Meditations on the Fifth Commandment
Pt. 1
I worked my way through college at the University of Missouri doing a number of jobs. Almost all of them were what I used to call “real” jobs… construction, factory work, a shipyard welder, driving a box truck for a freight company. My favorite job of all my jobs was that of mechanic/wrecker driver. I always met the most interesting people while driving a wrecker. Often you would have long stretches of time in the tow truck with nothing to do but talk.
One memorable instance involved three lesbian Wiccan performance artists who were all in a “committed” relationship with each other. They made little drums and went from place to place in the warmer months doing performance art and selling their drums. In winter they lived in a tent on some land they owned in Arkansas. Space does not permit an explanation of how I ended up in this particular situation, Suffice it to say that I found myself shoehorned into the cab of a one-ton Chevy wrecker with these three women for over three hours.
Now, I had never met three Wiccan lesbian performance artists before. I had to wait for several years until I enrolled in Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary (PCUSA) to meet some more, but that’s another story. I was kind of curious, and they were pretty open to discussing their beliefs and lifestyle. I told them I was a Christian and was headed for ministry someday, and that didn’t seem to bother them too much. So we had lots to talk about.
I’ve forgotten most of the conversation, but I do remember our discussions concerning one particular topic. Their analysis of what was wrong with the world all revolved around what they called “Power Over.” Some people have power over other people. That is the genesis of all of our troubles. We are all meant to be radically free and self-determining. Power Over is therefore a fundamentally illegitimate situation. If we could do away with it, then Eden would be reconstituted.
They were kind of fuzzy on how to handle things when I pointed out that the relationship between parent and child, employer and employee, and even our relationship there in the truck were all examples of Power Over that hardly seemed escapable. I had power over them simply by virtue of the fact that I could tell them to get out of my truck and drop their VW Microbus off the hook and drive away, leaving them on the side of the road. There was also no way in their system of thought to deal with evil people bent on doing bad things, or selfish people ignoring the rights of others. To my mind it wasn’t a very cohesive worldview.
It is, however, an increasingly common worldview. Or at least it commonly informs many people’s worldviews, however inconsistently. Barthian theologian Jacques Ellul, a so-called “Christian Marxist” whose views informed the theology behind Willie Young’s book The Shack, was one who believed that Power Over, or hierarchy, is intrinsically evil and unjust. We see this peeking out when Willie’s version of the Triune God claims not to even have the right to exercise power over his (her? his/her?) own radically free creatures. (pp 201-207 in my edition.)
However, that is not the Biblical worldview. The Bible prescribes, describes, and circumscribes human relationships of unequal power. Creator/creature, parent/child, husband/wife, master/servant, and shepherd/sheep are all relationships of unequal power. God has given some people legitimate power over others. Appropriate exercise of that power is an unvarnished good. It is, by Christ’s own definition, loving my neighbor as myself. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Fifth Commandment. The Larger Catechism Q.123-133 do a very good job of explicating the principles of the right use of power, and regulating the exercise thereof.
I will write more on this later, but for now I want to suggest that we Reformed Christians, and especially those who are ordained leaders in the Church, have drunk just a little bit of Jacques Ellul’s Kool-Aide. We are prone, not to the abusive exercise of ecclesiastical power, but rather the abdication of our God-given responsibilities in the name of being “loving.” Any exercise of ecclesiastical power is considered to be a de facto unloving act. Ellul couldn’t have said it better himself.
But it is when we fail to exercise legitimate power that we are actually being unloving. We fail to love the offender, and confirm and harden him in his sin. We fail to love the Church. We fail to love the God who called us to this ministry and gave us the Office of the Keys as part of our theological toolbox. We fail to love ourselves because we allow ourselves to skate by without really honoring our own ordination vows. Surely the Devil laughs.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
And Now, The Rest of the Story
I've been so hard on the Federal Vision guys lately that I thought I'd give them a chance to respond with their best arguments. Unfortunately, this is the best they could do.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Popery Isn't The Nice Smelling Stuff in Your Wife's Underwear Drawer
Below is another essay by a former FV-er who swam the Tiber. The blog has since been taken down, but the internet never really loses anything. It just temporarily misplaces it.
Blessings,
B
Homesick No More
Ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. - Jeremiah 6:16
Monday, August 27, 2007
On How The Federal Vision Made Me Catholic
So there's much hubbub lately about the Federal Vision controversy. The conservative reformed world is fast becoming a house divided against itself over the issues of the reality of the sacraments and what they confer upon the recipient and the real possibility of apostasy.
Having been myself a member of both a Federal Vision community (lo, I am a pharisee of pharisees coming from Christ Church itself, the very Mecca of the FV movement) and a non-FV reformed community (OPC to be precise) and now a communing Catholic (in that order) I have thought about the question a fair bit. I still keep up on the matter, though through a glass dimly, mostly because the ideas of the preachers of the FV movement were largely the ideas that lead me to be accepted into the Catholic Church.
Let me say at the outset that I still hold a great fondness for that particular set of Presbyterians in general and many of their members in specific. I am greatly encouraged to see some of their number moving the direction I have moved. Mostly, I am grieved to think, as might be the case, that I have spoken ill in broad sweeping generalizations against my brothers in those communities. If in the fervor of my conversion I spoke as to offend, I ask that you would forgive the zeal of a young man in the throws of something unimaginably larger than himself.
That said, on to the FV movement. I don't wish to deal with the particular theological contentions of the FV movement because, obviously, they are largely inherently protestant and I disagree with them because they conflict explicitly with my Catholic presuppositions. I wish to deal rather with the ethos of the movement and specifically that way of leaning into religion that I learned at Christ Church.
Over and against my non-denominational upbringing (and with much fighting against it on my part) I was taught at Christ Church and at New St. Andrews College to think, increasingly over the five years I was there, of the sacraments confected there as decidely more effective than I had ever considered them before. I was taught to believe that baptism entailed a real sort of ingrafting into Christ. I was taught to believe that the Lord's Supper made Christ somehow truly present among us in a way distinct from His ominpresence. I was taught, perhaps not in Catholic terms but in a real way, to believe that grace of a sort was given to Christians in the supper. I was most definitely taught to believe that sin would be brought to light and repentance effected by my and my neighbors' reception of the supper.
To be sure I was taught not to believe the Roman doctrine that Christ was physically present in what I received. I was taught that baptism surely did not forgive the sins of the recipient, but I was lead to believe that something spiritual and gracious was taking place in these sacraments.
I was quickly required by my father, a non-denominational pastor, to account for these things. What was this grace, this connection to Christ, this spiritual reality that I believed was present in the sacraments? As co-heirs of the reformation we could both, along with the FV pastors, be sure that whatever it was it was not justifying grace. It was not the grace that made us stand holy in Christ. This was the one thing it categorically could not be. Yet both the teaching of my pastors and the words of Scripture made me sure that it was something real, not just a memorial that made me more holy by virtue of reflection.
To further confuse the issue, there was the weekly statement of absolution that Pastor Wilson gave from the pulpit in the liturgy. We would pray a corporate prayer of confession and Pastor would tell us, in his position of authority as a minister of God, that the confessed sins of God's people were forgiven. [/font]
I clung to this statement through some of the darkest nights of my soul in my quite disreputable college days. Sometimes it was the only thing that really reassured me that God loved me and forgave me my sins, despite my continuation in them.
This statement was also quite distinct from the variation on the same theme that I received at the OPC community of which I was later a member. The statement there was more along the lines of "God, broadly speaking, forgives the sins of the elect." There was no personal reassurance that my sins were forgiven. I was substantially less assured by this practice. The same was true of my reception of the supper there.
But in all of this there was a gnawing at the back of my brain that was that indefinable nature of the grace I was receiving. If election was really the main thing, these sacraments could neither assure nor assist my journey to heaven. I knew that if I asked I would be told that my sins were not, so to speak, absolved in that statement, that it was a sign of sorts, of the forgiveness I already had. That the supper was a 'sign and seal' of the redemption that was or was not already mine.
