Where Have All the Presbyterians Gone? They Joined Networks

Russell Moore, academic dean at Southern Baptist Seminary, wrote a piece for the Wall Street Journal that attracted the attention of many Presbyterians thanks to his title, “Where Have All the Presbyterians Gone?” Since Moore is a Southern Baptist, perhaps he should not have weighed in on matters Presbyterian. But then again, asking the question “Where Have All the Baptists Gone?” would be silly since the Southern Baptist Convention weighs in a the largest Protestant entity in the United States. We can’t really call it a denomination or a communion because being Baptist is premised on preserving the authority and autonomy of the local congregation.

Moore’s point was not so much to tell Presbyterians to shape up but to observe the decline of denominationalism in the United States – or more accurately, the loss of denominational brands for believers’ identity, such as “Hug me, I’m a Presbyterian.” He writes:

Studies conducted by secular and Christian organizations indicate that we are. Fewer and fewer American Christians, especially Protestants, strongly identify with a particular religious communion—Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Pentecostal, etc. According to the Baylor Survey on Religion, nondenominational churches now represent the second largest group of Protestant churches in America, and they are also the fastest growing.

Moore argues that the rise of megachurches corresponds to Americans looking for church for practical reasons: “Is the nursery easy to find? Do I like the music? Are there support groups for those grappling with addiction?” If people bring these concerns to a Baptist church, they may be disappointed: “A church that requires immersion baptism before taking communion, as most Baptist traditions do, will likely get indignant complaints from evangelical visitors who feel like they’ve been denied service at a restaurant.”

But Moore sees some hopeful signs for a return to an older understanding of church, grounded in a doctrinal and evangelistic identity. One sign is the growth of the Southern Baptist Convention, which has 10,000 seminarians now a six different schools.

Moore concludes:

If denominationalism simply denotes a “brand” vying for market share, then let denominationalism fall. But many of us believe denominations can represent fidelity to living traditions of local congregations that care about what Jesus cared about—personal conversion, discipleship, mission and community. Perhaps the denominational era has just begun.

The SBC may not be the best case for denominationalism not simply because it is self-consciously not a denomination but also because it hardly has the order or unity that insures a SBC congregation in Saddleback, California will be remotely similar to one in Louisville, Kentucky. But the point about the decline of denominations is fitting and the example of Presbyterians is a good one. Aside from the mainline PCUSA, which continue to hemorrhage its millions, the largest Presbyterians denominations are in the thousands: the PCA at roughly 300,000, the EPC at approximately 60,000, and the OPC bringing up the rear at around 30,000.

One factor in Presbyterian decline that Moore should not have been expected to acknowledge (since you need some local knowledge) is the phenomenon of Presbyterians becoming networkers. An irony of Moore’s piece is that it came out the same week that David Nicholas, one of the leaders in church networking, died. The founding pastor of Spanish River Church (PCA) in Boca Raton, Florida, Nicholas also established the Church Planting Network, which according to the website has nine churches around the world.

That may seem an insignificant number until you factor in that Nicholas was an important force behind two other significant church planting networks: Acts 29 and Redeemer City to City. Nicholas’ Church Planting Network may not have impressive numbers, at least according to its website, but his congregation, Spanish River, helped to plant close to forty other churches in the PCA, including Keller’s Redeemer Presbyterian Church. It is hard not to imagine that the idea for Keller’s Redeemer City to City network of churches came from Nicholas’ own Church Planting Network.

But even more impressive, if you’re of the New School Presbyterian worldview, is Nicholas’ connection to Mark Driscoll and the Acts 29 Network. According to the Acts 29 website:

Pastor Mark Driscoll founded the Acts 29 Network with Nicholas in 2000. Nicholas was influential in starting many current Acts 29 churches, and provided much support for many of our church planters.

The list of congregations associate with Acts 29 is too long to count – though it does feature some nifty logos (which also make the page a bit tardy in loading) – but it indicates another successful network that traces its roots to Nicholas. I am almost tempted to say that Nicholas is the man behind the Gospel Coalition since his fingerprints are all over two of the larger celebrities in that phalanx of Christian allies. Which makes Nicholas the leaven for yet another network of congregations, since the Gospel Coalition is also web of congregations.

