Chapter 7
Denominations in Perspective
Maturity
involves learning to see things in proper "proportion" or
"perspective." Little children tend to get very upset over
things that, in later life, will not disturb them at all. The reason seems
to be that as we grow older, we tend to take larger and larger contexts
into account. Even as adults, we still spill orange juice; but compared to
the great questions of human existence, we feel that the spill is not
worth fussing about. We still may wonder, as children do, why we have to
comb our hair each day; but that is no problem at all compared
to others that we experience in adult life.
It
is important that we learn to see our denominational traditions, also, in
broader contexts, from different angles, in different settings. It is easy
enough for us to be denominational chauvinists when we never encounter
anyone from any other tradition. It is not so easy when we meet
real flesh-and-blood fellow Christians from other branches of the church.
This is especially the case when God calls us to stand together with them
against unbelief. In this chapter, let us imagine ourselves in various
situations which might lead us to question some of our normal assumptions.
A
Neighborhood Bible Study
My
wife once regularly attended a neighborhood Bible study, with women from
Roman Catholic, Charismatic, Arminian, Dispensational, and Episcopal
backgrounds as well as some fellow Presbyterians. However, it
never became a doctrinal battleground, she says, because the study always
focused on the text of Scripture. The women sought to avoid technical
theological jargon and tried simply to do justice to what the Bible
taught.
Certainly
they studied some passages that were heavy with doctrinal content. Romans
9 was one. When the group read Romans 9, Calvinist and Arminian together
marvelled at God's control of history including the his control of the
human heart. When they got to chapter 10, all with one accord were
challenged with the responsibility of human beings to preach the gospel.
No one insisted on the dogmatic terminology of "free will" on
the one hand, or of "unconditional election" on the other.
Romans 9 and 10 spoke for themselves, as it were, and bound
these Christian women together in praise and fellowship. All sincerely and
warmly received the scriptural message.
Perhaps
someone will say that they missed something! A Calvinist might reply that
unless we bring in the theological concept of unconditional election, we
cannot possibly understand Romans 9, and that therefore the ladies in
question were rejoicing in ignorance. An Arminian might say the same
thing about "free will." But if God did not inspire Paul to
write the words "unconditional election," why should we insist
that those precise words-- or the words "free will"-- are
necessary to express his meaning?
I
have no doubt that the women understood Romans 9 and 10. Would the
theological terms have helped them get a better understanding? Perhaps in some Bible studies, but
not in this one. In this particular case, introduction
of technicalities would have produced unnecessary
quarreling-- certainly not the response the Apostle Paul (and God,
the ultimate author) intended the text to evoke. And the use of
such terms might have exaggerated the extent to which Paul himself
had a technical theological purpose in writing these chapters. I
have no doubt that an avoidance of technicalities in this
particular context gave the women a better
understanding of the passages than they would have had otherwise.
Paul
wrote these chapters at a time when the Calvinist/Arminian, even the
Augustinian/Pelagian, debates were still future. He was not trying to
persuade Arminians to become Calvinists, or the other way around. It is
not wrong for us today to use these passages to help resolve the
controversy. It is wrong to suggest that that is their only legitimate
use, or even their chief use, or that the texts can be understood only in
the context of that debate. Rather, there are other contexts
too; other uses-- such as the ones Paul actually had in mind.
Certainly
divine sovereignty and human responsibility are major themes of these
passages. But one may appreciate both these themes without concentrating
on the historical controversies over them. The ladies in the Bible study
praised God's sovereignty, and they accepted the scriptural challenge to
their own responsibility. And they did it without argument, without
debate, simply listening to the word of God. For them, for an hour or
so, the church was one.
Are
there not times even in our local church life when it might be best simply
to let the text speak (more or less! for we are still
"explaining" it to one another) for itself? Do we always have to
point out, in expounding Romans 9 and 10, how our party is right and the
other party wrong? Does not that very emphasis keep us from appreciating
certain nuances and emphases in the passage? Does not that practice
exaggerate the importance of the historical controversy?
My
wife (like me a good Calvinist) says that it is not hard to convince
people of Calvinistic teachings when you avoid using Calvinistic jargon. I
agree. Beyond this, there is a slogan among the Reformed that "anyone
who prays for another's conversion is a Calvinist." I'm not sure
where that came from; it has been attributed to Warfield, Van Til,
Vos.. I agree with that too. If you pray for the soul of another, then you
believe that person's decision is in the hand of God, not merely a product
of the person's "free agency." But many pray like Calvinists,
while proclaiming Arminian theology. That doesn't seem consistent to me,
but I welcome their prayers, and I'll be happy to have them pray with me
for the conversion of sinners. So perhaps my wife's point can be taken a
further step: for there are people around who are Calvinists in one degree
or another (evidenced by their words and actions),[1]
who would not use the Calvinistic jargon, who would, perhaps, even
repudiate it.
