Camps, Campuses, and Christ: Reclaiming Unity in a Fractured Movement

Beyond The Walls We Have Built, To The Savior Who Unites Us!

Introduction: A Plea from Within

This article is not written from a place of bitterness or rebellion. It’s a heartfelt plea from someone who has been shaped by the preaching, fellowship, and passion of the Independent Baptist world. I write not to tear down, but to build up—not to provoke division, but to call for unity where division has quietly crept in.

Within our movement, many have observed an informal—but powerful—reality: we often organize ourselves into camps. These are not revival meetings or evangelistic efforts, but deeply entrenched circles of influence, loyalty, and identity. Most camps are built around common affiliations, shared heroes, similar ministry styles, and often a central school or institution that serves as the camp’s hub. Over time, they become networks with unspoken expectations, invisible boundaries, and strong cultural norms.

To be clear, spiritual affinity and ministry relationships are not wrong. Even Jesus had His twelve disciples as well as His inner circle, Peter, James, and John. Paul had Timothy, Titus, Silas, and others. Partnerships, mentorships, and ministry friendships are natural—and often essential.

But trouble begins when these fellowships become fortresses. When loyalty to a man, group, or school outweighs loyalty to Christ and His truth, we have crossed a dangerous line. We slip from fellowship into factionalism, from family into fragmentation. It becomes 1 Corinthians 1:11–13 all over again:

“For it hath been declared unto me of you, my brethren, by them which are of the house of Chloe, that there are contentions among you. Now this I say, that every one of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ. Is Christ divided? was Paul crucified for you? or were ye baptized in the name of Paul?”

Jesus was no stranger to “camps.” In His day, there were the Pharisees, Sadducees, Herodians, Zealots, Essenes, and other well-defined groups with strong opinions, clear boundaries, and competing visions for what it meant to follow God. Yet Jesus refused to align Himself exclusively with any of them. He engaged Pharisees in theological dialogue, called a tax collector to be His disciple, healed the servant of a Roman centurion, ministered to Samaritans, and welcomed sinners of every stripe. He didn’t ignore distinctions, but He never let those distinctions isolate Him from the mission of the Father. In contrast, our modern camp mentality often draws lines not based on truth, but on tribe. It asks: “Which school did you go to? Who’s your hero? Which conference do you attend?” The result is a fractured movement where unity is sacrificed on the altar of identity.

The result? A fractured movement, marked by suspicion, limited collaboration, and spiritual silos. Consider this: In our present-day context, we often speak of “lines” or "walls"—lines of division, walls of separation, barriers that identify who is in and who is out. But perhaps a more helpful framework is that of circles of influence. Jesus Himself modeled this. He had the multitudes, the seventy, the twelve, and then the inner three—Peter, James, and John. These were not lines of exclusion, but circles of purposeful relationship. Each circle drew people closer to Himself, not to a rigid system. His influence expanded outward in grace rather than shrinking inward in exclusivity. In contrast, many of our modern “camps” have formed circles that no longer draw others in—they repel. What began as influence has hardened into identity, and identity into isolation.

This article is not a condemnation of our heritage or institutions. It’s a call to re-center our fellowship on Christ. It’s an appeal to return to the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace—not by pretending differences don’t exist, but by refusing to let those differences divide us. If we can approach this conversation with open Bibles and open hearts, we may yet see the kind of oneness Jesus prayed for in John 17—not institutional sameness, but gospel-centered unity.

I. The Rise of the Camp System

The story of the Independent Baptist movement in the 20th century is, in many ways, a story of spiritual strength, evangelistic passion, and a commitment to biblical separation. In the aftermath of theological liberalism’s spread through mainline denominations, many pastors and churches chose a different path—one marked by fidelity to Scripture, a fervent belief in soul-winning, and a refusal to compromise with the rising tide of modernism.

As these convictions took shape, God raised up dynamic leaders who planted churches, started schools, held revivals, published sermons, and influenced thousands. These leaders were often gifted visionaries—strong voices for righteousness who weren’t afraid to stand against compromise. Out of their ministries grew institutions: Bible colleges, fellowships, youth camps, conferences, and publications. These institutions became centers of training, identity, and doctrinal transmission. As a result, natural affiliations began to form.

These affiliations were not problematic in and of themselves. They helped produce a generation of pastors with strong convictions, well-formed ministry models, and deep-rooted loyalty to truth. However, over time, many of these affiliations began to function more like defined “campuses” than collaborative fellowships. They developed unique cultures, distinctive styles of preaching, patterns of separation, and even vocabulary that marked one as being “in” or “out.”