But there I was. I had already, as a protestant, learned to lean on grace that I was simultaneously being taught could have no real effect on my eternal destiny. In my day to day life of faith, these things were the life rafts that held me afloat. These were the only places where I sensed the reality of God's grace, and yet I was being told that it was faith, not these signs that were conferring it. Yet I knew my faith to be so weak! If it was the greatness or sincerity of my faith that upheld the process, I knew myself to be damned.
I was, by various circumstances after leaving Moscow, exposed to the Catholic faith. The Catholic faith provided exactly what I was looking for, dare I say had been primed to look for. Real Grace conferred in real Sacraments. No longer did i have to flail, Luther-like, with internal existential struggles! When the priest said my sins were forgiven, they were forgiven! Just like Jesus said to the Apostles "I give you the power to forgive sins." When the priest said "This is my Body" it was His Body, broken for me! There and then! REALLY!
I had been taught for so long to lean on the reality of the sacraments in the FV community with a huge hanging caveat of "Not Really". Your sins are forgiven, though be sure to remember they've already been forgiven, this is just a sign. This is my Body, this is my Blood, but not really, just in a sort of spiritual, metaphorical sense (of course being sure to remember how real metaphor is!). In the Catholic Church I found the flesh and blood, no pun intended, to the ghost of the truth I had been shown in the FV community.
To be sure, I maintain to this day that the FV communities are much closer to the truth than many other protestant communities. At the same time I maintain that this is sometimes much more insidious about the partial truth the FV communities posses and teach. The apparent sacramentality of the FV communities can easily lull its parishoners into a false sense of security. Some FV communities even go so far as to employ sacramentals like the sign of the Cross and observe the Church calendar to a certain degree. Such imitation of the true Church can convince parishoners at FV communities that they are really partaking in the fullness of the Church, just without the Romish 'heresies'. After all, they are employing the practices of the early Church. They are connected to the historic doctrines moreso than most protestants. Like the mystical field in The Wizard of Oz, it is easy to fall asleep when you are so close to the Emerald City.
But what is really missing is what is really and most critically important. The REAl presence of Jesus, body and blood, soul and divinity. The REAL and unequivocal forgiveness of sins. This is what I longed for, and even supposed I had in the FV communities. But it was a continual exercise in cognitive dissonance. I was forever balancing what I knew should be happening in the sacraments with what I was being told was not happening there.
It is with great comfort that I now rest in the bosom of the true Jerusalem Above, the Mother of us all, the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, and it with a great sense of gratitude to the FV communities, Christ Church and Rev. Wilson in particular for showing me the road of the sacramental life that eventually lead me there.
And make no mistake in thinking I am a rouge convert, twisting the teachings of the FV to get where I've arrived. The ranks of Catholics from FV origins is growing by the day. Someone recently supposed on Rev. Wilson's blog that the natural destination of the FV was either to complete fragmentation or to Eastern Orthodoxy, but I maintain that, not by a natural progression in their presbyteries but by a grassroots movement among those of my and following generations, will be to the Catholic Church. FV protestants are too hardline to accept the national, transitory character of the Orthodox church. The true home of all Christians and the natural home of FV Christians, both because of their Western nature and their commitment to real truth is the Catholic Church. I pray for their reunion.
Blessings,
B
Homesick No More
Ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. - Jeremiah 6:16
Monday, August 27, 2007
On How The Federal Vision Made Me Catholic
So there's much hubbub lately about the Federal Vision controversy. The conservative reformed world is fast becoming a house divided against itself over the issues of the reality of the sacraments and what they confer upon the recipient and the real possibility of apostasy.
Having been myself a member of both a Federal Vision community (lo, I am a pharisee of pharisees coming from Christ Church itself, the very Mecca of the FV movement) and a non-FV reformed community (OPC to be precise) and now a communing Catholic (in that order) I have thought about the question a fair bit. I still keep up on the matter, though through a glass dimly, mostly because the ideas of the preachers of the FV movement were largely the ideas that lead me to be accepted into the Catholic Church.
Let me say at the outset that I still hold a great fondness for that particular set of Presbyterians in general and many of their members in specific. I am greatly encouraged to see some of their number moving the direction I have moved. Mostly, I am grieved to think, as might be the case, that I have spoken ill in broad sweeping generalizations against my brothers in those communities. If in the fervor of my conversion I spoke as to offend, I ask that you would forgive the zeal of a young man in the throws of something unimaginably larger than himself.
That said, on to the FV movement. I don't wish to deal with the particular theological contentions of the FV movement because, obviously, they are largely inherently protestant and I disagree with them because they conflict explicitly with my Catholic presuppositions. I wish to deal rather with the ethos of the movement and specifically that way of leaning into religion that I learned at Christ Church.
Over and against my non-denominational upbringing (and with much fighting against it on my part) I was taught at Christ Church and at New St. Andrews College to think, increasingly over the five years I was there, of the sacraments confected there as decidely more effective than I had ever considered them before. I was taught to believe that baptism entailed a real sort of ingrafting into Christ. I was taught to believe that the Lord's Supper made Christ somehow truly present among us in a way distinct from His ominpresence. I was taught, perhaps not in Catholic terms but in a real way, to believe that grace of a sort was given to Christians in the supper. I was most definitely taught to believe that sin would be brought to light and repentance effected by my and my neighbors' reception of the supper.
To be sure I was taught not to believe the Roman doctrine that Christ was physically present in what I received. I was taught that baptism surely did not forgive the sins of the recipient, but I was lead to believe that something spiritual and gracious was taking place in these sacraments.
I was quickly required by my father, a non-denominational pastor, to account for these things. What was this grace, this connection to Christ, this spiritual reality that I believed was present in the sacraments? As co-heirs of the reformation we could both, along with the FV pastors, be sure that whatever it was it was not justifying grace. It was not the grace that made us stand holy in Christ. This was the one thing it categorically could not be. Yet both the teaching of my pastors and the words of Scripture made me sure that it was something real, not just a memorial that made me more holy by virtue of reflection.
To further confuse the issue, there was the weekly statement of absolution that Pastor Wilson gave from the pulpit in the liturgy. We would pray a corporate prayer of confession and Pastor would tell us, in his position of authority as a minister of God, that the confessed sins of God's people were forgiven. [/font]
I clung to this statement through some of the darkest nights of my soul in my quite disreputable college days. Sometimes it was the only thing that really reassured me that God loved me and forgave me my sins, despite my continuation in them.
This statement was also quite distinct from the variation on the same theme that I received at the OPC community of which I was later a member. The statement there was more along the lines of "God, broadly speaking, forgives the sins of the elect." There was no personal reassurance that my sins were forgiven. I was substantially less assured by this practice. The same was true of my reception of the supper there.
But in all of this there was a gnawing at the back of my brain that was that indefinable nature of the grace I was receiving. If election was really the main thing, these sacraments could neither assure nor assist my journey to heaven. I knew that if I asked I would be told that my sins were not, so to speak, absolved in that statement, that it was a sign of sorts, of the forgiveness I already had. That the supper was a 'sign and seal' of the redemption that was or was not already mine.
But there I was. I had already, as a protestant, learned to lean on grace that I was simultaneously being taught could have no real effect on my eternal destiny. In my day to day life of faith, these things were the life rafts that held me afloat. These were the only places where I sensed the reality of God's grace, and yet I was being told that it was faith, not these signs that were conferring it. Yet I knew my faith to be so weak! If it was the greatness or sincerity of my faith that upheld the process, I knew myself to be damned.
I was, by various circumstances after leaving Moscow, exposed to the Catholic faith. The Catholic faith provided exactly what I was looking for, dare I say had been primed to look for. Real Grace conferred in real Sacraments. No longer did i have to flail, Luther-like, with internal existential struggles! When the priest said my sins were forgiven, they were forgiven! Just like Jesus said to the Apostles "I give you the power to forgive sins." When the priest said "This is my Body" it was His Body, broken for me! There and then! REALLY!
I had been taught for so long to lean on the reality of the sacraments in the FV community with a huge hanging caveat of "Not Really". Your sins are forgiven, though be sure to remember they've already been forgiven, this is just a sign. This is my Body, this is my Blood, but not really, just in a sort of spiritual, metaphorical sense (of course being sure to remember how real metaphor is!). In the Catholic Church I found the flesh and blood, no pun intended, to the ghost of the truth I had been shown in the FV community.