And just when we were finished with Presbyterian networks comes news of yet another Presbyterian connection of congregations, in this case a group of churches from the mainline PCUSA who have finally concluded that their denomination is “deathly ill.” As such, these pastors believe a new form of connection is important for Presbyterian conservatives:

We believe the PC(USA) will not survive without drastic intervention, and stand ready to DO something different, to thrive as the Body of Christ. We call others of like mind to envision a new future for congregations that share our Presbyterian, Reformed, Evangelical heritage. If the denomination has the ability and will to move in this new direction, we will rejoice. Regardless, a group of us will change course, forming a new way for our congregations to relate. We hate the appearance of schism – but the PC(USA) is divided already. Our proposal only acknowledges the fractured denomination we have become.

In which case, the answer to Moore’s column is this: Presbyterians abandoned the structures that made their denominations tick – such instrumentalities as sessions, presbyteries, synods, and assemblies for overseeing the ministry of word and sacrament. Instead of being Presbyterian, many Presbyterians find more congenial surroundings in locales where the schmoozing, entrepreneurialism and informal alliance-building are characteristic of being the church. Have they swapped Presbyterianism for Rotarianism? Maybe so.

This is a revealing development on two levels. The first is the fading cachet of Presbyterianism itself as a religious and theological brand. Time was in the not so distant past when saying you were Presbyterian was to indicate that you were part of a broad swath of American Protestantism that was respectable, reliable, dignified, and even refined. Granted, such cultural Presbyterianism was too much bound up with the mainstream Protestant project of aiding and abetting the American way as the Protestant way. Still, being Presbyterian was desirable because it connoted a certain seriousness of purpose – like DuPont or IBM.

For conservatives outside the mainline, being Presbyterian said less about being from the right social circles and more about identifying with the Reformation and its wonder-working powers in reshaping western civilization. To be Presbyterian was to draw a connection to John Calvin and John Knox, and to place yourself within a certain trajectory of European history and the West’s heritage. To be sure, Presbyterianism was more than history or cultural significance, but it suggested a faith and worship that was older, weightier, and more profound than fundamentalism or dispensationalism.

But Presbyterianism no longer has such cultural resonance. The networkers seem to have calculated that they have less to lose by abandoning an older identity for a new constellation of congregations orbiting around a single congregation, visionary pastor, or – better yet – celebrity preacher.

The second oddity about the current Presbyterian penchant for networking is how little consideration its advocates seem to give to the ephemeral character of these ties. Say what you will about denominations, they last in ways that networks do not. Does anyone remember the Moral Majority? How about the Evangelical Alliance? So why will Acts 29 survive the career of Mark Driscoll or Redeemer City to City outlive Tim Keller? Once Jack Miller, the founder of one of Presbyterianism’s original networks, the New Life phenomenon, New Life Presbyterian congregations have persisted but the buzz no longer fizzes. So if you are a congregation looking for a larger set of associations, you may think that Acts 29 is a solid bet. But will you actually receive any of the care and oversight that a Presbyterian denomination provides through its – yes dull – but effective structures?

Of course, the more important question is whether God has ordained networks to feed his flock. Granted, some will likely argue that denominations have no such divine imprimatur. But because Presbyterian denominations do have sessions, presbyteries, and assemblies, they are actually far more biblical than any network of churches, no matter how Calvinistic its celebrity leader or creative its congregations’ logos.

Correction: The Evangelical Presbyterian Church claims approximately 115,000 members. (Thanks to one of our scrupulous readers.)

That Tears It, I'm Joining the Gospel Coalition

There I may be appreciated finally (since it is all about me, after all).

First it was Bryan Chapell video”>saying something very 2kish about the United States as a Christian nation. His answer was essentially, no. And that answer goes well with the 2k idea that the only Christian nation that ever existed was the state of Israel before the coming of Christ. Since that political order is no longer part of God’s redemptive plan, and since the institution God is now using to establish his kingdom — as in the WCF’s assertion that the visible church is the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ (25.2) — Chapell seems to give 2kers room to maneuver within the Gospel Coalition without fear of being fear mongered.

