Susan Friend Harding’s excellent anthropological study of born-again Christians is entitled, The Book of Jerry Falwell: Fundamentalist Language and Politics, but perhaps the subtitle should have been placed up front. Falwell’s ministry empire is the catalyst for this study rather than its focus. Harding does exactly what one hopes any good anthropologist would do. She enters into the mindset of the culture she is studying as far as she is able and gives outsiders a view as to what it means to live and speak, to vote and spend money, to watch the news and go to school as a fundamentalist.
Harding’s thick description of conservative Christianity centers on language and this emphasis sets her work apart from most histories of fundamentalists/ evangelicals. She eschews spectacle and judgment and instead gets the reader inside the fundamentalists’ heads. Her treatment of fundamentalist attitudes toward sacrificial giving is an excellent example of this. It’s easy to think of these folks as gullible rubes taken in by a slick religious con man, but from their point of view, they didn’t give money to Pat Robertson or Jerry Falwell. They gave it to God. This is the sort of insight that is absolutely key to understanding the phenomenon of fundamentalist fund-raising, but it’s just the sort of thing a historian or journalist would often overlook.
However, there are things that an historian or a theologian might have caught which Harding misses. She assumes that Fundamentalism was exiled after the Scopes Trial, and minimizes the significant actions of conservative Christians in the 40’s and 50’s despite the fact that the post-war years heavily influenced the shape of the fundamentalist revival she wants to explore. Here, Matthew Sutton’s work is a helpful companion/correction. However, Harding may be forgiven if she overlooks or misinterprets the history of the movement, since such is not really the focus of her research. Hers is the story of language, and for a movement created and sustained by Word and rhetoric, this is an essential way of telling their story.
Her account is sympathetic to born-again Christianity but doesn’t pull punches. Though Harding freely confesses that she is occasionally bewildered by her subjects, she is not interested in describing Falwell and company as villains or fools. In fact, there are times in Harding’s narrative when the preachers are so eclipsed by their rhetoric that the men themselves (the ministers treated in the book are all male) are almost superfluous. Certainly this is true in the book’s strongest chapter – “Speaking is Believing.”
In it, Harding powerfully recounts the story of an interview with Rev. Melvin Campbell, a fundamentalist preacher at a small church in Lynchburg. Campbell quickly turns the interview session into a chance to witness to an unbeliever. What makes the account so interesting is the way that Harding is drawn further into Campbell’s story than she anticipated or desired. “There is no such thing as a neutral position,” she says, “No space for an ethnographer seeking ‘information.’ Either you are lost, or you are saved.” Though Harding does not convert, she openly tells her readers that Campbell drew her into a liminal position somewhere between belief and unbelief. She herself is unaware of just how far in she has gone until a near accident on her drive home causes her to ask, “What is God trying to tell me?” Harding then works backwards from her own experience to identify the way(s) that Campbell’s rhetoric worked upon her. What she finds is a depth and complexity of speech of which Campbell is almost certainly unaware. Harding finds five rhetorical movements in Campbell’s witness that she believes are typical of how fundamentalists share their faith. 1) “He equated his present listener with the listeners in his stories.” 2) “He fashioned her as lost.” 3) “He fashioned the gospel speaker – himself and others – as saved.” 4) “He transformed lost listeners in his stories into gospel speakers.” 5) “He invited me to undergo the same transformation…and become a gospel speaker.” There is little doubt that Campbell would not have described his speech in such a manner, but there is also little doubt that he would find such a description accurate.
Fundamentalist preachers weave together a rich tapestry of biblical narratives untied by common themes – death and resurrection, loss and redemption, alienation and election, etc. These powerful themes from Scripture are seamlessly connected both to the life of the preacher himself and from there to the life of his listener(s).
Campbell was a compelling witness [because of] the extent to which, and eloquence with which, he gave his life, narratively speaking, to the language of Christ. This willingness to submit one’s life to God, to narrate one’s experience and fashion stories out of it in dialogue with God’s will and biblical truths, makes God, and his Word, most real and known and irrefutable to oneself and to one’s listener.
By reproducing large swaths of Campbell’s testimony and chronicling her reactions to it, Harding is able to show her readers how and why fundamentalist rhetoric is so powerful. And she extends this treatment beyond evangelistic language and into intra-fundamentalist debates like the one prompted by Frankie Shaeffer’s chapel sermon at Liberty College in 1982.
Schaeffer, like his father before him, sought to make major reforms in fundamentalist Christianity without sacrificing the heart of it, namely, biblical inerrancy. Harding presents his confrontational sermon at Liberty as a moment of change in Falwell’s approach to social and cultural engagement. With his claim that Christianity is truth not religion, Schaeffer pushed fundamentalists to change the world through vocations outside of the ministry. “The editor of the New York Times will be more influential than any preacher,” he argued. This rhetorical act had major consequences for Liberty, Falwell, and conservative Christianity in general. Yet even as he embraced this new path, Falwell managed to absorb these ideas into his bourgeoning rhetorical empire rather than simply change his direction.
Harding’s emphasis on language doesn’t stop her from addressing the controversial side of fundamentalism. Her treatment of Falwell’s anti-abortion book, If I Should Die Before I Wake, manages to navigate the trouble waters of the abortion debate without getting lost in the emotion and politics surrounding the topic. Rather than focusing on Falwell and other Christians use of the word “murder” to describe abortion, she examines his appropriation of feminist points of view, a new and far more interesting account of Christian opposition to abortion than the one typically presented. The final chapter of the book examines the “telescandals” of the 1980s, and here again Harding takes a surprising angle on the events. She dutifully gives the facts surrounding the case, stories of prostitutes and shady fundraising practices, but the lurid details are jettisoned and replaced by a fascinating examination of the language surrounding the events both in the national media and inside the fundamentalist camp. Indeed, Ted Koppel is a more prominent figure in this chapter than Falwell.
Harding has produced an engaging and readable book that brings a new and important point of view to the burgeoning field of inquiry surrounding the Christian Right in America. Hers is probably not the first book or the last that students of the movement should read, but it is an essential one nonetheless. Harding is a translator and a guide for those outside of conservative Christianity, and she helps non-believers understand their neighbors before passing judgment on them. Moreover, by her insightful examination of fundamentalist rhetoric and language, she helps those within the culture to follow that most essential of Socratic imperatives: “Know thyself.”