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After the Lord regenerated me in 1984, I became part of the Christian fundamentalist movement, specifically, within the stream known as Independent Baptists. In my hometown, most churchgoing people were Baptists, and those Baptists generally fell into two categories: Independent and Southern Baptists. I visited several of their churches and eventually joined an Independent Fundamental Baptist congregation. The church I joined was passionate about the gospel. And that passion resonated deeply with me. My thinking was straightforward: if God saved you—if He rescued you from hell—then He was worth every ounce of your enthusiasm. I didn’t know much about the Bible at all; I didn’t even know John 3:16.
So my due diligence when selecting a church was based external observations. If it looked zealous and clean, I assumed it must be faithful and biblical. Though I’m no longer part of the movement, I carry sincere gratitude and deep respect for many of my dear friends who remain Fundamental Baptists. Some of my fondest memories are tied to that season of my life, and I eagerly await the day when I will worship our Savior in heaven with these precious brothers and sisters in Christ, completely free of all our baggage.
Fundamentalism began as a faithful and wise reaction to the Church’s slow drift into liberalism—a trend that plagued the American church in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The early fundamentalists rightly perceived this drift and sought to reestablish clarity, conviction, and courage in the face of theological compromise. Men like J. Gresham Machen, Charles Hodge, and others associated with Princeton Seminary stood in the gap. As Princeton began to slide into heresy, these faithful men began to separate. It was the beginning of a movement to recenter the Church on historic Christian orthodoxy. This period emerged just after the turn of the 20th century.
The fundamentalists, along with conservative evangelicals like Cornelius Van Til and B. B. Warfield, wanted to codify and reaffirm what historic Christianity had always believed. They referred to these reaffirmations as the “fundamentals of the faith.” This realignment was necessary and wise. There are seasons in the life of the Church where redefinition is crucial. To remain faithful, we must consistently remind ourselves who we are, what we believe, and how we are to live. That kind of self-clarification, as we bring our understanding of the Bible through the hermeneutical spiral, has generational benefit. It preserves direction, reinforces purpose, and safeguards legacy.
By the 1920s, however, the fundamentalist movement began taking up cultural causes as well. One of the most notable was the movement for prohibition. Fundamentalists began preaching against the use and abuse of alcohol, something rampant in America at the time. Their concern was not unfounded. Our culture had accelerated in its pursuit of hedonism, shedding the restraint of previous generations. What used to be hidden or shameful was now paraded publicly and praised openly. In the minds of many conservative Christians, the world as they knew it was crumbling. Morality was decaying, and the Church had to take action. But how? Someone had to stand in the gap, declaring what is right and what is wrong.
The result? Fundamentalism began to shift.
By the 1940s and 1950s, the movement began adding sub-biblical, legalistic preferences to the fundamentals of the faith. It’s crucial to note: they didn’t drift from the core doctrines—they simply added layers of external behavior to safeguard the truths they believed. These behavioral expectations were taught with zeal. With the advent of television, movies, and rock and roll, fundamentalist leaders felt the culture slipping further and further away. In many circles, the teaching (i.e., doctrine) was assumed, but the behavior was not. So the focus shifted to behavior. But here’s the problem: external behavior standards are not static. They shift based on context, across cultures and generations.
For example, the clothes one wears in colder climates naturally differ from those in tropical areas. And yet, some fundamentalists would still insist that a woman should never wear pants, citing Deuteronomy 22:5. That stance might feel pious, but it’s both unrealistic and unkind to women in cold climates. Others ban drums in church (2 Samuel 6:5) because they claim it’s of the devil. But in African churches, drums are a rich, God-glorifying part of worship. What is declared demonic in one culture is part of joyful praise in another.
In this environment, preferences slowly became convictions. And convictions slowly reshaped how people read the Bible, creating an altered hermeneutic. Much like the Pharisees in the Gospels, fundamentalists began making their preferences normative, and in doing so, they slowly detached themselves from sound exegesis. Rather than deriving behavior from Scripture, they adopted certain behaviors and then went back to reinterpret Scripture to support their externalism. And they elevated those interpretations to the level of biblical conviction. I’ve already mentioned pants on women and drums in church. Other examples include:
The list is long, and it varies from person to person, family to family, church to church, denomination to denomination, and geographic region to region.
