Fred Kniss argues for a modified two-dimensional map in which morality is the chief criterion: moral authority and the definition of that which constitutes the moral project. So, for instance, the new poles are (under moral authority) modernism and traditionalism and (under the moral project) libertarianism and communalism. And Martin Marty himself argues for a chastened two-party model. There are still two parties, Marty insists. Public stereotypes and academic convention render this the case, despite criticism: "The 'vision' of history that needs 'revision' is more often closer to reality than are many revisionist substitutes." As for his own commitments, Marty describes himself as a "James Madison type, finding freedom and security neither in 'unum' nor 'bipartisan' or 'bipolar' life but in pluralist existence."
William Weston and D. G. Hart offer case studies of the Presbyterian controversy as counter-evidence to the two-party thesis. According to Weston, both the progressives and conservatives in the Presbyterian Church failed to win the support of the loyalist center. Many who might have been theologically sympathetic to the conservative cause were put off by what they perceived as disloyalties to denominational polity and process. Thus, the war was lost not over doctrinal differences alone, but because of tactical failures and a missed opportunity to attract the support of the loyalists. Hart demonstrates how J. Gresham Machen, the Princeton professor who led the conservative Presbyterian cause and eventually founded Westminster Seminary, defies easy categorization: "I never call myself a 'Fundamentalist,'" Machen said in 1927, although—if the alternative is modernism, he would gladly defend that cause. "But after all, what I prefer to call myself is not a 'Fundamentalist' but a 'Calvinist'—that is, an adherent to the Reformed Faith."
A two-party thesis envisions a church made up of liberals and conservatives, but these examples demonstrate the failure to account for the majority (loyalists) and for the distinctions which must be drawn between Reformed confessionalists like Machen and fundamentalists like Carl McIntyre or Bob Jones. If the two-party thesis doesn't work here—in the fundamentalist/modernist controversy—it probably doesn't work anywhere.
Several of the pieces enter their unique traditions as exhibits for the prosecution against the two-party thesis. Reformed and Lutheran confessional churches, the African American church, various Hispanic church traditions, as well as the Disciples of Christ, simply cannot be categorized by the left-right typology. For many of these churches, the fundamentalist-modernist fight was remote. Even in the mainstream "fundamentalist" movement, there were exceptions to the two-party system. The Winona Lake Bible Conferences (1895-1968), the now defunct Biblical Seminary in New York, and the missionary enterprise (including groups such as Youth for Christ and Young Life), were far more mainstream than the imposition of polar extremes would allow. They incorporated a wide cross-section of Protestant America, from the roster of speakers to denominational and institutional representation on their boards.
Taken as a whole, these examples represent the majority of American Protestants over the last century. Hardly marginal groups (as the two-party system appears to assume), their distinctive contributions can be omitted only at a price of misunderstanding American religious history.