To be sure, I maintain to this day that the FV communities are much closer to the truth than many other protestant communities. At the same time I maintain that this is sometimes much more insidious about the partial truth the FV communities posses and teach. The apparent sacramentality of the FV communities can easily lull its parishoners into a false sense of security. Some FV communities even go so far as to employ sacramentals like the sign of the Cross and observe the Church calendar to a certain degree. Such imitation of the true Church can convince parishoners at FV communities that they are really partaking in the fullness of the Church, just without the Romish 'heresies'. After all, they are employing the practices of the early Church. They are connected to the historic doctrines moreso than most protestants. Like the mystical field in The Wizard of Oz, it is easy to fall asleep when you are so close to the Emerald City.
But what is really missing is what is really and most critically important. The REAl presence of Jesus, body and blood, soul and divinity. The REAL and unequivocal forgiveness of sins. This is what I longed for, and even supposed I had in the FV communities. But it was a continual exercise in cognitive dissonance. I was forever balancing what I knew should be happening in the sacraments with what I was being told was not happening there.
It is with great comfort that I now rest in the bosom of the true Jerusalem Above, the Mother of us all, the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church, and it with a great sense of gratitude to the FV communities, Christ Church and Rev. Wilson in particular for showing me the road of the sacramental life that eventually lead me there.
And make no mistake in thinking I am a rouge convert, twisting the teachings of the FV to get where I've arrived. The ranks of Catholics from FV origins is growing by the day. Someone recently supposed on Rev. Wilson's blog that the natural destination of the FV was either to complete fragmentation or to Eastern Orthodoxy, but I maintain that, not by a natural progression in their presbyteries but by a grassroots movement among those of my and following generations, will be to the Catholic Church. FV protestants are too hardline to accept the national, transitory character of the Orthodox church. The true home of all Christians and the natural home of FV Christians, both because of their Western nature and their commitment to real truth is the Catholic Church. I pray for their reunion.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Answers to Prayer
Well, there was some positive motion on the part of the presbytery on Tuesday.
The presbytery did sustain the complaints by "repenting" of its "hasty action" in finding no strong presumption of guilt in any area concerning Federal Vision as it related to TE Lawrence's views. A new investigative committee was formed, and the matter referred to that committee. I am well satisfied that the men are good and trustworthy and will diligently investigate the matter. My recollection is that they have been directed to report their findings at the next stated meeting in January.
They tone was more irenic than it had been in past meetings, and for that I am thankful. The wrath of man does not accomplish the purposes of God, and I think there's been a little (and from time to time more than a little) wrath on all sides.
The presbyter who was the object of my session's overture asking for a judicial investigation also offered testimony on the floor that he fully and without reservation subscribed to the Westminster Standards on these matters, and affirmed his agreement with the GA's Federal Vision report. He also affirmed that he believes that no reprobate person ever gets justification, and that he believes that the baptized reprobate do get forgiveness of sin in some real sense.
A motion was offered to the effect that the testimony be deemed sufficient to fulfill the requirements of BCO 31-2, and that no strong presumption of guilt should be found.
Several further questions were asked of the presbyter before the question was called and debate ceased. The motion to call the question passed, and then the motion to find no strong presumption of guilt carried and was adopted by the presbytery.
The presbytery did sustain the complaints by "repenting" of its "hasty action" in finding no strong presumption of guilt in any area concerning Federal Vision as it related to TE Lawrence's views. A new investigative committee was formed, and the matter referred to that committee. I am well satisfied that the men are good and trustworthy and will diligently investigate the matter. My recollection is that they have been directed to report their findings at the next stated meeting in January.
They tone was more irenic than it had been in past meetings, and for that I am thankful. The wrath of man does not accomplish the purposes of God, and I think there's been a little (and from time to time more than a little) wrath on all sides.
The presbyter who was the object of my session's overture asking for a judicial investigation also offered testimony on the floor that he fully and without reservation subscribed to the Westminster Standards on these matters, and affirmed his agreement with the GA's Federal Vision report. He also affirmed that he believes that no reprobate person ever gets justification, and that he believes that the baptized reprobate do get forgiveness of sin in some real sense.
A motion was offered to the effect that the testimony be deemed sufficient to fulfill the requirements of BCO 31-2, and that no strong presumption of guilt should be found.
Several further questions were asked of the presbyter before the question was called and debate ceased. The motion to call the question passed, and then the motion to find no strong presumption of guilt carried and was adopted by the presbytery.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Prayer Request
Please pray for me and for the Siouxlands Presbytery. I'm leaving in an hour to attend a called meeting of the presbytery to deal with two complaints and an overture. Our presbytery is hideously divided at this point, and much rancor has been directed at those who are "aggressively TR" and who are "causing trouble" (i.e. asking the presbytery to do its constitutional duty and investigate the views of two men who seem to hold theology outside of the bounds of our confessional standards.) We're also causing trouble by refusing to take the presbytery's "no" for a final answer.
If you want to some insight into what's going on, you can find it here and here.
If you want to some insight into what's going on, you can find it here and here.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The Decline of American Presbyterianism (The First Time)
I love my denomination. I love her fiercely. I want to protect her. I want to see her grow and flourish.
She is being slowly hollowed out by rot within. This article explains how the Presbyterian Church USA became the monstrosity that she is now. It also shows how the Presbyterian Church in America might well be taking a path that will cause her to emulate her malformed and spiritually bereft mother.
It's time for the lovers of Confessional Orthodoxy to repent for their cowardice and laziness and myopia. It's time for them to stop grumping and writing papers. It's time for them to rise up and have done with lesser things. It's time for courage.
The mushy middle needs to repent of their sloppiness and indifference. They need to think carefully about the nature of the lawful vows they took. Conflict is not a bad thing when it's done for the right reason. The children of Israel could never have taken the Promised Land without conflict. The avoidance of conflict when it's called for is culpable cowardice. It is sin.
It's time for those who are out of accord with our Standards to stop playing the role of the termite. It's time to man up and either repent and change your views or else admit that you don't belong here and peaceably withdraw. It doesn't really matter if you think you belong here. Your brethren have said your views are out of accord with our Standards. You think they've erred. I understand. Nevertheless, that is how things stand. Have some integrity. To stay is to put yourself in a position of having to lie. It is to behave dishonorably.
The Decline of American Presbyterianism
(The First Time)
A book review, with commentary, by Kevin Reed
David C. Calhoun, Princeton Seminary [vol. 2]: The Majestic Testimony (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1996); Gary North, Crossed Fingers: How the Liberals Captured the Presbyterian Church (Tyler, Texas: Institute for Christian Economics, 1996).
Last year, the present writer reviewed volume 1 of David Calhoun's history of Princeton Seminary. The first volume of Calhoun's narrative ended at a pivotal point in the history of Northern Presbyterianism: the reunion of the Old School and New School Assemblies in 1869.
Realizing that a significant part of Princeton's story (as well as the story of the Northern Presbyterianism) was yet to be told, I eagerly took up volume two of Calhoun's narrative, shortly after the book was published. Unfortunately, the second volume, The Majestic Testimony, is a major disappointment. Readers who want to know what happened after 1869, in order to gain an understanding of the demise of Princeton (and Northern Presbyterianism) will require additional sources beyond Calhoun's second volume. Therefore, we are presenting readers with a combined book review, in which we will also draw attention to another important work, Gary North's Crossed Fingers: How the Liberals Captured the Presbyterian Church.
The Missing Testimony
The leaven of ecclesiastical toleration was present within American Presbyterianism from an early date. The confessional revisions of 1787 enshrined pluralism within the standards of the church. Thus, the events which transpired after the reunion of 1869 must be seen in the wider context of growing cultural and ecclesiastical toleration of error.
