Beyond Bebbington: Who Is An Evangelical?
When Latter-day Saints ask me, “What is evangelicalism?” I sometimes find myself at a loss for words. I know what it’s like, I could point it out when I see it.
But to define it?
That’s where the challenge lies.
In these conversations, I’ve often relied on the Bebbington Quadrilateral to aid me, but I’ve since realized its limitations in fully describing evangelicalism.
Allow me to explain.
The Bebbi-what?
In 1989, historian David Bebbington proposed a framework for understanding evangelicalism that has since become widely influential in academic circles. Known as the Bebbington Quadrilateral (or BQ), this model identifies four key characteristics of evangelicalism:
Conversionism: The belief that lives need to be transformed through a “born-again” (see John 3) experience and a lifelong process of following Jesus.
Activism: The expression and demonstration of the gospel in missionary and social reform efforts.
Biblicism: A high regard for and obedience to the Bible as the ultimate authority.
Crucicentrism: A stress on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross as making possible the redemption of humanity.
The BQ is very authoritative to some, serving as the governing inclusion criteria for defining ‘evangelicalism.’ For example, when asking the basic question, “What is an Evangelical?” the National Association of Evangelicals points to the BQ.
While this paradigm has provided valuable insights into the nature of evangelical Christianity, it’s not without its limitations. So, defining a person, church’s, or institution’s affiliation based on the BQ isn’t necessarily gatekeeping so much as it is theological gerrymandering.
Why’s that?
The BQ has some blindspots.
Doctrine Over Practice?
The first major blindspot of the BQ model is its overemphasis on doctrine rather than practice. The quadrilateral’s focus on Biblicism and Crucicentrism primarily addresses matters of belief, while Conversionism implies a doctrinal understanding of salvation. Even Activism, which might seem to focus on action, is often interpreted through a lens of doctrinal correctness. This heavy emphasis on belief, while important, fails to adequately capture the lived experience of faith that is central to Christian life.
Jesus himself emphasized the importance of “doing” in addition to believing. In the Gospel of Matthew, He likens those who hear His words and put them into practice to a wise man who built his house on the rock (see Matthew 7:24-27). Similarly, the Epistle of James asserts that “faith without works is dead” (see James 2:26). The BQ, in its focus on doctrinal elements, neglects crucial aspects of Christian practice such as community fellowship, spiritual disciplines like prayer and fasting, and the imperative of social justice and care for the poor. These practices have been integral to the Christian experience throughout history and across denominational lines.
In short, the BQ invites the assumption that orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy, which it does not, as I’ve argued elsewhere.
Moreover, the very concept of conversionism as a “born-again experience” warrants closer examination. The reference to being “born again” in John 3 may not necessarily imply a dramatic, experiential event as often interpreted in evangelical circles. After all, who among us remembers our first birth? Who could ‘testify’ of their rebirth? Some, but not all. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Perhaps Jesus was using rebirth as an analogy for a new life lived, a transformation of perspective and behavior, rather than a singular, identifiable experience. This nuanced understanding challenges us to reconsider how we conceptualize and articulate the process of coming to faith.
What about the Trinity?
Secondly, the BQ exhibits a notable disconnection from historic Christianity. The model makes no explicit reference to the ecumenical creeds, such as the Apostles’ or Nicene Creeds, which have long served as foundational statements of Christian belief. More significantly, it lacks any clear formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity, a central tenet of Christian orthodoxy for nearly two millennia. This omission raises questions about the model’s relationship to the broader Christian tradition and its understanding of God’s nature.
The importance of historical continuity in Christian theology cannot be overstated. The role of tradition in interpreting Scripture has been a crucial safeguard against ahistorical or overly individualistic interpretations. By seeming to divorce evangelicalism from its historical roots, the BQ risks presenting a version of Christianity that is unmoored from the rich theological reflections and communal wisdom of centuries of Christian thought and practice.
For example, 19th century Unitarianism fits neatly within the BQ, but modern evangelicals would struggle to count them among their ranks, e.g., Oneness Pentecostalism.
What about the Resurrection?
Finally, the quadrilateral’s emphasis on Crucicentrism, while highlighting a crucial aspect of Christian soteriology, presents a limited view of Christ’s salvific work. The focus on Christ’s atoning death on the cross—a major theme also in LDS soteriology—fails to give due weight to the equally important event of Christ’s resurrection. The Apostle Paul emphatically states that without the resurrection, our faith is futile (see 1 Cor 15:14). The resurrection is not merely an addendum to the crucifixion but represents Christ’s victory over death and sin, with profound implications for believers’ present lives and future hope.
Moreover, this narrow focus potentially undermines a fuller understanding of salvation. The Christian concept of salvation encompasses more than just the forgiveness of sins. It includes ideas such as glorification and the already/not yet tension of the Kingdom of God in many Western traditions. By emphasizing Crucicentrism to the exclusion of these broader soteriological concepts, the BQ presents a restricted view of Christian salvation that may not resonate with the full breadth of evangelical experience and belief.
Evangelicalism: Beyond Political Association
Let me address the elephant in the article.
It’s crucial to emphasize that evangelicalism, at its core, is not inherently political.
The movement’s commitment to activism has historically manifested in various forms of social reform, often contributing significantly to societal progress. This activism stems from a deep-seated belief in applying gospel principles to address societal issues and improve the human condition.
Throughout history, evangelicals have been at the forefront of numerous social reform movements. I am proud to belong to a storied tradition that includes:
Abolitionism: Evangelical Christians like William Wilberforce in England and Charles Finney in the United States were key figures in the movement to abolish slavery.