Now comes an interview with Tim Keller where he encounters “This is Your Life” in a long interview. Part of his reflections on his theological formation includes the influence of Meredith Kline’s covenant theology for a redemptive historical understanding of justification by faith alone. Of course, Keller’s testimony is not solidly 2k since he also affirms Richard Lovelace’s scientific historical explanations of how revivals happen and Jack Miller’s pastoral practices in the New Life Presbyterian movement. But he does not flinch from affirming an Old Testament scholar who will in some conservative Reformed circles merit a thirteen-part series on how some Reformed authors are abandoning the faith once delivered to Kuyper.

So in conservative Reformed circles denying America’s Christian origins and affirming Meredith Kline’s teaching can get you sentenced to neo-Calvinist jail, but over at the Gospel Coalition the allies seem to think such ideas are neat.

Have I found a home, or what?

End of Year Giving, End of Visible Church

First it was Justin Taylor informing the world (or at least the readers of his blog) that Desiring God Ministries needed money. The post from last June was entitled, “Helping DG,” and at first I thought, even hoped, that Justin was very kind to offer me help. Turned out that the DG in question was not the underemployed one living in downtown Philadelphia but the Minneapolis-based entity who last summer was facing significant budget cuts.

Then it was a year-end post about the Gospel Coalition itself needing funds.

And now I receive an email from Tim Keller himself, requesting support for Redeemer City to City. Although I had heard of Redeemer-like churches, and knew of Keller’s involvement in both GC and the Presbyterian Church of America, I had not known about his/Redeemer’s “movement” of global churches, designed to renew global cities. In addition to being a pastor in the PCA and a best-selling author, Keller is president of RCTC. A year end email indicated the following need:

Dear Redeemer City to City supporter,

Over twenty years ago I received a calling to move my family to New York City and plant a church. God blessed our church beyond all of our expectations, and has blessed New York City through many other ministries as well.

Today, we are standing at the cusp of another humbling opportunity – to use our twenty years of experience ministering and planting churches in New York City to serve a groundswell of church planters and urban Christians in the great cities of the world. In today’s globalized world, cities will exercise more power than nations in the previous age (see Foreign Policy’s recent cover story).

To date we have helped to plant 190 churches in 35 global cities, many of which will plant other churches. In 2010 alone, we saw 34 new churches started in Tokyo, Barcelona, Johannesburg, São Paulo, Kuala Lumpur and 15 other cities, and published resources to help churches like these do discipleship, mercy & justice and evangelism.

We still have a budget gap of $200,000 for 2010. Please consider making a one-time or recurring gift to support these gospel movements in the great cities of the world.
Grace & peace,

Tim Keller
President, Redeemer City to City

Not only am I amazed that Keller has the time to be involved with the PCA, GC, and RCTC – the OPC is a sufficient ministry outlet for my time and offerings – but I do wonder about the built-in redundancy of these efforts. Would GC have an easier time raising money and hiring staff if they could simply incorporate Desiring God and Redeemer City to City in its structure and activities? That seems logical enough. But then why would Keller and John Piper join GC but keep their own networks of churches and supporters?

I know the non-profit world has much overlap between persons and institutions, but that overlap has limits. For instance, the chairman of the board of the Philadelphia Museum of Art would likely have to cut back his commitment to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art if, for instance, he was serving on PAFA’s board when appointed to chair Philadelphia’s museum. So why would Keller or Piper, reconsider their own involvement with RCTC and DG respectively if they joined a coalition for the gospel? Is GC simply window dressing, you know, drive for show, put for dough?

And this says nothing of Redeemer NYC’s membership in the PCA. What does membership in RCTC mean, compared to the communion of the PCA? Are all ministers simply free-lance entrepreneurs of religious goods with no restraints from obligations to sets of churches or ministries? Maybe, but that’s not the way Coke and Pepsi operate; even the world of for-profits recognizes some form of brand loyalty such that you can’t – at least the last time I was there – purchase Pepsi products at McDonald’s.