Princeton Seminary represented the Old School tradition; yet the practical discernment of the Princetonians, along with the will to resist error, dissipated over time. Early Princetonians vehemently opposed Charles Finney, and his Pelagian evangelistic techniques. Nevertheless, as Calhoun relates, later Princetonians were supportive of D. L. Moody and Billy Sunday (pp. 24-26, 298-300). Early Princetonians rejected German textual criticism, but later Princetonians made concessions to "lower" textual criticism.[1]
And then there was the problem of how to react to evolution. While Charles Hodge attacked "Darwinism," he and other Presbyterian stalwarts refused to defend the six-day creation of the Genesis record; instead, they looked for ways to accommodate the biblical record to scientific speculations about the age of the earth.
In the last half of the 19th century, there was a remarkable declension among Northern Presbyterians concerning denominational distinctives of polity. Issues pertaining to worship were not generally a topic of discussion after the passing of Samuel Miller. With respect to Presbyterian government, the Northern Assembly followed Hodge in his erroneous notions on ecclesiastical polity; and some of these views laid the foundation for the centralized bureaucracy which the liberals used to capture the denomination after the turn of the century.
Many sad facts are recorded in Calhoun's narrative. The problem is that the author presents some of these facts in a positive vein; or else, he fails to provide an analysis showing how these developments contributed to the decline of Princeton. As his account draws to a conclusion, the final defense of the Princetonians is that the liberals ought to leave their school alone, so that it can survive as the last institutional representative of the Old School tradition. Now that's pluralism with a vengeance: please don't disturb our seminary, so that we can preserve a living relic of what the church used to believe.
Is this a majestic testimony? A more accurate subtitle would be The Missing Testimony.
Broken Vows, Crossed Fingers, and Subversion
Enter Gary North, the controversial reconstuctionist author. If you really want to know what happened to Northern Presbyterianism (and Princeton Seminary), Gary North's chronicle is the work to consult for a detailed account. His book is over 1000 pages long, and with good reason.[2] North is not content with a superficial survey of the theological broadsides of the time. He looks behind the scenes to find out what liberal Presbyterians were doing to deliberately undermine the theological standards of the church. North analyzes the weaknesses of the Old School Presbyterians to see why they lost the battle for the church. North also demonstrates how struggles within the Presbyterian church were part of the larger culture wars for American society from the mid-1800s to the mid-1900s.
Perhaps we should begin with an explanation of the title of the book Crossed Fingers. In a childish manner, men have often broken a promise by saying that their pledge did not count, because they had their fingers crossed when they made the promise. In a similar fashion, Presbyterian ministers have often taken ordination vows to uphold the Westminster Standards, but they have resorted to mental reservation or evasion to dilute the meaning of this solemn oath.[3]
North points to a compelling fact: during the final struggle for control of the Presbyterian Church, all parties had their fingers crossed, because no group not even the Old School maintained an unreserved commitment to the doctrinal standards of the church. This meant that the battle had to be fought on other grounds, because no sanctions would be brought against unorthodox ministers, on the basis of deviation from the confession or catechisms of the church.
North's account divides American Presbyterians into three categories: (1.) judicialists, who defended the objective and doctrinal nature of the Christian faith; (2.) experientialists, who were less concerned about doctrine, provided a man exhibited an experiential profession of Christianity; (3.) power religionists, who wanted to harness the church to serve the interests of liberalism. The characteristics of each group are not completely exclusive: both judicialists and experientialists upheld the inerrancy of scripture; while many modernists could testify to moving religious experiences in their lives. The important factor is to see how each group evaluated the situation in light of their preeminent commitment to their doctrinal priorities, or their experience, or their modernism.
By the mid-1800s, three theological factions were visible within American Presbyterianism: (1.) the Old School, with its characteristic emphasis on doctrine and scholarship; (2.) the New School, with its emphasis on experience, heavily influenced by Arminian evangelism; (3.) religious modernists, who were undermining the authority of the Bible. By the end of the conflict, in the early 1900s, these groups were typified by the familiar labels of Calvinists, fundamentalists, and liberals.
North illustrates how the reunion of 1869 was essentially a compromise by the Old School. By reuniting with the New School, the Old School made it impossible for Calvinistic doctrine to be enforced in the church. On the principle of the "lowest common denominator," the New School would, in practical terms, set the standards of enforcement in the church.
Now, one characteristic of the experiential party was their aversion to conflict. Since their desire was to get on with the mission of church with a minimum of fuss over doctrinal precision, they did not want to be troubled by the discord inherent in heresy trials. Thus, the newly united church rarely took notice of the subversive activities among the denomination's seminary professors. It took an infraction of grave proportions, stated in an inflammatory manner, to elicit judicial action in the church. The case of Charles Briggs was notable example of how far a man could go, in denying the doctrine of scripture, before the church would take decisive action.
In the case of Briggs, even the Old School was guilty of foot-dragging.[4] The Princeton men had failed to act decisively against Briggs, when his aberrations were early manifest. That failure to act decisively was an indication that the war was already lost.
North correctly sees that the war was lost on the basis of judicial authority. The outcome turned upon the inability of the orthodox party to impose negative sanctions upon heretics. North observes that the tactical error of the Old School was to allow issues to devolve into merely academic disputes conducted in theological journals.
The academic cast of the Old School played itself out in a predictable manner: "The conservatives were content to accept the language of orthodoxy rather than substance. The liberals have used this blindness on the part of conservatives to their own advantage." "The comforting presence of the Westminster Confession and its two catechisms as polished antiques in the denomination's local prayer closets served as salve for many conservative consciences," even though the confessional standards had been "compromised into institutional irrelevance" (pp. 774, 779, 775).
In a similar fashion today, the stricter "confessionalists" in the PCA engage in theological debates with heterodox opponents within the denomination, but they take no substantial judicial action in these cases. There is an endless series of complaints, newsletters, and magazine articles. But at the end of the day, what good is another study paper approved by a presbytery, or another report by an assembly study committee? "There is no new thing under the sun," says Solomon (Eccl. 1:9).[5]
Crossed Fingers illustrates numerous problems connected to seminary training, such as the inordinate influence of seminary professors, and the trouble created when seminaries are insulated from the effective control of the church courts. When you combine these factors with a requirement of seminary training for ministers (as modern Presbyterians do),[6] you have a prescription for disaster.
North examines the inherent problem created when ministerial candidates are initially required to have a degree from an accredited university. In other words, before a man even reaches seminary, he is expected to be well-schooled in the academic humanism of our culture. Why should this be a requirement for the ministry? The goal for an educated ministry is equated with a ministry of academic degrees.
The trend toward formal academic training led to another development within American Presbyterianism: the declining significance of presbyterial exams. A seminary degree was virtually a passport into the ministry. There was a desperate need to guard the gate into the ministry at the presbytery level. Yet, the Old School Presbyterians found themselves powerless to block the entry of heterodox men onto the rolls of the presbyteries (pp. 299-302).
Part of North's keen analysis is in showing how the modernists were able to use the New School experientialists against the more doctrinally precise members of the Old School. It is a maxim of politics (ecclesiastical or otherwise) that the soft middle constitutes the swing vote: "the large, less committed middle will decide which way the organization goes" (p. 646). As the vast majority of men in the church became largely indifferent to confessional dogma, they were more interested in the carrying out the work of the church, and feared getting bogged down in heresy trials and other unproductive tasks. This aversion to controversy shielded the modernists from judicial action.
Moreover, by the end of the fight, in the 1920s and 1930s, there were many orthodox men who saw that they no longer had the votes to win in the church courts. Instead of fighting from the high ground of principle, many "conservatives" capitulated to the idea of an "inclusive" church, and ceased to take a meaningful stand against error. When J. Gresham Machen left the denomination to form a more orthodox church, very few ministers went with him. Why?
To understand the latter capitulation, North makes a brief analysis of the ministerial pension plan, to illustrate how financial pressures were brought to bear upon ministers who contemplated leaving the denomination. Of course, ministers of the gospel are not supposed to base their actions inordinately upon financial rewards or punishments; but the reality of the situation is that they often do. Looking among "conservative" Presbyterian denominations today, one may ask, "Why don't the men who are really reformed take a stronger stand?" In private conversation, you may be told the answer: if such men become too vocal (even without seeking judicial action against heretics), they will lose the esteem of their colleagues, forfeit their pastorates, and, in effect, be blacklisted. "They must provide for their families," you see. Salary, benefits, reputation, and retirement will often eclipse theological commitments.