It
seems to me that what we call Calvinism is simply a spelling out of the
heart-instincts of all believers in Christ. I can easily persuade myself
that the whole church will be Calvinist eventually, if we allow people to
read Scripture as it stands, without feeling that we have to rub their
noses in historic controversy. There is a certain "smarty pants" theological
attitude in wanting to show people of the other party that our team was
right all along. We sometimes feel that we need to do that in order to
make our case maximally cogent; but in fact that attitude detracts from the cogency of our case.
We give people the impression that in order to acknowledge
the biblical principle they must also acknowledge us,
our denomination, our historical traditions. But no.
Biblical principle deserves their allegiance. Our "team" does
not necessarily deserve it.
The
last two paragraphs, to be sure, are written from the viewpoint of a
convinced Calvinist. An Arminian, however, might have written some similar
statements from his point of view-- e.g. that everyone is an Arminian when
he urges someone to make a decision for Christ. I disagree. But the larger
point is clear: people express their theology in various ways:
verbal, non-verbal, technical, non-technical,
consistently, inconsistently. We should not assume that the only way, or
the best way, to teach Scripture is from a technical
theological perspective. Sometimes people can agree on a non-technical
level while disagreeing on the technical level. I cannot believe
that this non-technical agreement is necessarily confused
or insignificant.
Now
my point is not that we can simply convert our denominations into the sort
of "neighborhood Bible study" described above and thus abandon
all our distinctives. My only point is that it is possible, and often
desirable, to teach the word of God without
a stress on denominational distinctives, history, etc. I am not saying we
must always teach it that way. I am saying that if we experienced more of
the blessings my wife experienced in her Bible study, we would have a
better sense of the reality of the universal church and the relativity
of denominational traditions.
The
sort of unity my wife experienced in her neighborhood Bible study I have
also experienced, especially in pro-life activity. In a recent rally I
attended, the most eloquent speaker by far was a Roman Catholic priest,
and he was at his best when he spoke of salvation through
Christ alone. Oh yes: he also mentioned that he addressed Mary
in prayer. He carefully explained that he did not worship Mary,
but that she was part of the communion of saints and he desired
her fellowship as he desired that of living saints, in bringing
his requests to God. I still do not share his assurance that
Mary hears our prayers and somehow relays them to God; but in that
context the distance between my views and those of the priest-- on that
matter, anyway, did not seem terribly far apart. He was fighting-- far
more heroically than I, for he had been to jail often for his
convictions-- a battle for Jesus and for the little ones made in God's
image. I have no doubt that he and I are fighting the same battle.
Before
we talk about dissolving denominations into church unions, we need an
influx of new vision. We need to be able to see the church/denomination
relationship from various perspectives. I think that when we do this we
will be able to distinguish better between church and denomination,
between divine institution and temporary human expedient.
A
Military Chaplaincy
Here's
another "perspective." A fellow minister in my presbytery is a
navy chaplain. He is a pretty strict Calvinist, zealous to maintain
doctrinal purity in the church. He would, I have no doubt, strongly oppose
any candidate for the Presbyterian ministry who was charismatic in his
theology.
Yet
in a recent report of his work as a chaplain, he shared the news that God
had given him a fellow worker who was a member of the Assemblies of God.
The chaplain rejoiced, for this worker was a real
evangelical believer who preached the gospel. There was little if
any conflict between them; the theological difference seemed
small compared with the great gap between the Christian and
the non-Christian servicemen.
I
could not help but remark (mentally!) that my fellow Presbyterian was
rejoicing in a kind of alliance that he would certainly repudiate within
his denomination. Nor would I, to be honest, want to allow free rein to
charismatic theology within our Presbyterian denomination. But it
impresses me that the work of God can in some situations be advanced
despite differences such as these. It seems that when God's workers are in
situations where they are relatively free from denominational
constraints, and where they are in the front lines of the battle
against Satan's wickedness, denominational differences, even
theological ones, become less significant, and the unity of believers
against the forces of evil becomes moreso.