This may seem an overly narrow reading of religious identity or Christian fellowship, as if belonging to GC or DG or RCTC might place limits on someone’s additional fellowship outlets. But it is the case that if you join the OPC, you have to renounce other memberships, such as the Southern Baptist Convention, or the Free Masons (no intention of drawing equivalency there). The OPC and the SBC understand the nature and work of the church differently, and also disagree about theological matters. This does not mean that Southern Baptists are barred from the Lord’s Supper at an OPC congregation. But it does mean that SBC pastors will not preach in OPC pulpits, and it also means that someone coming from the SBC into the OPC will need to make another profession of faith and be examined by the session.

But in the case of GC, DG, and RCTC, no such boundaries exist, at least for the leaders who attract readers, donors, and fans. Apparently, someone can be part of DG, GC, and RCTC – though since Keller’s movement has a Gospel DNA, one may wonder if GC’s commitment to the gospel is less genetically precise. Plus, another distinction between RCTC and GC is that many of the churches that belong to GC are not sufficiently urban or global to qualify for RCTC. In which case, a congregation’s geography matters more than its commitment to proclaim the gospel. I had heard of race, class and gender. But now we need to add city?

Well, actually GC calls is membership a “city.” The website says:

Our online community of over 8,000 people from 65 different countries is called The City. You will find groups based on geographical location as well as special interests in order to help you connect with like-minded, gospel-centered people.

Apparently this “city” is not sufficiently urban or global to be part of RCTC. New York City does have high standards, after all, though Scriptural norms for belonging and fellowship might embrace suburbanites and agrarians. Heck, it would also include the homeless since we are all pilgrims.

Anyway, task of mapping the boundaries and ties among these various evangelical and somewhat Calvinistic enterprises is almost as complex as the Southern Baptist Convention’s hierarchy is Baroque. If belong to GC is to be part of “the city,” then becoming part of RCTC is, I guess, to join the ueber-urban inner city circle of GC. Yet, when you look at GC’s handy church directory, you see that of the five churches listed at the RCTC list of Philadelphia CTC churches, only liberti church east and Grace Church of Philadelphia also belong to GC. (Apparently, neither organization has rules about spelling and capitalization.) But a comparison of these cites also shows that RCTC has more members in Philadelphia than GC (five to four). If both groups opened up to each others membership, then RCTC and GC would have seven congregations in Philadelphia; as it stands they limp along with reduced numbers.

And to keep the comparison going, RCTC has no churches in Lake Wobegone country where John Piper ministers. But Piper’s congregation is part of GC, and Trinity City Church in St. Paul is the other urban member from the Twin Cities. (With a name like that, you would think Trinity City Church would be a shoe in for joining RCTC.)

And what of the Baptist General Convention and the PCA? Are these denominations and associations of congregations simply chopped liver? I can understand that an independent congregation that wants to feel connected may look to GC as a form of fellowship beyond the local congregation. To alleviate their predicament, they could actually consider becoming part of a Reformed denomination or federation, but Reformed communions are a little more rigorous about baptism than GC, DG, or RCTC. Still, if you already belong to the PCA or the General Baptist Convention, why would you need to join GC or RCTC or DG? And if GC, RCTC, and DG did not exist, would the ministries of denominations like the GBC and the PCA be healthier and less in need of year-end contributions themselves? I mean, do the GBC and PCA not promote the gospel, desire God, or exclude urban congregations?

But over against the disadvantages of denominations, GC, DG, and RCTC allow for forms of membership, loyalty, and fellowship that come with few restrictions and plenty of opportunities for giving financially. One of the virtues of the U.S. currency, even in this difficult economy, is that it works in all parachurch agencies and Christian movements. What is more, the U.S. Christians who own those dollars don’t need to belong to any ministry, movement, or coalition in order to give. All these persons need to do is neglect giving any thought to what sort of obligation their own church membership and denominational ties places upon them.

