Matthew Barrett’s move to Anglicanism is just a high-profile example of the unraveling of Evangelicalism.

Barrett was a big shot in Evangelical academia and the SBC who eventually found his Evangelical faith and practice to be intellectually, spiritually, and historically shallow. His theological pursuits center around study of classical theology, especially the work of Thomas Aquinas, and these became increasingly opposed by the Baptistic ethos of the SBC. He is one of many such cases of men leaving Evangelicalism for something more solid. Men are consistently looking for more historic and intellectually deep expressions of Christianity, such as Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Anglican, Lutheran, and Reformed churches. I spoke with a coworker a few days ago who was asking a lot of the same questions about his Evangelical background. It behooves us to ask what’s going on.

Men are right to be asking questions. What is called “Evangelicalism” today is an ahistoric expression of the Christian faith. It denies certain secondary issues that were held by virtually all Christians, such as the sacraments being effectual means of grace, infant baptism, the real presence of Christ in the Lord’s Supper, the necessity of Apostolic succession, the use of natural and classical theology, the authority of creeds and confessions, the catholicity of the church, and so on. The difference between Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Classical Protestants regards what each of these terms mean, not whether or not they are accepted as part of Christianity.

At most, Evangelicalism sets itself apart from historic Christianity by rejecting some or all of these elements. At least, Evangelicalism often proves to be buffet-table Christianity, where each Christian may accept or reject whatever they like according to their convictions. It produces poor creatures who sound like an asystematic sampling of historical Christian doctrine: “I’m Reformed, but I don’t think we should baptize infants, and I prefer the Lutheran view of the Lord’s Supper, and I don’t like how the Apostles Creed says this or that, and I generally hold to the Regulative Principle but I think using icons is sometimes ok, and I’m a Thomist, and I think grape juice is ok in communion, and I hold to the 1689 London Baptist Confession but I don’t believe Sunday is the New Covenant sabbath…” This doctrinal discombobulation combined with an extremely informal approach to Lord’s Day liturgy leaves little room for all the elements of worship to minister to the congregation. At best, Evangelical worship services are little more than glorified Bible studies with sappy music and factory-packaged bread and grape juice canisters for communion. At worst, they are gaudy and irreverent “worshiptainment”. These things make Evangelicalism inherently unstable, lacking in depth, and devoid of intellectual, practical, and spiritual gravitas. “Gospel centeredness” is its frail attempt at a defining principle around which to structure the movement, but it isn’t comprehensive enough to provide long-term cohesion. As a result, it is currently experiencing an unraveling.

It’s no wonder Evangelical men are leaving their churches for things like Anglicanism. They are spiritually confused and starved, and historic Christianity promises to feed them. My wife and I left an Evangelical church we had attended for years because we felt the same things, and decided to join a confessional Reformed church with classical Reformed liturgy, forms, theology, and succession. We hear the reading of the law, confess our sins, hear an assurance of pardon, recite the Creeds, draw on the rich Biblical and theological depth of the Reformed faith, and go home to take a nap every Lord’s Day. The liturgy is responsive and participative, yet reverent and weighty. We’ve baptized both of our infant sons, and recieve the Lord’s Supper with a hearty reminder that this is “the blood of Christ shed for your sins” from our elders. We sing Psalms and memorize the Heidelberg as a family. We feel right at home with the saints of all ages in the broader apostolic and catholic (yes, little “C”) church. Our church is small, and my pastor texts me weekly to see how me my family is doing. We love it.

As much as I’m glad that men are seeking more historic expressions of Christianity, I’m not cheering on the general trend of Evangelicalism falling apart. I was saved and discipled in the Evangelical faith like so many other American Christians. Like it or not, it’s the dominant expression of Christianity in the United States, and therefore an important part of our current religious and political climate. Its unraveling has unforseeable consequences. Many are leaving it for Classical Protestantism, which is good; and I pray especially that the revival of Reformed Catholicity in the conservative Presbyterian and Reformed churches would dominate the movement. But others are going to Rome and the East, which is not good. Evangelical leaders have to stop the bleeding, and that means embracing and promoting historic expressions of Protestant orthodoxy within their churches. God is calling the young men back to Himself. Their increasing attendance at church shows they are hungry for deep truth and stable tradition. They will go wherever they can seemingly find it, even if that means going to Rome. Sadly, the trend isn’t favorable. In Barrett’s article on why he’s leaving the SBC, he cites the rejection of the 2025 SBC Convention motion to add the Nicene Creed to the Baptist Faith and Message. Whether the Creed was rejected for material or formal reasons, I agree with Barrett: it’s not a good look.

The old spirit of Evangelicalism has to die. It will either die and be forgotten, or die and be reborn.