As these "camps" developed, rather than operating as branches of one great gospel tree, they became walled gardens. Cooperation across lines grew less common. Suspicion increased. The question shifted from “Are you walking with God?” to “Which group do you belong to?” In some circles, genuine godliness and doctrinal soundness were secondary to institutional loyalty.

It’s important to acknowledge that much of the early energy behind these camps was sincere and even necessary. But over time, when institutions become ends in themselves, rather than means to a broader gospel mission, we can begin to drift. What began as a passionate defense of truth can become an echo chamber, a silo, or even a stumbling block.

The rise of the camp system was not an accident—it was a response to real threats and a desire for purity. But if we are not careful, what once protected the flock can begin to divide the fold.

Rather than operating as branches of one great gospel tree, these camps became walled gardens. Cooperation across lines grew less common. Suspicion increased. The question shifted from “Are you walking with God?” to “Which group do you belong to?” In some circles, genuine godliness and doctrinal soundness were secondary to institutional loyalty.

Several factors contributed to this development. In some cases, the passing of a central leader left a vacuum that was never quite filled—leaving institutions and fellowships struggling to maintain unity or vision. In other instances, scandal—whether moral, financial, or ministerial—caused some camps to pull inward, reinforcing identity around isolation or self-preservation. Pride also played a role. As influence grew, so did the temptation toward exclusivity. Some began to see their group not merely as a good path, but the only legitimate one.

And when the glory of many classic camps began to fade—through splintering, decline, or simple generational change—a new phenomenon began to emerge: the proliferation of mini-camps. Without a clear center of gravity, a kind of tribal free-for-all emerged. Conferences multiplied. Schools were founded. New networks formed. Everyone, it seemed, was now trying to lead a camp of their own.

The issue is not with passionate leaders or distinct callings—but with the unintended effect: fragmentation. The gravitational pull of Christ-centered cooperation was replaced by the centrifugal force of personal ambition and fractured loyalties.

II. The Fragmented Landscape: When "Camps" Become "Campuses"

Today, the Independent Baptist movement finds itself standing in the long shadow of the old camp system and its leaders—but with a thousand little fragments scattered across the field. The strong personalities and institutional centers that once defined the early camps have either faded, fractured, or imploded. What was once a few strong, cohesive fellowships has given way to a wide assortment of isolated or loosely aligned groups, conferences, schools, fellowships, and personalities—each with its own language, culture, and loyalties.

In many ways, the rise of multiple small camps has made the problem worse, not better. Instead of a few distinct identities, we now have dozens. The question is no longer, “Are you with that camp or this camp?” but “Which version of that camp are you with?” And worse still, many now feel pressured to align with someone—not because of shared convictions, but because of fear of exclusion...which is a very real possibility.

These smaller “campuses” often have all the features of the old system: a central personality, a school or conference, a publishing outlet or podcast, and a shared vision of what constitutes “acceptable ministry.” Many times these groups ooze with smug self satisfaction and quiet superiority cloaked in "conviction."They may not explicitly demand allegiance—but the subtle expectations are unmistakable. Attend the right conferences, retweet the right voices, platform the right preachers, and you’re welcomed in. Step outside the lines, and you’re met with silence—or worse, suspicion.

What began as loyalty to truth has too often become loyalty to personalities. And in the absence of a central unifying vision, many camps now serve more to define who’s out than to draw others in. It’s no longer about Christlikeness, but compatibility. Not doctrinal fidelity, but group loyalty.

The consequences are painful. Young preachers are confused. Churches are unsure where to turn. Opportunities for collaboration are missed because of unspoken “lines” that cannot be crossed. And perhaps most tragically, people hungry for truth are too often met with tribal gatekeeping rather than gospel grace.

There is still great love and loyalty among many of God’s servants, but the fragmentation has left many wondering: Why are we so divided? Why can’t we work together? And beneath it all is the quiet ache of something that feels deeply broken.

III. The Cost of the Camp Mentality

The spirit of factionalism may feel safe, but it is anything but harmless. It is sad that some people cannot see this, or more commonly, refuse to see this. They are so caught up in their world, that they begin to think there is no other way to be a Christian. While each camp may have begun with noble intentions—revival, doctrinal clarity, institutional stewardship—the unintended consequences of exclusive loyalty have often been quietly devastating. The cost is not always seen in headlines or scandals, but in the quiet erosion of unity, humility, and gospel effectiveness.

