Greg Coates is not an evangelical any more.

Tonight I went to a good ol' fashioned evangelical camp meeting. It's not quite the same as it once was when the holiness people would congregate in tents for a week and walk “the sawdust trial.” Today we've exchanged tents for miniature houses complete with cable TV and Wi-Fi, sawdust trails for carpet, four-part harmony for modern generic praise choruses played by a slick college band, and open-air worship for A/C. But one thing has not changed: the altar.

The preacher this evening spoke about the need to give all to God, stop living an ordinary life and start living an extraordinary one, and replacing our comfort zones with radical, dangerous obedience to Christ. Although the man spoke with a far too polished preacher voice, his message was decent and one that I agree with: stop your mundane existence and be a radical for God. In fact, I've become so convinced of the the necessity that a Christ-follower ought to leave comfort, that my family and I have rejected a middle-class neighborhood, a middle-class house, and a middle-class income in order to do just that.

But I was waiting for the preacher to put teeth on his sermon, to unpack for us a bit what it means to live an extraordinary life. And instead of him suggesting that we sell our possessions and give the money to the poor, or go to Africa and try to stop the violence in Darfur, or reject the upward mobility of American culture and embrace solidarity with the marginalized, or enter the world of the drug addict, or stand up against the military-industrial complex of our nation -- instead of saying anything like that he basically said, “So come to the altar tonight and give your heart to Jesus.”

But what does “giving your heart to Jesus” mean? You see, I am convinced that when conservative evangelicals speak of “giving yourself to God,” they are speaking of a very inward, personal, “spiritual,” change of attitude. They are talking about saying a few words between an individual human and God in heaven. In other words, they are offering a hyper-spiritualized message which might have implications for our inner thoughts, but certainly will not involve something like rejecting middle class American values and ways of life.

I don't mean to downplay the significance of inner spiritual experiences. I've had many and they make me who I am. But at what point do these inner experiences cross the line and enter in to how we really live. At what point does my spirituality start to impact my budget, or the car I drive, or the way I eat, or the people I choose to spend my time with?

It is this hyper-spiritualized gospel which has now led me to officially reject the name “evangelical.” Before this night, I had never shed that descriptor. But I am convinced that I am a different animal than the evangelical. When they use terms like “being born again” or “asking Jesus into your heart” or “making Jesus your personal Lord and Savior,” I think that they are almost always talking purely about an inner, mental/psychological, hyper-spiritualized shift in attitude. Well, I want more than that. I want a religion that reshapes societies, that redeems all of creation, that works tirelessly to bring justice into this world on a social and political level. I want a religion that goes beyond the inner heart of Greg Coates and instead offers an alternative way of living which is a foreshadowing of the Ultimate Reality to be revealed in the last day. Yes, I do want the inner transformation of my own heart, but only because I too am part of a creation needing to be redeemed, and not because the main plot of it all it to get me out of hell and into heaven.

I'm sick of associating with a group that claims to “surrender all” to Christ and yet lives almost completely and entirely like the culture around it. It seems to me that today the ONLY defining characteristics of most evangelicals are that they attend church once a week and are perhaps a bit more judgmental than the average person. I've had enough of being part of that group. I hereby renounce the name evangelical and prefer to instead be called a follower of The Way – something much more radical and exciting than the diluted, neutered message I've heard from evangelicals for so many years.