North's willingness to "follow the money" also reveals some fascinating correlations between the battles within the Presbyterian church and the broader conflicts within the American culture. He shows how money from outside the denomination was used to fund subversives within the denomination. This was not an isolated case. The social engineers of the day felt it was their duty to reshape the entire society to reflect modernist ideals. For liberals, the Presbyterian church was one battlefield among many.
Ultimately, as Gary North illustrates, the orthodox Presbyterians did not have an adequate battle plan. The Old School conservatives labored merely as negative reactionaries to the agenda set by their opponents. This strictly defensive posture is, as North says, "surrender on the installment plan" (p. 840).
Now it's time for a couple disclaimers. In spite of furnishing a wealth of data, and a very insightful analysis, North's book is not without some problems of its own. The volume is written with Ray Sutton's covenantal model as a large template for the parameters of the analysis; considering North's bravado that Sutton has "cracked the code of the Bible's covenant structure," readers will understand that this perspective colors the author's conclusions.
Likewise, North's advice for injecting episcopacy into Presbyterian polity is without adequate foundation. He misunderstands the role of the old Scottish superintendents, which is not surprising, given the only source referenced for this suggestion (pp. 933).
The superintendents were originally itinerant preachers whose primary duty was to plant churches in rural communities where there was no regular ministry. The superintendents were subject to the authority of the church courts, and they were required to preach regularly in the regions placed under their care. They were specifically contrasted to the "idle bishops" that had previously plagued the Scottish church; hence, the superintendents were not allowed to stay in one place for more than a month, until they passed throughout the entire bounds of their charge. In short, they were preachers without a regular congregation home missionaries, if you will on the same level of authority with other ministers.[7]
After the initial success of the Protestant reformation in Scotland, enterprising politicians sought to reintroduce various forms of prelacy, in order to gain further control of the church (and church funds).[8] The first attempt came in 1572, when "ministers who were so mean as to accept of bishoprics under this disgraceful and simonaical paction, exposed themselves to general contempt, and were called, by way of derision, tulchan bishops a tulchan being a calf's skin stuffed with straw, which the country people set up beside the cow to induce here to give her milk more freely."[9]
The "Second Episcopacy," to which North refers directly (p. 933), was during the reign of Charles II: a period roughly equivalent to the "killing times," in which the Covenanters were ruthlessly persecuted. This is a strange precedent to cite in discussing recommendations for ecclesiastical management, unless one wishes to emulate the despotic policies of Archbishop James Sharp.[10]
North has rightly raised the issue of disingenuous subscription to the confessional standards. Upon reflection, I recalled a previous experience when Mr. North and I attended the same church many years ago in Tyler. At that time, our local congregation professed adherence to the original version of the Westminster Standards; yet the minister and elders introduced liturgical practices of worship which flatly contradicted confessional teaching.[11]
As North has pointed out, this is an issue of integrity. The liberals lied when subscribing the confession, because they believed in situational ethics. It is more difficult to grasp how others can justify their duplicity, when they profess to believe in the abiding standards of the law of God, such as the ninth commandment.
North's book raises important ramifications for Presbyterians who wish to construct a genuinely reformed denomination. Among the most important factors are the following.
(1.) A reformed denomination must be structured differently than the centralized models of American Presbyterianism. Centralized bureaucracies (especially church boards) allow for an easy takeover by a heterodox party. Church boards, colleges, and seminaries are ususally insulated from appropriate review and control by the courts of the church.
(2.) There is a need to clarify the role of the confessional standards, especially as regards elders and ministers. In what ways are the creeds of the church binding upon church officers and members? Will discipline be administered to those who deviate from the confessional standards? Additionally, North notes the difficulty of constructing a mechanism for confessional amendment,[12] when the confessional standards are simultaneously enforced with negative sanctions. Any officer who teaches contrary to the confession of the church should be removed from office. If that is the case, what process can be adopted for legitimate confessional revision, since anyone who expresses a proposal for revision invites negative sanctions against himself?
(3.) Communicant membership should not automatically carry with it the right to vote in congregational meetings. In many "conservative" American Presbyterian churches, the right to vote is extended even to youthful members (teenagers) who have been admitted as communicants; and attempts by congregations to institute age restrictions have been overturned by higher church courts. In such an environment of ultra-democracy, any effort to limit voting will be met with resistance. Nevertheless, voting is an exercise of authority, and members who exercise the power to vote should be obligated to uphold the standards of the church.
These are some tough issues which contemporary Presbyterians need to face. A study of earlier American Presbyterianism can help in this respect, if men are wise enough to learn from negative examples which serve as beacons to avoid dangerous waters. North's book could be especially helpful on this count, if members of the PCA and OPC took seriously the tell-tale signs of the past, in order to recognize the pitfalls of the present.
Unfortunately, there is a tendency on the part of many "conservative" Presbyterians to look back with fondness upon 19th-century Presbyterianism, as if it was a golden age of Presbyterianism. It wasn't it wasn't even close to it. It was an era of widespread apostasy. May contemporary Presbyterians avoid the detours and traps of the past.
Notes
1. Contrast J.A. Alexander's attitude in his commentary on Mark, with Warfield's later support of the Wescott-Hort text. Alexander dismisses textual critics of Mark 16 for their reliance upon the "Vatican manuscript" and "German ingenuity," (Commentary on Mark (1858; rpt. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1984), p. 438. [In a related vein, in support of the traditional Greek text, see Robert L. Dabney's essays on "The Doctrinal Various Readings of the New Testament Greek," and "The Revised Version of the New Testament," in Discussions, vol. 1 (1890), pp. 35-398.]
2. The extraordinary length of the volume is justified, in spite of the fact that the author takes the long road for the journey. There is much repetition in the analysis, from one section to another; and had some of these redundancies been eliminated, the book might have been shortened (say to about 900 pages) without loss of content. Nevertheless, "repetition is the mother of learning:" a maxim that the author doubtless holds in high estimation.
3. For a book-length study on the art of theological equivocation, see Perez Zagorin, Ways of Lying: Dissimulation, Persecution, and Conformity in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1990). The present writer has published a brief review of Zagorin's book: "Religious Dissemblers and Theological Liars" (reprinted article; Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1997).
4. Respecting the Briggs case, Calhoun observes: 'Many in the church were tired of the "gentlemenly" tactics of Princeton Seminary and wanted a more aggressive approach to the "Briggs problem"' (Calhoun, p. 136).
5. There is little wonder that even the more rigorous parties in contemporary Presbyterian denominations do not wish to discuss discipline as a mark of the true church.
6. It should be remembered that even among American Presbyterians, seminary training had not always been required. Prior to the establishment of Princeton Seminary in 1812, ministers were trained in a tutorial manner, in apprenticeship with local pastors. The seminaries were formed to augment the resources available for training young men for the ministry, but initially the seminaries were not viewed as an exclusive means of pastoral training. Nevertheless, within a century, the seminary system had coopted the former methods of training. James Henley Thornwell had raised objections to this trend in 1847, but his plea fell on deaf ears; see "The Call of the Minister," pp. 27-28 in volume 4 of Thornwell's Collected Writings (1875; rpt. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1974).
7. See the First Book of Discipline (1560) of the church of Scotland, the sections on superintendents under the fifth head, concerning the provision for ministers. A newly-typeset, looseleaf edition of this document is found in The First and Second Books of Discipline (rpt. Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1993); see pp. 46-55 for pertinent remarks respecting superintendents
8. It is interesting that the advocates of episcopacy in Scotland were early proponents of the kind of power religion which Gary North so sternly criticizes throughout his book. Near the end of Knox's life, the Scottish reformer received a letter from Theodore Beza in which Beza remarks, "This also, my Knox, which is almost patent to our very eyes, I would remind yourself and the other brethren, that as Bishops brought forth the Papacy, so will false Bishops (the relics of Popery) bring in Epicurism into the world. Let those who devise the safety of the Church avoid this pestilence, and when in the process of time you shall have subdued that plague in Scotland, do not, I pray you, ever admit it again, however it may flatter by the pretence of preserving unity, which deceived even many of the best of those of former times. ["Theodore Beza to John Knox (12 April 1572), in The Works of John Knox (David Laing, ed.; Edinburgh: James Thin, 1895), vol . 6, p. 614.]
