The Smell of Sawdust: What Evangelicals Can Learn from Their Fundamentalist Heritage

Few things today are more fashionable than a condescending dismissal of all things fundamentalist. True, there is legitimate material there, but Mouw reminds believers that there is much in that tradition for which we ought to be thankful. He should know. He grew up with impeccable fundamentalist credentials, tent meetings and all, and so he remembers the sweet smell of sawdust. Since that deeply personal heritage he has moved quite a distance and now serves as president of Fuller Theological Seminary. He is a regular participant in cutting edge religious issues with a broad and deep spectrum of conversation partners--Muslim dialogue, the Orthodox church, faith in the public arena, and so on. So, he is well placed to come full circle, from the popular sport of rejecting fundamentalism to reaffirming what is good in that tradition. Mouw quotes two people in his final chapter to explain what he is after. Paul Ricoeur once referred to what he called a "second naivete." Oliver Wendell Holmes put it this way: "I do not give a fig for the simplicity that is prior to complexity; but I would give my right arm for the simplicity that lies beyond complexity" (p. 151). It is all too easy to see things in black and white, in uncomplicated, simplistic terms. Like any movement, though, fundamentalism is far too complex for such a dismissive attitude. But when you engage all the critical questions which fundamentalism deserves, there can be no romantic return, but there can be an honest appreciation for all that is good in the movement--radical commitment to the Gospel, a commitment to the Biblical story, and a sense of wonder in God's great grace.

The author, president of Fuller Theological Seminary and former professor of philosophy is, I'm afraid, a bit of a lefty politically. His basic thesis is that, while American fundamentalism does indeed have some shortcomings (e.g. anti-intellectualism, otherworldliness, legalistic separatistism), we should appreciate its positive aspects and be very careful to preserve the baby while disposing of the bathwater. The trouble is, he believes the bathwater should include any remaining conservative/libertarian political ideas!During the 1960s, the author bought into the leftist "social justice" critique of America, believing Old Testament biblical warnings (e.g. Amos) indicated injustice in the "systems and structures" of our society. He describes how his pro-MLK Jr., pro-civil rights movement and anti-Vietnam war feelings ran against the grain of many of his evangelical associates and how he sought to "ground" his newfound moral convictions (i.e. to justify political leftism as being endorsed by Jesus, the Bible and traditional evangelical piety). Much later, he spoke to a Christian audience on these themes and was afterward confronted by a man who said "you didn't learn that stuff from the Bible - you got it from Karl Marx!" The author responded by quoting an old hymn:I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold,I'd rather have Him than riches untold;I'd rather have Jesus than houses or lands,I'd rather be true to His nail-pierced hands.He then added "Once you've learned your lessons in economics from the songs of George Beverly Shea, Karl Marx comes off as pretty tame!" Dr. Mouw apparently believes that these implications point toward a position to the left of Karl Marx himself on the political scale! This would presumably mean applying the "social justice" methods of marshalling the coercive force of government to address (in a Marxist/leftist way) these issues of "justice and peace and social righteousness and faith's implications for a life of learning." It is unclear to me why a declaration that Jesus is more important than any worldly good is somehow inconsistent with politically conservative principles like free enterprise, limited government and individual liberty or should lead to support for forced government redistribution of such goods (playing to the covetousness forbidden by the 10th commandment and in direct violation of the 8th commandment against theft).While I certainly agree that evangelicals should "develop a competent literature in every field of study," I would caution that the great temptation will be for unwary Christians, anxious to achieve cultural and scholarly "sophistication" and acknowledgement, to adopt uncritically the huge, well-developed and, at most universities, dominant, body of left-leaning academic perspective.He assumes the leftist view that the Vietnam war was bad, in principle, vs. the conservative view that it was justified, but poorly executed (due to leftist leadership). He also assumes that leftist

A very close friend, a Baptist and supporter of Fuller Seminary, lent me "The Smell of Sawdust." As an ardent Catholic, I read it with ready-to-be-offended Catholic radar. Never was. Indeed, his treatment of Fr. George Rutler was quite nice, and Rutler is a hero of mine. For professional as well as personal reasons, I like reading about the differences between Fundamentalists and Evangelicals. George Marsden's "Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Seminary and the New Evangelicalism" is also very good.

This is a great book. Although it is short, it makes some significant points about the strengths and weaknesses of the fundamentalist movement in America. Written by Richard Mouw, president of Fuller Seminary, the book draws upon Mouw's personal experiences growing up, as well as with his later evaluation of those experiences using his tools as a philosophy professor. I grew up in a liberal mainline denomination and found myself, both in college and later, drawn to the passion and committment of a more conservative faith. This books helps to explain this attraction. It is must reading for anyone 'burned' by 'fundies' or anyone who looks at fundamentalism with the smug prejudice of a pharisee.

Growing up in a mainline denomination, I was first identified as a "fundamentalist" by a lady in my church who was my Sunday School teacher when I was younger. At that time, I didn't know what a fundamentalist was. I simply believed the Bible was wholly true. Later on, I tried very hard to shed that label. I still believed the Bible, but I rejected dispensationalism, started to see that I could learn things from other streams of Christianity including (gasp!) Catholicism, and enjoyed "forbidden" pleasures like going to movies, listening to rock music, and playing cards. Richard Mouw, president of Fuller Seminary, points out that many of the values he learned growing up as a true-blue fundamentalist are nothing to be ashamed of, but rather to be appreciated. Indeed, there are many good things about fundamentalism that modern-day evangelicals can still embrace. There are some very helpful discussions included in this book. Some of the chapters deal with evangelical relationships with Catholics and Jews, the benefits of dispensationalism (many have come to Christ by reading Hal Lindsey, as much as some of us would hate to admit it), and social/political activism. The final chapter discusses "the simplicity beyond complexity", the fact that with all our theological sophistication we can still come to a place of wonder and simplicity. I, like Mouw, still would not call myself a fundamentalist, but there are still lessons to be learned from the old "sawdust trail".