For most of the 1990s I habitually denied I was an Evangelical. "I used to be an Evangelical," I would say, "but now I'm just a fundamentalist." Or later, "I used to be an Evangelical, but now I'm Reformed.... Yeah, I grew up in an interdenominational Evangelical church in Wheaton, but I'm no longer an Evangelical."
Of course, that was when Evangelicalism still had a center, loosely defined by a variety of parachurch organizations such as Christianity Today, Wheaton College, Campus Crusade/InterVarsity, Christian publishers, Focus on the Family....
My rejection of Evangelicalism was never a repudiation of all things evangelical. The term "evangelical" had been applied to the Reformed faith for centuries prior to Harold Ockenga's appropriation of the term to distinguish non-fundamentalist conservative Protestantism from fundamentalism in the 1930s.
The Reformed faith was "evangelical" before it was "Reformed." The Protestant Reformation was utterly evangelical in its return to the euaggelion, or gospel, of salvation by faith, not works. Luther himself claimed to be "evangelical" before the world knew him as "Reformed". Luther named the church he founded in Germany the Evangelische Kirke, or "Evangelical Church."
Within the English-speaking world, the evangelical faith in the 1600s included the Puritans, the English separatists, the Presbyterians. In the 1700s the evangelical faith included Wesley, Whitefield and Edwards: the wonder of the Great Awakening. In the 1800s evangelical faith produced the Second Great Awakening, Princeton's theology, men like Dabney, Hodge, Alexander.
All these strains fed into 20th century American Evangelicalism. By claiming no longer to be "Evangelical" I was stating my departure from the 20th century American branch of Protestantism known as "Evangelicalism," not the glorious theology of the evangelical Church of the Reformation. I was reacting against Evangelicalism's parachurch focus, its loose (and increasingly Arminian) theology, its woeful sexual ethics and theology, its pride and wealth, its celebrity culture. I considered myself Reformed, outside the orbit of Evangelicalism.
It was fairly easy to live outside Evangelicalism in the Toledo I moved to in 1988. With several exceptions (FNBS and several godly CMA churches) Evangelicalism bypassed Toledo on its trans-continental trek from Philadelphia through Wheaton to California (and back to Colorado Springs). We didn't have to worry about the increasing heterodoxy of InterVarsity nationally in Toledo. The local InterVarsity chapter died about the time I arrived. We didn't have to oppose the "Botany-Geography" seeker church scourge. Toledo didn't get a proper creek until six years ago.
I was simply Reformed. I identified more with Doug Wilson and Moscow, Idaho, than Wheaton; with Banner of Truth and Martyn Lloyd-Jones more than Tyndale House or Bill Hybels.
And now, in 2005 at age 46, for reasons I will explain shortly, I want to revisit Evangelicalism. But to my horror I find my childhood home destroyed. All Evangelicalism's children have despised her, fleeing her for Orthodoxy, for Roman Catholicism, for Anglicanism, for Willow Creeks and Cedar Hills, for Reformed churches and Lutheranism.