9. Thomas M'Crie [the younger], The Story of the Scottish Church (1874; rpt. Glasgow: Free Presbyterian Pubns., 1988), pp. 63-64.
10. A political opportunist, Sharp was universally despised in Scotland. He was assassinated in 1679 by a band of Presbyterians who were determined to stop Sharp's persecutions, as well as throw off the yoke of prelacy.
11. James Jordan was a leading influence in this movement toward Anglo-Catholic forms of worship; nevertheless, he could not have implemented such measures without the consent of the session. (See my earlier criticisms of Jordan and the Tylerites in The Canterbury Tales: An Extended Review and Commentary Based Upon the Geneva Papers (1984; rpt. Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1989); note pp. 27-28). The fact that Anglo-Catholic worship is presently being introduced within churches professing Presbyterian principles illustrates that crossed fingers are found in diverse quarters from modernists, to "evangelicals," to reconstructionists. Mr. North has performed a valuable service by calling attention to the disingenuous nature of confessional subscription within contemporary reformed churches.
12. The idea of confessional amendments is often taboo among strict Presbyterians, because we live in an age of great apostasy. Among those who hold the Westminster Standards in high esteem, there is an understandable fear that, with contemporary hostilities toward doctrinal precision, any alterations will merely undermine the orthodoxy of the Standards. To date, American Presbyterian confessional revisions have embraced pluralism and softened the Confession's stand against the papacy; the revision of 1903 opened the door to universalism.
Nevertheless, the concept of confessional revision cannot be dismissed entirely. The Scottish Confession of 1560 acknowledges an openness to correction in its Preface, where it states, "if any man will note in this our confession any article or sentence repugning to God's holy word, that it would please him of his gentleness, and for Christian charity's sake, to admonish us of the same in writing; and we, of our honour and fidelity, do promise unto him satisfaction from the mouth of God (that is, from his holy scriptures), or else reformation of that which he shall prove to be amiss."
That there have been proper confessional amendments, by way of addition, is an indisputable fact. When the Westminster Standards were added to the other Scottish creeds, the purpose was not to repeal the earlier creeds, but to expand the testimony of the church. As new conflicts and heresies arise, it is inevitable that the church will supplement her confessional testimony.
Copyright ©1997 by Kevin Reed
Presbyterian Heritage Publications
P.O. Box 180922
Dallas, Texas 75218
She is being slowly hollowed out by rot within. This article explains how the Presbyterian Church USA became the monstrosity that she is now. It also shows how the Presbyterian Church in America might well be taking a path that will cause her to emulate her malformed and spiritually bereft mother.
It's time for the lovers of Confessional Orthodoxy to repent for their cowardice and laziness and myopia. It's time for them to stop grumping and writing papers. It's time for them to rise up and have done with lesser things. It's time for courage.
The mushy middle needs to repent of their sloppiness and indifference. They need to think carefully about the nature of the lawful vows they took. Conflict is not a bad thing when it's done for the right reason. The children of Israel could never have taken the Promised Land without conflict. The avoidance of conflict when it's called for is culpable cowardice. It is sin.
It's time for those who are out of accord with our Standards to stop playing the role of the termite. It's time to man up and either repent and change your views or else admit that you don't belong here and peaceably withdraw. It doesn't really matter if you think you belong here. Your brethren have said your views are out of accord with our Standards. You think they've erred. I understand. Nevertheless, that is how things stand. Have some integrity. To stay is to put yourself in a position of having to lie. It is to behave dishonorably.
The Decline of American Presbyterianism
(The First Time)
A book review, with commentary, by Kevin Reed
David C. Calhoun, Princeton Seminary [vol. 2]: The Majestic Testimony (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1996); Gary North, Crossed Fingers: How the Liberals Captured the Presbyterian Church (Tyler, Texas: Institute for Christian Economics, 1996).
Last year, the present writer reviewed volume 1 of David Calhoun's history of Princeton Seminary. The first volume of Calhoun's narrative ended at a pivotal point in the history of Northern Presbyterianism: the reunion of the Old School and New School Assemblies in 1869.
Realizing that a significant part of Princeton's story (as well as the story of the Northern Presbyterianism) was yet to be told, I eagerly took up volume two of Calhoun's narrative, shortly after the book was published. Unfortunately, the second volume, The Majestic Testimony, is a major disappointment. Readers who want to know what happened after 1869, in order to gain an understanding of the demise of Princeton (and Northern Presbyterianism) will require additional sources beyond Calhoun's second volume. Therefore, we are presenting readers with a combined book review, in which we will also draw attention to another important work, Gary North's Crossed Fingers: How the Liberals Captured the Presbyterian Church.
The Missing Testimony
The leaven of ecclesiastical toleration was present within American Presbyterianism from an early date. The confessional revisions of 1787 enshrined pluralism within the standards of the church. Thus, the events which transpired after the reunion of 1869 must be seen in the wider context of growing cultural and ecclesiastical toleration of error.
Princeton Seminary represented the Old School tradition; yet the practical discernment of the Princetonians, along with the will to resist error, dissipated over time. Early Princetonians vehemently opposed Charles Finney, and his Pelagian evangelistic techniques. Nevertheless, as Calhoun relates, later Princetonians were supportive of D. L. Moody and Billy Sunday (pp. 24-26, 298-300). Early Princetonians rejected German textual criticism, but later Princetonians made concessions to "lower" textual criticism.[1]
And then there was the problem of how to react to evolution. While Charles Hodge attacked "Darwinism," he and other Presbyterian stalwarts refused to defend the six-day creation of the Genesis record; instead, they looked for ways to accommodate the biblical record to scientific speculations about the age of the earth.
In the last half of the 19th century, there was a remarkable declension among Northern Presbyterians concerning denominational distinctives of polity. Issues pertaining to worship were not generally a topic of discussion after the passing of Samuel Miller. With respect to Presbyterian government, the Northern Assembly followed Hodge in his erroneous notions on ecclesiastical polity; and some of these views laid the foundation for the centralized bureaucracy which the liberals used to capture the denomination after the turn of the century.
Many sad facts are recorded in Calhoun's narrative. The problem is that the author presents some of these facts in a positive vein; or else, he fails to provide an analysis showing how these developments contributed to the decline of Princeton. As his account draws to a conclusion, the final defense of the Princetonians is that the liberals ought to leave their school alone, so that it can survive as the last institutional representative of the Old School tradition. Now that's pluralism with a vengeance: please don't disturb our seminary, so that we can preserve a living relic of what the church used to believe.
Is this a majestic testimony? A more accurate subtitle would be The Missing Testimony.
Broken Vows, Crossed Fingers, and Subversion
Enter Gary North, the controversial reconstuctionist author. If you really want to know what happened to Northern Presbyterianism (and Princeton Seminary), Gary North's chronicle is the work to consult for a detailed account. His book is over 1000 pages long, and with good reason.[2] North is not content with a superficial survey of the theological broadsides of the time. He looks behind the scenes to find out what liberal Presbyterians were doing to deliberately undermine the theological standards of the church. North analyzes the weaknesses of the Old School Presbyterians to see why they lost the battle for the church. North also demonstrates how struggles within the Presbyterian church were part of the larger culture wars for American society from the mid-1800s to the mid-1900s.
Perhaps we should begin with an explanation of the title of the book Crossed Fingers. In a childish manner, men have often broken a promise by saying that their pledge did not count, because they had their fingers crossed when they made the promise. In a similar fashion, Presbyterian ministers have often taken ordination vows to uphold the Westminster Standards, but they have resorted to mental reservation or evasion to dilute the meaning of this solemn oath.[3]
North points to a compelling fact: during the final struggle for control of the Presbyterian Church, all parties had their fingers crossed, because no group not even the Old School maintained an unreserved commitment to the doctrinal standards of the church. This meant that the battle had to be fought on other grounds, because no sanctions would be brought against unorthodox ministers, on the basis of deviation from the confession or catechisms of the church.
