robeck Jr. and Amos Yong, eds. (Cambridge University Press, 2014)

Seeking Truth in a Postmodern Age Charles Van Engen (Kindle Direct Publications, 2014)

Renewing Christian Theology: Systematics for a Global Christianity Amos Yong (Baylor University Press, 2014)

The Future of Evangelical Theology: Soundings from the Asian American Diaspora Amos Yong (IVP Academic, 2014)

Global Diasporas and Mission, Regnum Edinburgh Centenary Series 23 Chandler H. Im and Amos Yong, eds. (Wipf & Stock/Regnum, 2014)

The Dialogical Spirit: Christian Reason and Theological Method in the Third Millennium Amos Yong (Cascade Books, 2014)

The Missiological Spirit: Christian Mission Theology for the Third Millennium Global Context, Amos Yong (Cascade Books, 2014)




Marianne Meye Thompson and

John L . Thompson

ENOCH JINSIK KIM Assistant Professor of Communication and Mission Studies Already teaching and mentoring in the School of Intercultural Studies Korean Studies program, Enoch Kim now adds to the regular faculty a professor fluent in both Korean and Chinese. His 16 years in China include work as a missionary with HOPE and Frontiers and as city director of JOY Mission in Xian, China. His writings focus on Muslims in Northwestern China and on issues for Korean missions.

JOHNNY RAMÍREZ-JOHNSON Professor of Intercultural Studies

Ramírez-Johnson describes himself as a practical theologian working at the intersection of the social sciences and theology. He has written on culture and church affairs and on the multicultural, intergenerational, and multi- language realities for North American churches in promoting not only love for Jesus but also healthy and holy lifestyles. Most recently professor of religion, psychology, and culture at Loma Linda University, he has also taught in Latin America and has evangelized and planted churches around the world.

BENJAMIN J. HOULTBERG Assistant Professor of Human Development

Houltberg’s experience and research focuses on family and parenting in relation to youth social and emotional development; on family socialization processes that shape emotion regulation and related behaviors; and on the role of emotion regulation and emotionality in youth adjustment, particu-larly in adverse circ*mstances and in promoting resilience. He comes to Fuller from Indiana University–Purdue University Fort Wayne.

JENNY H. PAK Associate Professor of Psychology

Pak comes to Fuller from Biola University’s Rosemead School of Psychology where she taught graduate-level courses in history and systems psychology, measurement and assessment, and practicum courses, and undergraduate courses on theories of personality, child and adolescent development, and psychology of marriage. Her recent publications address religious experi-ence and emotion, spiritual maturity among Korean immigrant women, and medical-caretaker fathers of children with life-threatening illnesses.

KENNETH T. WANG Associate Professor of Psychology

Adding his Taiwanese background to the School of Psychology faculty diversity, Wang comes to Fuller from the University of Missouri. His re-search focuses on perfectionism and cross-national adjustment. His clini-cal experience ranges from psychology practice at the University of Illinois Counseling Center to counseling at the National Dong-Hwa University Disability Resource Center in Taiwan.

New Fuller Faculty


풀러신학교는 신학대학원과 심리

학대학원, 선교대학원 등 3개의 대학원

과 16개 센터 및 연구소를 통해, 9개의

다른 캠퍼스에서, 19개의 학위 과정—

영어, 스페인어, 한국어 그리고 온라

인—을 제공하고 있습니다. 풀러의

여러 학위 과정에는 매년 80여개국, 110여

교단 출신의 4,100 명 이상의 학생들이

등록을 하고 있으며, 41,000 여명의 동문

들은 목회자, 상담가, 교사, 예술인, 비영

리 단체 리더, 사업가를 비롯하여 세상에

서 다양한 직업에서 하나님의 부르심에

부응하여 활약하고 있습니다.

LOCATIONS Main Campus/Pasadena Fuller Online Fuller Arizona Fuller Bay Area Fuller Colorado Fuller Northwest Fuller Orange County Fuller Sacramento Fuller Texas Fuller Atlanta (Learning Center)

LEARN MORE / 800.2Fuller

+ Don’t MissFestival of Worship, hosted by the Brehm Center February 15 Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, Los Angeles, California

“Courageous Leadership in Christian Sex/Gender Conflicts” Integration Symposium, hosted by the School of Psychology featuring Jenell Williams Paris February 18–20Pasadena campus

TogetherLA Conference on Church PlantingKeynote address from President Mark Labberton February 26–28West Angeles Church of God in Christ

An Evening with Lord Brian Griffiths hosted by the Max De Pree Center for LeadershipApril 10Pasadena campus

The Payton Lectures, featuring James K. A. Smithhosted by the School of TheologyApril 22–23Pasadena campus

The Fuller Forum, featuring Walter Brueggemann April 30–May 2Lake Avenue Church and Fuller Pasadena campus

For more:

풀러는 어떤 신학교인가?