If Justin Taylor Gives to the OPC’s Thank Offering, I’ll Contribute to the Gospel Coalition (maybe)

Golfers know the adage that you drive for show and putt for dough. The translation for non-golfers is that 300-yard drives don’t matter if you three-putt the green on to which you’ve chipped because of your impressive – u-dah-man!! – drive. In fact, if you don’t sink your birdie putt (one under par for the golf challenged), you are not going to be much more than a duffer.

This adage would seem to apply to the Gospel Coalition, though it needs to be adjusted to this – join for show and withhold the dough. According to Justin Taylor, GC is in the midst of a year-end fund-raising effort in which supporters who contribute the most will receive ten free registrations for the GC annual conference, along with ten free nights at the conference hotel in Chicago. (Since I doubt W. C. Fields would have been much of a fan of GC, I wonder if his joke would be that second-prize is 20 free conference registrations and 20 free nights in the hotel – 30 if in Philadelphia.) And so that everyone can benefit from the effort, anyone who starts a campaign page at his or her blog or website will receive a copy of Tim Keller’s DVD curriculum, Gospel in Life.

To what purpose do contributions go? So far GC amounts primarily to a website/blog presence and a national annual conference. To accomplish this, the Coalition employs three full-time people. According to Taylor, “The Gospel Coalition (TGC) is not a church, but it does exist to serve and honor the Church. TGC is ultimately ‘a fellowship of evangelical churches deeply committed to renewing our faith in the gospel of Christ and to reforming our ministry practices to conform fully to the Scriptures.’” He adds that the Coalition is more than just a set of blogs or a conference sponsor but “ a place where ‘humble orthodoxy’ is modeled, thoughtful arguments are made, people are loved and honored, conversation is advanced, and the gospel is applied—all to the glory of God.”

Among the benefits of belonging to the Coalition is the Ordinary Pastors project. Since the link that Justin supplied for this endeavor is defective, either GC attracts no ordinary pastors or they need another staff member.

Another feature that caught my eye was GC’s directory of churches (which again has a defective link at Tayloy’s blog). This is a nifty device that shows where GC congregations can be found across the greatest nation on God’s green (and warming) earth. But the directory comes with this warning: “Disclaimer: The Gospel Coalition does not endorse all churches in the directory. We are not able to fully vet all churches.”

This is a remarkable concession and points to the relevance of applying the golfing adage about putting to GC. Apparently, churches will join GC but will not give. The advantage of this strategy is obvious – you get some free publicity and can draft off the celebrity of John Piper and Tim Keller, but you don’t have to find any money in your budget for membership dues. At the same time, why wouldn’t a coalition committed to the gospel be willing to vet anyone that joins its ranks?

So Taylor’s pitch for GC could be improved if the Coalition offered a better product. In fact, better products exist and they are called not parachurch organizations but churches. In my own case, the OPC can vouch in some way for all of the congregations that belong to its fellowship. Not only that, the OPC can vouch for all its church members who are in good standing. We also have a website with a church directory that allows people to find an OP congregation. We also have lots of publications that are widely available to anyone, whether they belong to the Gospel Coalition or to the Southern Baptist Convention or to Redeemer Presbyterian Church. And we have way more than three full-time employees – just look at our directory and see all the pastors, missionaries, and teachers. And we also have a relatively uniform product – all of our officers agree about infant baptism and follow the Westminster Confession on the Lord’s Supper. And don’t talk to me about the sovereignty of God. The OPC has the sovereignty of God coursing through its spiritual veins, from Van Til’s apologetics to its commitment to the ordinary work of proclaiming the gospel in the United States and foreign lands. For those interested in a conference, can anyone beat a visit with presbytery or an all-week’s paid trip to General Assembly?

By the way, the OPC is also having a year-end fund-drive, called our Thank Offering, which solicits offerings for the General Assembly’s programs and agencies.