North's account divides American Presbyterians into three categories: (1.) judicialists, who defended the objective and doctrinal nature of the Christian faith; (2.) experientialists, who were less concerned about doctrine, provided a man exhibited an experiential profession of Christianity; (3.) power religionists, who wanted to harness the church to serve the interests of liberalism. The characteristics of each group are not completely exclusive: both judicialists and experientialists upheld the inerrancy of scripture; while many modernists could testify to moving religious experiences in their lives. The important factor is to see how each group evaluated the situation in light of their preeminent commitment to their doctrinal priorities, or their experience, or their modernism.
By the mid-1800s, three theological factions were visible within American Presbyterianism: (1.) the Old School, with its characteristic emphasis on doctrine and scholarship; (2.) the New School, with its emphasis on experience, heavily influenced by Arminian evangelism; (3.) religious modernists, who were undermining the authority of the Bible. By the end of the conflict, in the early 1900s, these groups were typified by the familiar labels of Calvinists, fundamentalists, and liberals.
North illustrates how the reunion of 1869 was essentially a compromise by the Old School. By reuniting with the New School, the Old School made it impossible for Calvinistic doctrine to be enforced in the church. On the principle of the "lowest common denominator," the New School would, in practical terms, set the standards of enforcement in the church.
Now, one characteristic of the experiential party was their aversion to conflict. Since their desire was to get on with the mission of church with a minimum of fuss over doctrinal precision, they did not want to be troubled by the discord inherent in heresy trials. Thus, the newly united church rarely took notice of the subversive activities among the denomination's seminary professors. It took an infraction of grave proportions, stated in an inflammatory manner, to elicit judicial action in the church. The case of Charles Briggs was notable example of how far a man could go, in denying the doctrine of scripture, before the church would take decisive action.
In the case of Briggs, even the Old School was guilty of foot-dragging.[4] The Princeton men had failed to act decisively against Briggs, when his aberrations were early manifest. That failure to act decisively was an indication that the war was already lost.
North correctly sees that the war was lost on the basis of judicial authority. The outcome turned upon the inability of the orthodox party to impose negative sanctions upon heretics. North observes that the tactical error of the Old School was to allow issues to devolve into merely academic disputes conducted in theological journals.
The academic cast of the Old School played itself out in a predictable manner: "The conservatives were content to accept the language of orthodoxy rather than substance. The liberals have used this blindness on the part of conservatives to their own advantage." "The comforting presence of the Westminster Confession and its two catechisms as polished antiques in the denomination's local prayer closets served as salve for many conservative consciences," even though the confessional standards had been "compromised into institutional irrelevance" (pp. 774, 779, 775).
In a similar fashion today, the stricter "confessionalists" in the PCA engage in theological debates with heterodox opponents within the denomination, but they take no substantial judicial action in these cases. There is an endless series of complaints, newsletters, and magazine articles. But at the end of the day, what good is another study paper approved by a presbytery, or another report by an assembly study committee? "There is no new thing under the sun," says Solomon (Eccl. 1:9).[5]
Crossed Fingers illustrates numerous problems connected to seminary training, such as the inordinate influence of seminary professors, and the trouble created when seminaries are insulated from the effective control of the church courts. When you combine these factors with a requirement of seminary training for ministers (as modern Presbyterians do),[6] you have a prescription for disaster.
North examines the inherent problem created when ministerial candidates are initially required to have a degree from an accredited university. In other words, before a man even reaches seminary, he is expected to be well-schooled in the academic humanism of our culture. Why should this be a requirement for the ministry? The goal for an educated ministry is equated with a ministry of academic degrees.
The trend toward formal academic training led to another development within American Presbyterianism: the declining significance of presbyterial exams. A seminary degree was virtually a passport into the ministry. There was a desperate need to guard the gate into the ministry at the presbytery level. Yet, the Old School Presbyterians found themselves powerless to block the entry of heterodox men onto the rolls of the presbyteries (pp. 299-302).
Part of North's keen analysis is in showing how the modernists were able to use the New School experientialists against the more doctrinally precise members of the Old School. It is a maxim of politics (ecclesiastical or otherwise) that the soft middle constitutes the swing vote: "the large, less committed middle will decide which way the organization goes" (p. 646). As the vast majority of men in the church became largely indifferent to confessional dogma, they were more interested in the carrying out the work of the church, and feared getting bogged down in heresy trials and other unproductive tasks. This aversion to controversy shielded the modernists from judicial action.
Moreover, by the end of the fight, in the 1920s and 1930s, there were many orthodox men who saw that they no longer had the votes to win in the church courts. Instead of fighting from the high ground of principle, many "conservatives" capitulated to the idea of an "inclusive" church, and ceased to take a meaningful stand against error. When J. Gresham Machen left the denomination to form a more orthodox church, very few ministers went with him. Why?
To understand the latter capitulation, North makes a brief analysis of the ministerial pension plan, to illustrate how financial pressures were brought to bear upon ministers who contemplated leaving the denomination. Of course, ministers of the gospel are not supposed to base their actions inordinately upon financial rewards or punishments; but the reality of the situation is that they often do. Looking among "conservative" Presbyterian denominations today, one may ask, "Why don't the men who are really reformed take a stronger stand?" In private conversation, you may be told the answer: if such men become too vocal (even without seeking judicial action against heretics), they will lose the esteem of their colleagues, forfeit their pastorates, and, in effect, be blacklisted. "They must provide for their families," you see. Salary, benefits, reputation, and retirement will often eclipse theological commitments.
North's willingness to "follow the money" also reveals some fascinating correlations between the battles within the Presbyterian church and the broader conflicts within the American culture. He shows how money from outside the denomination was used to fund subversives within the denomination. This was not an isolated case. The social engineers of the day felt it was their duty to reshape the entire society to reflect modernist ideals. For liberals, the Presbyterian church was one battlefield among many.
Ultimately, as Gary North illustrates, the orthodox Presbyterians did not have an adequate battle plan. The Old School conservatives labored merely as negative reactionaries to the agenda set by their opponents. This strictly defensive posture is, as North says, "surrender on the installment plan" (p. 840).
Now it's time for a couple disclaimers. In spite of furnishing a wealth of data, and a very insightful analysis, North's book is not without some problems of its own. The volume is written with Ray Sutton's covenantal model as a large template for the parameters of the analysis; considering North's bravado that Sutton has "cracked the code of the Bible's covenant structure," readers will understand that this perspective colors the author's conclusions.
Likewise, North's advice for injecting episcopacy into Presbyterian polity is without adequate foundation. He misunderstands the role of the old Scottish superintendents, which is not surprising, given the only source referenced for this suggestion (pp. 933).
The superintendents were originally itinerant preachers whose primary duty was to plant churches in rural communities where there was no regular ministry. The superintendents were subject to the authority of the church courts, and they were required to preach regularly in the regions placed under their care. They were specifically contrasted to the "idle bishops" that had previously plagued the Scottish church; hence, the superintendents were not allowed to stay in one place for more than a month, until they passed throughout the entire bounds of their charge. In short, they were preachers without a regular congregation home missionaries, if you will on the same level of authority with other ministers.[7]
After the initial success of the Protestant reformation in Scotland, enterprising politicians sought to reintroduce various forms of prelacy, in order to gain further control of the church (and church funds).[8] The first attempt came in 1572, when "ministers who were so mean as to accept of bishoprics under this disgraceful and simonaical paction, exposed themselves to general contempt, and were called, by way of derision, tulchan bishops a tulchan being a calf's skin stuffed with straw, which the country people set up beside the cow to induce here to give her milk more freely."[9]
The "Second Episcopacy," to which North refers directly (p. 933), was during the reign of Charles II: a period roughly equivalent to the "killing times," in which the Covenanters were ruthlessly persecuted. This is a strange precedent to cite in discussing recommendations for ecclesiastical management, unless one wishes to emulate the despotic policies of Archbishop James Sharp.[10]
North has rightly raised the issue of disingenuous subscription to the confessional standards. Upon reflection, I recalled a previous experience when Mr. North and I attended the same church many years ago in Tyler. At that time, our local congregation professed adherence to the original version of the Westminster Standards; yet the minister and elders introduced liturgical practices of worship which flatly contradicted confessional teaching.[11]
As North has pointed out, this is an issue of integrity. The liberals lied when subscribing the confession, because they believed in situational ethics. It is more difficult to grasp how others can justify their duplicity, when they profess to believe in the abiding standards of the law of God, such as the ninth commandment.