Fuller Arizona—Phoenix

풀러신학교는 오늘날 세계에서 가장

영향력있는 복음주의 기관들 중 하나이자

가장 큰 신학교로서, 지구촌 교회 내에

서와 다양한 문화 속에서 믿음, 시민교

양, 정의를 위한 선도적 목소리가 되고

있습니다. 정통신앙에 깊이 뿌리내리고

혁신의 가지를 뻗어가는 가운데, 우리는

그리스도인 형제 자매들이 신실하고,

용기있고, 혁신적이고, 상호협력하고,

열매를 맺는 리더들이 되어 어떤 상황에

서도 예수님을 위해 폭발적인 영향력을

미칠 수 있도록 준비시키는 데 전념하고


IT WAS AFTER the candlelight prayer walk that I met Emily and her adult daughter, Shavonna. Our Pasadena seminary commu-nity had come together to try to process the fatal stabbings of Full-er friends Lawrence and Denise Bressler, which had occurred the week before in a nearby apart-ment building. We gathered on a Tuesday night to listen to Dr. Cyn-thia Eriksson explain how trauma affects us when life feels terrifying and unpredictable—and what healing looks like. The evening ended with a small group taking a candlelight prayer walk to where the murders took place, to pray for the other tenants.

Earlier that week we had post-ed flyers in the apartment building where the Bresslers lived, inviting neighbors to the vigil. Emily and Shavonna decided to come. They

told me repeatedly how grateful they were that we had invited them to the gathering. They had been living for over two years in the apartment building where the stabbing occurred, but had never set foot on Fuller’s cam-pus across the street. Shavonna told me that this tragedy in their building brought back all the pain of the murder of one of her best friends a year ago. Her mother, Emily, said that she held her 20-something daughter like a baby the night after the stabbing. “Thank you for caring about how this affected us,” they said to me. “We’ve never been to anything like this. But it really helps.” We only exchanged a few words, but it was very meaningful for me.

By Laura Harbert, Dean of Chapel and Spiritual Formation

What is Fuller? ¿Qué es Fuller? Fuller Theological Seminary is one of the world’s most influential evangelical institutions, the largest theological seminary, and a leading voice for faith, civility, and justice in the global church and wider culture. With deep roots in orthodoxy and branches in innovation, we are committed to forming Christian women and men to be faithful, courageous, innovative, collaborative, and fruitful leaders who will make an exponential impact for Jesus in any context.

Fuller offers 19 degree programs at 9 campus locations—with Spanish, Korean, and online options—through our Schools of Theology, Psychology, and Intercultural Studies, as well as 16 centers, institutes, and initiatives. More than 4,100 students from 80 countries and 110 denominations enroll in our programs annually, and our 41,000 alumni have been called to serve as ministers, counselors, teachers, artists, nonprofit leaders, businesspersons, and in a multitude of other vocations around the world.

El Seminario Teológico Fuller es una de las instituciones evangélicas más influyentes del mundo, el seminario teológico más grande, y una voz prin-cipal para la fe, la cortesía (civility en inglés) y la justicia en la iglesia global y la cultura en general. Con raíces profundas en la ortodoxia y sucursales en innovación, estamos comprometidos a formar mujeres y hombres cristianos a ser fieles, va-lientes, innovadores, colaboradores y líderes de éxito que tendrán un impacto exponencial para Jesús en cualquier contexto.

Fuller ofrece 19 programas

de estudio en 9 localidades—con opciones en Español, Coreano, y clases en línea—a través de nues-tras facultades de Teología, Sicología y Estudios Interculturales juntamente con 16 centros, institutos e iniciati-vas. Más de 4,100 estudiantes de 80 países y 110 denominaciones ingresan anualmente a nuestros programas y nuestros 41,000 ex alumnos y ex alumnas han aceptado el llamado a servir en el ministerio, la consejería, educación, las artes, en organizaciones sin fines de lucro, los negocios y una multitud de diferentes vocaciones alrededor del mundo.





LIBERTY, MO135 North Oakland AvenuePasadena, California 91182


Beginning this fall, our MDiv is available in a new online format. Combined with increased scholarship support, that means the distinguished theological formation Fuller offers is now more accessible—to more leaders, in more vocations and contexts—than ever.



STORY | THEOLOGY | VOICE FULLER · STORY | THEOLOGY | VOICE “I didn’t think I was Korean. I claimed a Peruvian identity because that’s where I was born and the place I call - [PDF Document] (2024)


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