but lost in the media, American evangelicalsrnseparated themselves into their ownrncolleges and publishing houses. Duringrnthe late 50’s, evangelical leaders likernHarold Ockenga, Billy Graham, andrnCharles Fuller decided to broaden theirrnappeal by reaching out to liberals and RomanrnCatholics, emphasizing their pointsrnof agreement. Firebrands like Bob Jones,rnSr., rejected this “neo-evangelicalism”rnand founded their own schools, whichrnwere designed to maintain the moralrnstandards of evangelicalism and to preservernmilitant adherence to a belief in therninerrancy of the Bible. Indeed, “separation”rnwas not enough—fundamentalistsrninsisted on “second-degree separation.”rnThis meant that not only must they refrainrnfrom fellowship with those who deniedrnthe “fundamentals,” but they mustrnalso separate from those who personallyrnupheld the fundamentals but shared arnstage with those who rejected or questionedrnthem.rnAt the height of the conservative movementrnin the 1980’s, fundamentalists didrnnot join the Moral Majority or the ChristianrnCoalition. They remained separate.rnBob Jones University furthered its independencernby creating its own powerrnplant and getting its meat, dairy, and vegetablesrnfrom a farm down the street. BJUrnalso stood out by defying the central government’srnpressure to end its “segregationist”rnpolicy. The ban on interracialrndating was established in response to thernconcerns raised by the parents of anrnAsian boy who wanted to marry a whiterngirl. (Both were BJU students.) The parentsrn—eager to preserve their Asian heritagern—threatened to sue the school forrnallowing them to date at all. (Of course,rn”dating” at BJU is not the same as elsewherernin today’s “no limits” culture. BobrnJones students are not allowed to bernalone with the opposite sex; girls cannotrnwear slacks or shorts; boys must havernshort, tapered hair; no student can enter arnmovie theater; rock ‘n’ roll is forbidden.)rnBy officially banning interracial dating.rnBob Jones University was simply upholdingrna common cultural commitmentrn(shared by most blacks, Asians, andrnwhites) of America’s not-too-distant pastrn(as well as protecting itself from futurernlawsuits). They added an ad hoc justificationrnto the policy, one that they, norndoubt, believed to be true until recently:rnThe Tower of Babel was a divine act, notrnto be reversed. The American meltingrnpot, therefore, is an end-times Antichristrnplot, reducing all nations to their leastrncommon denominator and blendingrnaway their deeply held beliefs and distinctions.rn”We no longer believe that to be true,”rnsaid Dr. Jones on CNN. The question is,rnwhy not? As the NATO war machinernrolls through Eastern Europe, as ourrnWashington taskmasters crack theirrnwhips across our backs, what makes Dr.rnJones think that the Antichrist plot is nornlonger afoot? Are we living — oncernagain —in Cotton Mather’s “great ChristianrnAmerica”?rnPerhaps fundamentalism is playingrncatch-up to American evangelicalism.rnBefore long, fundamentalists might alsornattempt to lure in young people withrnChristian rock ‘n’ rollers such as the recentlyrndivorced Amy Crant, or by playingrnbeach-blanket bingo with Campus Crusadernfor Christ. Maybe they are ready tornhold hands with Coach McCartney andrnhis Promise Keepers, and let all the wallsrncome down.rnFor serious Christians of all denominations,rnthe Bob Jones Universit)’ of BobrnJones, Sr., and Bob Jones, II, representedrnthe kind of self-determination that originallyrnmade America great —and free.rnThose—like Bob Jones, III—who cave inrnto the pressures of tiie New World Culturernusually don’t stop imtil they striprnthemselves of everything that makesrnthem distinct. Once you start chasing afterrnthe media’s and the government’s approval,rnyou have yielded up the ghost.rn-Aaron D. Wolfrn”DISCRIMINATION’ is one of today’srnbuzzwords, and laws and regulationsrnprohibiting discrimination basedrnon sexual orientation are fueling some ofrnthe sharpest skirmishes within America’srnculture wars. A New Jersey SupremernCourt ruling against the Boy Scouts’ banrnon homosexual Scout leaders has gainedrnthe most publicity of late. But a publicrnfeud between one of America’s largestrnpara-church ministries and one of itsrnlargest banks, along with an intra-denominationalrndispute over same-sex couplesrnat a Chicago-area church camp, furtherrnillustrate the starkness of the battle lines.rnJames Dobson’s Colorado-based Focusrnon the Family is one of the nation’srnlargest para-church evangelical ministries,rnwith 1,300 employees and an annualrnbudget of $112 million. Any largernbanking firm would presumably covetrnmanaging the ministry’s charitable giftrnannuity.rnBut not the Pittsburgh-based MellonrnBank, which rebuffed Focus’s approach,rnciting the bank’s policy of non-discriminationrnbased on “sexual orientation.”rnDobson’s group is one of the nation’srnleading opponents of same-sex “marriage”rnand of public school curricula thatrnadvocate acceptance of homosexualrnpractice.rnNot one to shy away from controversy,rnDobson took to the airwaves against thernbanking giant, urging his three to fourrnmillion radio listeners to phone MellonrnBank to complain about its discriminationrnagainst a Christian ministr)’ becausernof its beliefs.rnApparently inundated with phonerncalls, Mellon threatened legal actionrnagainst Focus if the campaign did notrnend. But as the complaints continued,rnMellon relented and offered its servicesrnto Dobson’s group, claiming a “misunderstanding”rnhad divided the organizations.rnMellon told Focus that it would “consider”rna business arrangement with thernministry so long as the bank is not expectedrnto compromise its policy regardingrnsexual orientation. No thanks, said Focus,rnwhich denied ever making an issuernof Mellon’s employment practices.rnFocus was looking for a bank with financialrnprowess, not necessarily conservativernviews. In fact. Focus said it wouldrntake its business to the San FranciscobasedrnWells Fargo Company, whichrnmust comply with that cit}”s ordinancernagainst discrinrination based on sexualrnorientation.rnIn another situation involving less corporaternfirepower but no less emotion, arnUnited Methodist camp near Chicago isrnbattling its own denominational officialsrnover its refusal to rent a cabin to a samesexrncouple.rnThe Historic Methodist Campgroundrnat Des Plaines, Illinois, dates back to therngreat revivals of the prc-Civil War Midwest.rnLess prone to tier)’ revivalism now,rnthe camp plays host mostly to olderrnMethodists looking for a quiet retreat.rnLast year, a male “couple” with a fouryear-rnold foster child rented a cabin at therncamp, and later wrote a letter of thanksrnthat was published in the camp newsletter.rnMany residents and trustees wererntroubled that the church camp had hostedrna less-than-traditional “family.” Thernboard of trustees refused to rent the cottagernto the couple for a second summer.rnAlthough the trustees thought theyrnwere upholding the beliefs of their ownrnMAY 2000/7rnrnrn