If the OPC is a better philanthropic value than GC, why does Justin Taylor want his readers (including Orthodox Presbyterians like me) to give to the Coalition without mentioning better options like the OPC for spiritual investing? And a related question is why do parachurch organizations have no problem looking far and wide for contributors while churches don’t expect non-members to give to denominational or church causes? I wonder, for instance, what kind of budget Keller’s Redeemer church has allocated for the Coalition in this fiscal year? Or Piper’s Bethlehem Baptist? Shouldn’t a fund drive for GC start with GC members, especially those congregations that have more than others? Meanwhile, shouldn’t the Coalition be circumspect about raising funds from believers who should be giving to their own churches?

Of course, in that case, if church members gave to the local churches or denominations, then GC would have no budget. But since we have churches that need money, and churches that provide services superior to the Coalition, why does GC actually exist? I know such questions might seem mean spirited, further evidence of Machen’s Warrior Children’s instincts. But the parachurch folks only consider such questions impertinent because they have no sense of propriety. They have no idea that they are duplicating the work of the church and then taking energy and support from the very churches that they supposedly seek to serve.

The Gates of Hell Won't, But Netflix Might

I have recently been wondering what a dinner that included Tim Keller, John Piper, and Woody Allen might look like. This is not a major stretch since my apologetics paper for John Frame as a junior at Westminster was a dialogue between Woody and Corny (as in Cornelius Van Til). I can imagine that Keller would prepare by watching many of Allen’s movies so that he could present reasons for God. Piper might prepare by finding a way to confront Allen about his affairs with women and his current relationship with the daughter (adopted) of Allen’s ex-lover.

But what is most intriguing in this scenario (to me) is the possible interaction between Keller and Piper. Would the New York pastor feel awkward acknowledging to Piper his knowledge of Allen’s movies and their sexual content? Would Keller even have a glass of wine with the meal? And would Piper restrain some of his words to Allen because of Keller’s interest in reaching New Yorkers? Would Piper recommend that the three diners go to a cheaper restaurant to save money and avoid ostentation?

Piper’s recent remarks about what could break the “Gospel-Centered Movement” apart are partly responsible for these wonders about “Their Dinner with Woody.” As our New England correspondent usefully summarized the Minneapolis pastor’s remarks, five behaviors could undermine the Young Calvinist revival of the awe and majesty of God. They are:

1. The movies we watch
2. Big appetites for beer
3. The lure of pornography
4. The carelessly attended, weekend, default movie
5. Hip-huggers and plunging necklines

Justin Taylor, who posted the clip at his Gospel Coaltion blog, warned about rushing to judge Piper for his implicit judgmentalism. That warning is an indication itself that the Piper’s words could easily be misinterpreted and twisted, such as the idea that pornography and beer are equally threatening to holiness. But even with Taylor’s warning in mind, three anomalies haunt Piper’s remarks and Taylor’s publicizing of them.

First, Piper is clear that the majesty of God is at the heart of genuine Christian piety. Piper says around 2:30 of the clip that he is concerned about the disconnect between the majesty of God sung about in contemporary Christian music (I suppose much of it coming from Sovereign Grace sources), “that causes people to soar with an emotional euphoria about the greatness of God and the wires of the details of our practical daily lives.” That way of putting it implies that the problem is not simply the disconnect between the holiness of God and the sinfulness of his saints, but also the difference between an evangelical-styled beatific vision of God and human life on planet earth. Now Piper does go on to contrast holiness and wickedness. But he started that set of contrasts with one between a spiritual high of experiencing God’s majesty and the low of living with the ordinary aspects of human existence, an existence that even after the fall is not inherently wicked.

What makes this point potentially faulty – that is, the contrast between “desiring God” and “living an earthly existence” – is that the Bible itself does not necessarily cultivate an appetite for the kind of experience lauded by Piper. The saints of the Old Testament were not the most virtuous; not even the great King David could keep his hormones in the Bible. And yet God not only chose to include these strange bits of ancient near eastern culture in Scripture, but also to reveal himself and his salvation through them. Mind you, David is not an example of Christian living. But neither did the final editors of holy writ (whether Israelite redactors or the Holy Trinity) decide to remove him from the canon for fear of distracting believers from a vision and experience of the supremacy of God. Even in the New Testament, the stories of Jesus do not end with him leaving lasting impressions on people who in turn go off in search of soul-wrenching encounters with divine majesty. Instead, the gospels are filled with earthy stories about real life encounters between people who lived in ordinary circumstances under not so savory rulers and earthly powers. In which case, I wonder if Piper’s desire for God cultivates an appetite that even Scripture cannot fulfill because the contents of the Bible are more like Woody Allen’s movies than the worship songs Piper admires.