North's book raises important ramifications for Presbyterians who wish to construct a genuinely reformed denomination. Among the most important factors are the following.
(1.) A reformed denomination must be structured differently than the centralized models of American Presbyterianism. Centralized bureaucracies (especially church boards) allow for an easy takeover by a heterodox party. Church boards, colleges, and seminaries are ususally insulated from appropriate review and control by the courts of the church.
(2.) There is a need to clarify the role of the confessional standards, especially as regards elders and ministers. In what ways are the creeds of the church binding upon church officers and members? Will discipline be administered to those who deviate from the confessional standards? Additionally, North notes the difficulty of constructing a mechanism for confessional amendment,[12] when the confessional standards are simultaneously enforced with negative sanctions. Any officer who teaches contrary to the confession of the church should be removed from office. If that is the case, what process can be adopted for legitimate confessional revision, since anyone who expresses a proposal for revision invites negative sanctions against himself?
(3.) Communicant membership should not automatically carry with it the right to vote in congregational meetings. In many "conservative" American Presbyterian churches, the right to vote is extended even to youthful members (teenagers) who have been admitted as communicants; and attempts by congregations to institute age restrictions have been overturned by higher church courts. In such an environment of ultra-democracy, any effort to limit voting will be met with resistance. Nevertheless, voting is an exercise of authority, and members who exercise the power to vote should be obligated to uphold the standards of the church.
These are some tough issues which contemporary Presbyterians need to face. A study of earlier American Presbyterianism can help in this respect, if men are wise enough to learn from negative examples which serve as beacons to avoid dangerous waters. North's book could be especially helpful on this count, if members of the PCA and OPC took seriously the tell-tale signs of the past, in order to recognize the pitfalls of the present.
Unfortunately, there is a tendency on the part of many "conservative" Presbyterians to look back with fondness upon 19th-century Presbyterianism, as if it was a golden age of Presbyterianism. It wasn't it wasn't even close to it. It was an era of widespread apostasy. May contemporary Presbyterians avoid the detours and traps of the past.
Notes
1. Contrast J.A. Alexander's attitude in his commentary on Mark, with Warfield's later support of the Wescott-Hort text. Alexander dismisses textual critics of Mark 16 for their reliance upon the "Vatican manuscript" and "German ingenuity," (Commentary on Mark (1858; rpt. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1984), p. 438. [In a related vein, in support of the traditional Greek text, see Robert L. Dabney's essays on "The Doctrinal Various Readings of the New Testament Greek," and "The Revised Version of the New Testament," in Discussions, vol. 1 (1890), pp. 35-398.]
2. The extraordinary length of the volume is justified, in spite of the fact that the author takes the long road for the journey. There is much repetition in the analysis, from one section to another; and had some of these redundancies been eliminated, the book might have been shortened (say to about 900 pages) without loss of content. Nevertheless, "repetition is the mother of learning:" a maxim that the author doubtless holds in high estimation.
3. For a book-length study on the art of theological equivocation, see Perez Zagorin, Ways of Lying: Dissimulation, Persecution, and Conformity in Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1990). The present writer has published a brief review of Zagorin's book: "Religious Dissemblers and Theological Liars" (reprinted article; Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1997).
4. Respecting the Briggs case, Calhoun observes: 'Many in the church were tired of the "gentlemenly" tactics of Princeton Seminary and wanted a more aggressive approach to the "Briggs problem"' (Calhoun, p. 136).
5. There is little wonder that even the more rigorous parties in contemporary Presbyterian denominations do not wish to discuss discipline as a mark of the true church.
6. It should be remembered that even among American Presbyterians, seminary training had not always been required. Prior to the establishment of Princeton Seminary in 1812, ministers were trained in a tutorial manner, in apprenticeship with local pastors. The seminaries were formed to augment the resources available for training young men for the ministry, but initially the seminaries were not viewed as an exclusive means of pastoral training. Nevertheless, within a century, the seminary system had coopted the former methods of training. James Henley Thornwell had raised objections to this trend in 1847, but his plea fell on deaf ears; see "The Call of the Minister," pp. 27-28 in volume 4 of Thornwell's Collected Writings (1875; rpt. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1974).
7. See the First Book of Discipline (1560) of the church of Scotland, the sections on superintendents under the fifth head, concerning the provision for ministers. A newly-typeset, looseleaf edition of this document is found in The First and Second Books of Discipline (rpt. Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1993); see pp. 46-55 for pertinent remarks respecting superintendents
8. It is interesting that the advocates of episcopacy in Scotland were early proponents of the kind of power religion which Gary North so sternly criticizes throughout his book. Near the end of Knox's life, the Scottish reformer received a letter from Theodore Beza in which Beza remarks, "This also, my Knox, which is almost patent to our very eyes, I would remind yourself and the other brethren, that as Bishops brought forth the Papacy, so will false Bishops (the relics of Popery) bring in Epicurism into the world. Let those who devise the safety of the Church avoid this pestilence, and when in the process of time you shall have subdued that plague in Scotland, do not, I pray you, ever admit it again, however it may flatter by the pretence of preserving unity, which deceived even many of the best of those of former times. ["Theodore Beza to John Knox (12 April 1572), in The Works of John Knox (David Laing, ed.; Edinburgh: James Thin, 1895), vol . 6, p. 614.]
9. Thomas M'Crie [the younger], The Story of the Scottish Church (1874; rpt. Glasgow: Free Presbyterian Pubns., 1988), pp. 63-64.
10. A political opportunist, Sharp was universally despised in Scotland. He was assassinated in 1679 by a band of Presbyterians who were determined to stop Sharp's persecutions, as well as throw off the yoke of prelacy.
11. James Jordan was a leading influence in this movement toward Anglo-Catholic forms of worship; nevertheless, he could not have implemented such measures without the consent of the session. (See my earlier criticisms of Jordan and the Tylerites in The Canterbury Tales: An Extended Review and Commentary Based Upon the Geneva Papers (1984; rpt. Dallas: Presbyterian Heritage, 1989); note pp. 27-28). The fact that Anglo-Catholic worship is presently being introduced within churches professing Presbyterian principles illustrates that crossed fingers are found in diverse quarters from modernists, to "evangelicals," to reconstructionists. Mr. North has performed a valuable service by calling attention to the disingenuous nature of confessional subscription within contemporary reformed churches.
12. The idea of confessional amendments is often taboo among strict Presbyterians, because we live in an age of great apostasy. Among those who hold the Westminster Standards in high esteem, there is an understandable fear that, with contemporary hostilities toward doctrinal precision, any alterations will merely undermine the orthodoxy of the Standards. To date, American Presbyterian confessional revisions have embraced pluralism and softened the Confession's stand against the papacy; the revision of 1903 opened the door to universalism.
Nevertheless, the concept of confessional revision cannot be dismissed entirely. The Scottish Confession of 1560 acknowledges an openness to correction in its Preface, where it states, "if any man will note in this our confession any article or sentence repugning to God's holy word, that it would please him of his gentleness, and for Christian charity's sake, to admonish us of the same in writing; and we, of our honour and fidelity, do promise unto him satisfaction from the mouth of God (that is, from his holy scriptures), or else reformation of that which he shall prove to be amiss."
That there have been proper confessional amendments, by way of addition, is an indisputable fact. When the Westminster Standards were added to the other Scottish creeds, the purpose was not to repeal the earlier creeds, but to expand the testimony of the church. As new conflicts and heresies arise, it is inevitable that the church will supplement her confessional testimony.
Copyright ©1997 by Kevin Reed
Presbyterian Heritage Publications
P.O. Box 180922
Dallas, Texas 75218
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