1. The Cost to Fellowship

One of the most immediate and painful costs of the camp system is fractured fellowship. Brothers in Christ who agree on the fundamentals of the faith can no longer preach for one another—not because of heresy, but because of heritage. A church planter may find himself isolated simply because he didn’t attend the “right” school. A faithful pastor may quietly fall off the radar for no other reason than attending a different conference—or failing to attend one at all. A good capable man may be sidelined, overlooked, or blacklisted, because he wasn't raised up in "our camp."

What began as identity has hardened into isolation. And the family of God, intended to be broad and beautiful, is now divided into silos that barely speak. This is not normal or healthy; and this is not what God intended, nor is it what He desires.

One of the most dangerous dynamics of the camp mentality is its tendency to become an echo chamber. Once a group is formed—often around a school, a leader, or a shared style—it begins to reinforce itself. The same preachers speak at each other’s meetings. The same books circulate within the circle. Conferences, publishing efforts, and ministry networks are often designed not to sharpen the body of Christ broadly, but to preserve the tribe internally. Subtle competition for position and influence arises, and loyalty is rewarded more than clarity or conviction. The result? Camps become hard to leave and harder to question, because many have invested years of relationships, identity, and ministry capital into the system. Over time, these echo chambers can drift from biblical fellowship to factional survival—where defending the camp matters more than discerning the truth.

2. The Cost to the Next Generation

Young preachers and Bible college students are watching—and many are quietly walking away. Some are confused, having been taught to love the Word but discouraged from fellowshipping with anyone who holds it with a different accent. Others are disillusioned, having watched good men blacklisted over minor affiliations or conscience-bound decisions. Still others are simply tired of the noise and are seeking out quieter pastures—places that may lack our zeal and doctrinal fidelity, but offer grace and peace.

The next generation does not need us to compromise truth. But they do need us to embody it—with the humility, charity, and spiritual maturity that tribalism often drowns out.

3. The Cost to the Mission

Perhaps most tragically, the camp mentality has hampered our mission. We were called to go into all the world—not retreat into smaller worlds of our own making. But when ministry becomes more about allegiance than evangelism, we lose sight of why we were called in the first place.

Resources are duplicated unnecessarily. Kingdom efforts are stalled over politics. The gospel is eclipsed by infighting. And instead of being salt and light to a dying world, we find ourselves policing lines in the sand drawn by men—not by Christ.

Jesus prayed, “That they all may be one… that the world may believe that thou hast sent me” (John 17:21). When we divide over personalities, preferences, or platforms, we unintentionally weaken the very testimony our Lord said would prove His divinity.

IV. Unity Without Compromise: A Call Back to Christ-Centered Identity

If camps divide us, Christ must define us.

The answer is not to pretend differences don’t exist or to blend everything into a vague ecumenism. God has always worked through variety—twelve disciples with different personalities, multiple churches with distinct cultures, even early disagreements that sharpened doctrine. But what made the early church powerful was not uniformity—it was unity in Christ.

It is possible—it must be possible—to hold convictions without constructing kingdoms. To embrace doctrine without demanding allegiance. To love the brethren without lining them up by camp.

1. Christ Above Camp

Jesus did not die to redeem a camp. He died to redeem His church. He is not divided, nor is He the mascot of any group or school. The moment we tether our identity more to a movement, a method, or a man than to Christ Himself, we begin to drift.

It is time to return to our first love—not just in private devotion, but in how we relate to one another. When Christ is exalted above all, we find ourselves shoulder to shoulder again—not because we agree on every strategy, but because we kneel at the same cross.

2. Conviction Without Condemnation

We must learn again the lost art of holding strong convictions while extending strong grace. To disagree without dismissing. To sharpen without severing.

Unity does not demand compromise—it demands maturity. It’s possible to say, “I wouldn’t do it that way,” and still say, “But I love you.” It’s possible to prefer a certain style of preaching, schooling, or church culture, and still believe that God is using others for His glory. It is not spiritual strength to isolate. It is spiritual weakness dressed as protection.

3. Collaboration for the Gospel’s Sake

The church in Acts had all kinds of differences—but the gospel drove them together. They prayed together, preached together, suffered together, and rejoiced together. Their bond wasn’t in a camp—it was in a risen Christ and a shared mission.