I
am not prepared now to ask us to abandon all our denominational
connections and to do all our evangelism through such ad hoc alliances. I
do think, however, that the more we look outside our denominations to
focus on the great needs of the unconverted, the more common ground we
will find with Christians of other traditions. Some of us have learned to
distinguish between "inward" and "outward facing"
churches.[2]
The former type of church is concerned largely with its own maintenance,
its own integrity, its continuity with historical tradition, the nurture
of its own members. The "outward facing" church focuses on the
world outside the church: thus it concentrates much more effort on
evangelism and missions. The two differ largely in emphasis: "inward
facing" churches usually do give some
attention to missions, and "outward facing" churches are
concerned with theological integrity and Christian nurture. But often the
differences in emphasis are substantial. Outward facing churches are not
against the nurture of their members;[3]
but they are convinced that Christians grow best when they are active
in carrying out the Lord's Great Commission in Matt. 28:19f.
I suspect that if all of our churches were more "outward
facing" (as military chaplains must be almost in the nature of the
case) we would have a more positive view of Christians from
other traditions.
A
Foreign Missions Viewpoint
Regularly
I have observed that when foreign missionaries return home for furlough,
they tend to have grown in their appreciation for Christians outside their
denomination. The foreign missionary is often lonely for Christian
fellowship, especially fellowship with other Christians from his
home country. Denominational connection is relatively
unimportant. And, as with military chaplains, the foreign missionary is
of necessity "outward facing." He sees unbelief and its
cultural fruits up close. To him, the great chasm is not between Baptist and
non-baptist, or Episcopal and non-episcopal, but between believer and
unbeliever. He loses, to some extent, his "denominational
chauvinism."
Consider
yourself in such an environment. Would you not be pleased to find another
Christian missionary to work with, even one with a somewhat different (but
not radically different) interpretation of scripture?
This
development is not toward doctrinal indifference. I have seen
very few missionaries (if any) return with a lessened conviction
of the importance of the Christian gospel. Indeed, most have
had their Calvinist (or Baptist or Arminian or whatever)
convictions reinforced to some extent. The development is rather toward
a renewed appreciation of one's doctrinal tradition along with a greater respect for Christians outside that
tradition, and an ability to work together with them.
This
situation exists, not only in foreign countries, but anywhere that the
church is small, immature, and/or threatened by powerful adversaries. It
exists in the inner cities of the
front lines, denominational
differences almost always seem less important. It is no longer Baptist
versus Presbyterian, but Christian versus unbelief.
Is
it not possible that we have lost perspective in our relatively
comfortable home churches? Might we not look at our denominations
differently if we had to engage daily in the struggle for the hearts and
minds of unbelievers? Might a more outward facing mentality lead to a more
genuinely ecumenical spirit?
A
Home Missions Perspective
Let's
face that last question more directly. I have some friends in a small
midwestern community who worship in a Presbyterian church there that, some
years ago, faced some unexpected competition. A Presbyterian denomination
different from that of my friends decided to plant a new church within
the same community. There was much weeping and wailing in the
first church, for they feared the new church would come in and
take away some of their members. The planters of the new church
had not contacted or consulted the members of the older church; in
my opinion that was wrong. But I'm inclined now to think that much of
my friends' weeping and wailing was out of place. I can certainly
sympathize with it, for I used to think the same way. I can remember
actually being happy once when a nearby church closed its doors, for I
hoped that several of their families might start coming to my church.
But
of course in the deepest sense it wasn't my church, it was God's. And God
builds his church with far more wisdom than we do. He has, I believe, led
me to change my thinking about church rivalry.
Win
Arn reports, "In 1900 there were 27 churches for every 10,000
Americans. In 1985 there were only 12 churches for every 10,000 Americans.
There are approximately 340,000 churches in
My
pastor,
Let's
consider, then, what is necessary, humanly speaking, to reach
Even
the relatively small city of
Statistically
speaking, we are losing the battle. Arn[6]
says that in the US Protestantism is shrinking from 2/3 of the population
in 1900 to 1/3 (estimated) by 2000. Between 80% and 85% of all churches in
These
statistics are sobering. For now, let us focus on the fact that little
That
is why I no longer tremble when I hear rumors of another church opening
across the street from mine. If the new church is outward facing, that is,
if it is willing to put its major effort into carrying out the Great
Commission, then we need not be rivals at all. Indeed we need one another.
Another church in
On
the other hand, if two churches are not outward facing, they can be
threats to one another. If First Baptist is interested mainly in nurturing
Baptists rather than in reaching the unchurched, and a new church (say,
Calvary Baptist) appears on the next block, then of course First Baptist
has a lot to worry about. Calvary Baptist may turn out to have a
more attractive minister, livelier programs for young people and
the like, so that some people might leave First Baptist to go
there. And, indeed, in that situation, one might well criticize
Calvary Baptist for locating so close to another Baptist church.