The Pharisees in Jesus’ day were known for creating hedges around the law. Afraid of offending God’s commands, they built rules around the rules. The hedge was a protective buffer meant to keep people from ever getting close to the line. But over time, these hedges became law themselves. Let me illustrate: Scripture says we are brought out of darkness (1 Peter 2:9) and are to have nothing to do with uncleanness (2 Corinthians 6:17). The principle is good: we are not to adopt pagan practices. But the hedge becomes “Don’t associate at all with unbelievers.”
So instead of avoiding worldliness, the fundamentalist avoids the world. It’s no longer about resisting sin, it’s about separating from sinners. This unbiblical doctrine of separation doesn’t just keep you from evil, it prevents you from loving people in need of Christ. Jesus, on the other hand, pursued the lost. He went beyond these sub-biblical barriers (Mark 2:13–17). He didn’t ignore sin. But He didn’t fear proximity to it either. Why? Because He came for those who were sick, broken, depraved, and vile.
The unavoidable reality is this: you cannot codify how every Christian, in every culture, across all generations, should live behaviorally. When you try to enforce rigid external standards on all believers everywhere, the result is often confusion, discouragement, and spiritual distortion. You end up with bad habits, ongoing sin, and significant social awkwardness. Each person, family, church, group, or denomination begins building their own unique list of dos and don’ts. It leads to fragmentation and dysfunction. This kind of culture invariably results in multiple layers of soul-related problems.
Here are just a few of the common pitfalls that can show up in fundamentalist communities, though it must be noted, we are all susceptible to these patterns regardless of our background.
Many who eventually leave fundamentalist systems struggle to separate truth from error. The shaping influence is strong. Unraveling it takes time. On average, it takes around five years of intentional, gospel-centered discipleship before a person can truly rest in the freedom of Christ (Galatians 5:1). Over time, Scripture gets buried beneath the regulations. The lists, the standards, and the pressure to behave become so overwhelming that the simple beauty of Christ is lost. After years of this kind of law morphing, you become less like Jesus and more like a cultic imitation of Christianity—one that doesn’t know how to live in or engage the world the way Jesus did.
Warning: It can be tempting—especially if you’ve come out of Fundamentalism—to react in anger or mockery toward those still in it. But that reaction would be sinful. My fundamentalist friends are some of the most sincere believers I’ve ever known. They remind me of the Jewish believer in 1 Corinthians 8:1–13. He had become a Christian but was still deeply bound by bad teaching. His conscience condemned him if he ate meat sacrificed to idols. I understand that man. I was that man.
It took me a long time to stop wearing a suit to a church meeting. To mock, dismiss, or react with bitterness toward a fundamentalist is to practice the very self-righteousness you claim to reject. Would you speak that way to a Jewish convert who thought eating meat was a sin? Don’t be that person.
These brothers and sisters love God, revere His Word, and deeply desire for others to know Him. In many cases, their struggles are less about affection for God and more about misinformed consciences shaped by unbiblical rules. That’s where the damage is done. Unfortunately, these behavioral standards create unnecessary confusion for outsiders and unhelpful barriers for evangelism. But if your instinct is to scorn rather than sympathize, to posture rather than pray, you must deal with your own Pharisaical pride.
It is rare for a fundamentalist to see that they’re trapped. And if they do see it, many lack the courage or community to act on it. Most often, people don’t leave fundamentalist systems until their life falls apart. It’s not usually a quiet, thoughtful departure—it’s a forced exit. An extraction.
In His mercy, the Lord will sometimes allow things to collapse. When that happens, it’s your signal to re-evaluate your Christian beliefs with fresh eyes. But because pride runs so deep, it’s hard to assess what you believe with humility, transparency, and honesty. Most people cling to the system until it breaks. That was my story. And as painful as it was to “come out,” I thank God that He loved me enough to deliver me from that form of distorted Christianity. He saved me once through justification, and He is still saving me through sanctification.
Let’s examine your heart with sober, hopeful questions.
Freedom is possible. Not a freedom that rejects holiness, but one that pursues it from a place of rest in Christ.
For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery (Galatians 5:1).
Rick launched the Life Over Coffee global training network in 2008 to bring hope and help for you and others by creating resources that spark conversations for transformation. His primary responsibilities are resource creation and leadership development, which he does through speaking, writing, podcasting, and educating.
In 1990 he earned a BA in Theology and, in 1991, a BS in Education. In 1993, he received his ordination into Christian ministry, and in 2000 he graduated with an MA in Counseling from The Master’s University. In 2006 he was recognized as a Fellow of the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors (ACBC).