The Church in Acts: Unified, Not Uniform

The early church was not a group of carbon copies. It was diverse—radically so. From the beginning, it bore within itself cultural, doctrinal, and personality differences that could have easily torn it apart.

• Cultural and Ethnic Differences: The Day of Pentecost saw Jews “out of every nation under heaven” (Acts 2:5) come to faith. Soon after, Greek-speaking Jews (Hellenists) and Aramaic-speaking Jews (Hebrews) clashed over the care of widows (Acts 6). This was a cultural fault line, but the apostles didn’t split—they solved it by raising up deacons. In Acts 6, the division wasn’t just about language—it was about culture, worldview, and perceived faithfulness to Jewish tradition. That makes the church’s unity in that moment even more powerful.

• Doctrinal Differences: In Acts 15, the early church faced a defining doctrinal controversy—must Gentile believers be circumcised to be saved? It was not a simple disagreement. It threatened to divide the entire church. But they came together, discussed openly, submitted to Scripture and the Spirit, and emerged with clarity and unity.

• Personality and Methodology Differences: Paul and Barnabas—two Spirit-filled men who had served together—parted ways over a disagreement about John Mark (Acts 15:36–41). Even in their split, the mission advanced, and later reconciliation was evident (cf. 2 Tim. 4:11).

• Economic and Social Differences: The church in Jerusalem included both those who “sold their possessions and goods” and those who “had need” (Acts 2:45). Rich and poor, landowners and servants, shared one table, one gospel, and one identity in Christ.

Despite all of this, the early church was marked by unity. Not because they ignored their differences, but because they placed Christ and His mission above them.

We must find each other again around that same fire. Not because we are trying to recreate a big tent, but because we are obeying a bigger call.

There is more at stake than reputations. There are souls at stake. Our unity is not a bonus feature of the church—it is part of our witness to the world.

V. Building a Better Future—Together

We cannot undo the past, but we can choose a better path forward.

The Independent Baptist world is full of passionate people—men and women who love the Bible, love their churches, and want to see revival. That is not the problem. The problem is that we’ve too often traded biblical unity for institutional loyalty, fellowship for fragmentation, and Christ-centeredness for camp-centeredness.

But it doesn’t have to stay this way.

1. Let’s Champion Identity in Christ Above All

We must stop expecting others to wear our camp’s jersey before we’ll call them brother. The only mark that ultimately matters is the new birth. The only name that unites us forever is Jesus. When He is truly at the center, the lines that divide begin to fade.

We don’t need to destroy the legacy of any group or minimize the blessings God has given through specific schools or ministries. We simply need to put those things in their proper place—secondary, not supreme.

2. Let’s Model Mature Ministry

Not every disagreement is a deal-breaker. Not every differing opinion is a sign of compromise. We can speak the truth in love. We can disagree without being divisive. We can avoid extremes without abandoning conviction.

The next generation needs to see leaders who are not just warriors, but shepherds—who are not just loyal to men, but submitted to Christ. Leaders who are known not only for what they stand against, but for the grace and truth they carry.

3. Let’s Labor for the Gospel—Side by Side

The world is too lost, and the time is too short, for us to remain in divided corners. The call of Christ is forward, together, for the sake of the gospel. The harvest is not loyal to any camp—and neither is the Holy Spirit. He moves wherever Christ is lifted up.

It’s time to build again. Not around personalities or preferences, but around biblical principles. Let’s create a culture where integrity matters more than influence, where fellowship is not forced but freely given, and where our passion is not for preserving camps—but for proclaiming Christ.

We are not called to be clones. We are called to be a church.

Let’s build a better future—together.

Postscript:

A Risk Worth Taking

I know this article may not sit well with everyone. It may be misunderstood, dismissed, criticized, or even ignored. But I didn’t write it to make noise—I wrote it because I care. I think honesty will demand a hearing for what has been written, and I believe the truth of what I have written is so clearly seen that there can be no denial of it.

This article wasn’t written to criticize, but to care. Not to raise myself up, but to lift our eyes together—back to Christ. If speaking from the heart comes with a cost, so be it. If it brings some loneliness, that’s a burden I’m willing to carry. I’d rather stand near the heart of Christ for unity than settle into the ease of whichever flavor of fellowship feels most familiar and has the potential to benefit me the most. My prayer is not to tear down, but to build up—not to divide, but to call us beyond the camps and back to Christ Himself.