Far better, it seems, for
A
Personal Evangelism Perspective
Another
situation in which one's denominational chauvinism can be broken down is
personal evangelism. Let's say that you are dealing with an unbelieving
inquirer or a very young Christian, and he asks you to recommend a church
for him to attend. Naturally, you would invite him to your own
congregation; but what if he lives in a different city, distant enough
that attending your church would be impractical?
Our
first impulse is to recommend a church of our own denomination or of
another denomination fairly similar to ours. But is that always the best
thing? In one city I know, there is a large evangelical independent church
with a Dispensationalist pastor. The pastor is an excellent
communicator of the gospel, doesn't hammer much on dispensational
distinctives. He preaches mostly the positive teachings of Scripture,
communicates love for the lost and for fellow Christians of all
backgrounds, while not being indifferent to what he regards as error.
There is also in that city a Reformed church in a denomination closely
related to my own. The Reformed pastor's theology is significantly closer
to mine than that of the Dispensationalist. But the Reformed man's sermons
are exceedingly obscure and highly negative. The people of
his congregation seem always to have chips on their
shoulders, indignant about this or that; there is very little joy in the Lord,
very little welcome to people of non-Reformed background. They claim to
have much theological knowledge, but most of that "knowledge" is
poorly thought-out, often wrongly applied. The mentality in the church is
very much "inward facing." Now if I had only these two
alternatives, which would I recommend to our inquirer? I would not
hesitate to recommend the Dispensationalist. To me the question is: in
which congregation can my friend best hear the gospel and see its fruits?
It is clear to me that the Dispensationalist in my example conveys far more of the truth than
the Reformed man.
This
is not doctrinal indifference; quite the reverse. I send my friend to
the Dispensationalist church because I know that he will there learn more sound doctrine, i.e. more
authentic biblical content, than if he went to the church more
confessionally similar to mine. My recommendation emerges out of my
concern for sound doctrine; it is not a compromise of that concern.
This
example is not based on unrealistic circumstances: I have often had to
give advice in similar situations. And when I look realistically at the
needs of the inquirer and prayerfully consider the alternatives available,
I am often led beyond my own denomination, even my own theological
tradition. Such considerations can help us to put denominations, even
theological traditions, into better perspective.
The
Early Church
The
final "perspective" I wish to place before you is that of the
church in the first four centuries. It was certainly a church that was
concerned with nurture. People were baptized and catechized; the believers
sought to meet one another's material and spiritual needs. There was much
doctrinal discussion, even doctrinal controversy, from the beginning.
The church was not doctrinally indifferent; it mobilized against
the Judaizers described in Galatians, the "antichrists"
mentioned in I John 4, the later heresies of Sabellianism,
Gnosticism, Marcionism and Montanism.
At
the same time, the early church would have to be described as
"outward facing." When the Christians were "scattered
abroad" (often by persecution), they "preached the word wherever
they went" (Acts 8:4). The world
was always in the forefront of their thinking, in the nature of the case.
For it was an obvious battle in those days. The world was intent
upon destroying the little church, and the little church was
intent upon bringing the world to faith in Christ. I believe that
God used this self-understanding of the church to maintain its
unity. For the Christians were vitally aware of how much-- in this
life and death struggle-- they needed one another. The luxury
of churches-made-to-order, denominations in other words, was not
a live option for most of them. Novatian and Donatus were exceptions,
but of course their policy of rebaptism shows that they had the serious
conviction that the old church had apostatized, that it was no longer
a church-- a conviction rarely held or expressed by more
recent founders of denominations. Schism, then, was possible in
these early centuries, but only for the gravest of reasons,
reasons more serious than most any of those given in modern times.
In
the fourth century a Christian emperor came to the throne, and the
Conclusion
The
first step back to unity is to learn to see our denominational differences
in perspective. When we look at them from one angle, they seem very
important, very imposing, worthy of being maintained forever. But from
other angles (angles which, arguably are more in accord with that of the
Bible itself) they do not seem to be so great.
I
have not established any specific conclusions in this chapter. There is
nothing in this chapter, for example, that would motivate me to want to
give up the Presbyterian Confessions in order for my church to merge with
a non-Presbyterian church. But much in this chapter encourages me to look
on other denominations (excluding, of course, cults, theological
liberals and other unbelievers masquerading as Christians) in a
positive way, as friends rather than as enemies, as co-laborers in
Christ. And there is much here which influences me to listen to
those friends with a more sympathetic and open mind, willing to
be corrected even on matters which my denomination considers to
be settled.
Such
openness, I'm convinced, will in time be used of God to bring his church
to a oneness beyond anything we have experienced in our day: a oneness not
based on doctrinal indifference, but based on a fuller understanding of
God's word than any of our present groups can claim to have.