Women’s Suffrage: Many early advocates for women’s right to vote, such as Frances Willard and Sarah Grimké, were motivated by their evangelical faith.
Child Labor Reform: Evangelicals played a significant role in campaigning against exploitative child labor practices in the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Civil Rights Movement: While not uniform in their support, many evangelicals, particularly African American evangelicals, were active participants in the fight for civil rights in the 1950s and 1960s.
Prison Reform: Evangelicals have long been involved in efforts to improve conditions in prisons and promote rehabilitation, dating back to the work of John Howard in the 18th century.
Temperance Movement: While controversial today, the temperance movement, largely driven by evangelicals, sought to address social ills associated with alcohol abuse.
Global Poverty and Health Initiatives: Evangelical organizations have been instrumental in providing aid, healthcare, and education in developing countries.
However, in living memory, evangelicalism has become increasingly associated with specific political stances, particularly in the United States. This association, which I personally regret, has often overshadowed the diverse ways in which evangelicals engage with social issues and has led to misconceptions about the nature of evangelicalism itself.
The political entanglement of evangelicalism can be traced back to the rise of the Moral Majority in the late 1970s and the subsequent alignment of many evangelical leaders with conservative political causes, especially seen in the 2016 presidency of Donald Trump. I call this moment the “Hillbilly Elegization of American Evangelicalism,” the shift in evangelical culture and politics towards a more populist, working-class identity, particularly associated with rural and Rust Belt America. But this is the odd glitch in evangelicaism’s storied history.
(V.P. Presidential candidate J.D. Vance’s 2016 memoir Hillbilly Elegy gained prominence among evangelicals for its portrayal of working-class white culture in Appalachia and the Rust Belt. Before and during the presidency of Donald Trump, evangelicals shifted focus towards issues of cultural identity, particularly those of rural and working-class white Americans.)
While these developments have significantly shaped public perception of evangelicalism, they do not define its essence or represent the full spectrum of evangelical thought and action.
Many evangelicals, myself included, are concerned about this conflation of faith and partisan politics. We believe it detracts from the core mission of evangelicalism: spreading the good news of Jesus Christ and living out His teachings in all aspects of life, including but not limited to the political sphere. We are not Christian Nationalists, and happily work against its influence as much as we work against the influence of policies that subvert the vision we believe best fosters human flourishing, from conception to grave.
This conversation is tangential to one’s evangelical identity, not part-and-parcel of it.
It’s important to recognize that evangelicals span a wide range of political views and continue to engage in social reform through various means, including non-profit organizations focused on issues like poverty, education, and healthcare; environmental stewardship initiatives; racial reconciliation efforts; international aid and development work; and advocacy for religious freedom and human rights.
While the term “evangelical” is not inherently political, it inevitably shapes an evangelical’s politics.
And that’s okay.
What I Say Instead
Given these limitations and considerations, when explaining evangelicalism, particularly to those in the Latter-day Saint tradition, I propose an alternative framework:
Transformitive Faith: Rather than emphasizing a singular “born-again experience,” this principle recognizes the ongoing process of spiritual transformation. It acknowledges that coming to faith in Jesus Christ fundamentally changes one’s worldview and way of life. This transformation may be sudden for some, gradual for others, but it always involves a reorientation of one’s life towards Christ’s teachings and example. It’s less about a momentary experience and more about a lifelong journey of growing in faith and aligning one’s life with the gospel.
Activism: The expression and demonstration of the gospel in missionary and social reform efforts. This highlights the importance of putting faith into action through evangelism, social justice, and community service, though it is not inherently political (as so many assume).
Solas: The five key theological principles of the Protestant Reformation:
Sola Scriptura (Scripture Alone): The Bible is the highest authority for faith and practice (i.e., not the Qur’an, Book of Mormon, or other religion’s holy writ).
Sola Fide (Faith Alone): Justification is received by faith alone, without works.
Sola Gratia (Grace Alone): Salvation comes by God’s grace alone, not by human merit.
Solus Christus (Christ Alone): Jesus is the sole mediator between God and humanity.
Soli Deo Gloria (To the Glory of God Alone): All things are for God’s glory.
Trinitarianism: The doctrine that God is one in essence and three in person—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This core belief connects evangelicalism to historic Christian orthodoxy and distinguishes it from non-Trinitarian groups.
This revised framework addresses several of the Bebbington Quadrilateral’s limitations. It retains the emphasis on personal conversion and active faith, while the inclusion of the Solas provides a more comprehensive doctrinal basis rooted in the Protestant Reformation. The explicit inclusion of Trinitarianism connects evangelicalism more firmly to historic Christian orthodoxy and helps distinguish it from non-Trinitarian groups that might otherwise fit the criteria.
While this alternative framework may have its own challenges and limitations, it offers a more nuanced and historically grounded definition of evangelicalism. It provides clearer points of comparison and contrast with other Christian traditions, including Mormonism, making it a useful starting point for interfaith dialogue and a more robust understanding of evangelical identity in the broader Christian landscape.
In presenting evangelicalism to others, particularly in interfaith dialogues, I strive to emphasize this broader understanding of evangelical belief and activism. The goal is to move beyond reductive political associations and highlight the multifaceted ways in which evangelicals seek to live out their faith in the public sphere, always with the aim of honoring God and serving others.
Admittedly, this revised framework invites new questions. I’m certainly not entirely sure of it, and am being vulnerable with my friends in admitting, “I’m not quite sure what an ‘evangelical’ is.”
But I’m sure of this: An evangelical is not the sum of Bebbington’s Quadrilateral, as helpful as it has been in starting the conversation.
To read a much greater thinker than I on this topic, I highly recommend Tommy Kidd’s Who Is An Evangelical?
