As many as 12,000 independent, fundamental Baptists gathered in Washington, D.C., last month. But they met to discuss God, not government. At the meeting, called Baptist Fundamentalism ‘84, even a visit from President Reagan was uncharacteristically nonpolitical.
The President read a letter from a Jewish army chaplain who assisted injured U.S. Marines after last October’s terrorist bombing in Beirut. Reagan’s theme of interfaith cooperation—emphasized in the rabbi’s letter—was an uncommon subject for this theologically conservative crowd. But it caught the essence of Baptist Fundamentalism ‘84.
Many fundamentalists want to shed the embattled image of their past and move closer to the mainstream of Christian thought and life. “Fundamentalists have been castigated far too long as fanatics and bigots,” Jerry Falwell has written.
Falwell, pastor of Thomas Road Baptist Church in Lynchburg, Virginia, was a central figure at the recent convention. And he was the primary target of criticism from a few groups that opposed the meeting. In 1982 the leaders of two major groups, World Baptist Fellowship and Baptist Bible Fellowship, set aside divisions from the past and met with Falwell and others to plan the conference (CT, Sept. 17, 1982, p. 44).
Truman Dollar, a pastor active with Baptist Bible Fellowship, said Baptist Fundamentalism ‘84 signaled a restructuring of the entire movement. “A new breed of fundamentalists emerged who will spend more time cooperating together on issues of the day,” he said.
Convention participants heard 19 sermons, the closing presidential homily, and talks from U.S. Sen. Jesse Helms (R-N.C.) and Vice President George Bush. Dollar spoke in defense of human rights, warning his listeners of the pitfalls of being exclusive. He reminded them that Jesus opposed a Judaism “for Jews only, for free men only, and for men only.” Falwell called the sermon “a strong repudiation of chauvinism, sectarianism, and a total repudiation of any racist attitudes. It was accepted unanimously. In the past, it would have been a source of controversy.”
Joseph Brown, a black pastor from Baltimore, also was suprisingly well received. He blamed white fundamentalists for opting out of the civil rights struggles of the past 30 years. Other sermons affirmed prayer, inerrancy, Baptist heritage, and “the evils of ecumenism.”
Dan Gelatt, pastor of First Baptist Church in Elkhart, Indiana, credits Falwell for bringing fundamentalism back into the marketplace of ideas. “We’ve lacked for someone to speak freely about the gospel to the common man. Falwell has done better than anyone and has been an encouragement to the rest of us to do the same.”
However, Falwell’s plunge into the public arena is not universally welcomed. His high profile was the main obstacle blocking some fundamentalists from participating in the convention. Notable by their absence were the Bob Joneses of Greenville, South Carolina; Jack Hyles of Hyles-Anderson College in Indiana; and Curtis Hutson, editor of the fundamentalist newspaper Sword of the Lord.
Falwell’s critics object to his collaboration with evangelicals on social issues and his inclusion of Catholics and Mormons in Moral Majority, his political group. Sword of the Lord accepted no advertisements for the conference. And several fundamentalist periodicals criticized the meeting. Greg Dixon, a former Moral Majority leader in Indiana, withdrew his name from the central committee of Baptist Fundamentalism ‘84 just before the conference.
In response, Falwell tried to be conciliatory toward his fellow fundamentalists. “We need to come of age and accept one another in spite of our differences,” he said.
No reliable record tells how many independent fundamentalists there are in the United States. But Falwell has estimated there are 70,000 to 100,000 fundamental churches in America. Baptist Fundamentalism ‘84 fell short of the 26,000 registrants it expected, with 10,000 to 12,000 attending the event. Most of Falwell’s 4,300 Liberty Baptist College students showed up to handle registration and other details.
The registration shortfall proved disappointing to some exhibitors at the convention. Up to 30 percent of the booths remained unsold. And program scheduling left scant opportunity for participants to peruse the curriculum materials, mission information, and advocacy leaflets on display.
Organizers agreed early on that no organization, publication, or future meeting plans would emerge from the convention. But Falwell left open the possibility of another meeting.
“There is no question in my mind that out of this someone will … suggest another meeting and will find a real rallying to it,” he said. Falwell said he has no plans to initiate a future meeting himself. But if he is asked to be the catalyst, he said, “I would certainly consider it.”
BETH SPRINGin Washington