Second, I wonder if Piper’s concerns about beer and movies make the saints at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City uncomfortable. As reported in the Nicotine Theological Journal (July 2008), Redeemer Church has sponsored an adult version of Vacation Bible School that featured courses in wine tasting, New York Yankees baseball, and even Wagner’s operas. I myself am not sure why a church needs to sponsor such forms of continuing education. But Redeemer and Keller are on record about wanting to cultivate the arts and culture, which is why Keller would likely gear up for and enjoy a dinner with Woody Allen. That also means that the saints at Redeemer church would not necessarily be comfortable with the cultural horizons of the Gospel Coalition if Piper were in charge of setting its event calendar. That also means that culture, engaging it, transforming it, and redeeming it, is a potentially divisive topic for two of the top allies in the Gospel Coalition. In which case, it’s not hip huggers or plunging necklines but rival forms of experimental Calvinism that could split the Gospel Coalition portion of the Gospel-Centered movement.

Third, I wonder why beer, movies, or piety would be more divisive for gospel believers than the sacraments. I may sound like a broken record, but the Gospel Coalition is comprised at least of Baptists and Presbyterians. Some of the Coalition’s Baptists have even said that the practice of infant baptism is a sin. This reaction to differences over baptism seem to be much more honorable and honest than simply ignoring the teachings and practices of the communions from which the Co-Allies come for the sake of a gospel-centered movement. After all, Lutherans and Reformed Protestants are in different communions precisely because Martin Luther and Ulrich Zwingli believed that a Gospel-Centered movement like the Reformation extended to the means of grace, those very ordinances by which God confirms and seals the gospel.

Piper’s remarks are several years old and so passed without breaking up the Gospel Coalition. But they do suggest that the Coalition’s unity could unravel as quickly as the Dude can mix a Caucasian or in the time it takes young Calvinists to discover the delights of the Coen Brothers.

If the Gospel Coalition Embraces It, Will 2k Lose Its Edge?

One of the smarter moves by 2k proponents was David VanDrunen’s to publish his sequel to Natural Law and the Two Kingdoms with Crossway, the firm with the most direct ties to the Gospel Coalition, thanks to Justin Taylor’s footprint in both organizations. So far 2k has come into print through outlier publishers, such as Jason Stellman’s Dual Citizens with Reformation Trust, an up-and-comer but not yet on a par with the Grand Rapids and Wheaton publishers; VanDrunen first published his Biblical Case for Natural Law with the Acton Institute and then his book on two kingdoms with Eerdmans – a publisher no longer regarded by sideline Presbyterians as safely orthodox; in my own case, I went to the independent trade publisher, Ivan R. Dee to produce A Secular Faith. With Living in God’s Two Kingdoms, VanDrunen has put 2k theology, with all of its initial oddities and counter-biblicist notions, squarely before the Tim-Keller loving, and John-Piper convicting masses.

Will 2k ever be the same?

Early returns suggest, yes. Here are a few of the responses to Taylor’s recent post on VanDrunen’s latest:

I’ve read VanDrunen’s book and I am surprised that you came to such positive conclusions about it. He makes a few valuable critiques of those who disagree with him, but the overall thrust of his thesis is, quite frankly, unbiblical. His exegesis is shoddy and he makes very dramatic assumptions about his theology’s continuity with historical figures. VanDrunen’s (and to a greater extent, D.G. Hart’s) iteration of two-kingdom theology does not cooperate well with Augustine’s, Calvin’s, or even Luther’s understanding of the Church’s call in the world. Reading this book can be valuable for a number of reasons, but please exercise careful discernment and wisdom before taking his claims too seriously.

John Frame’s book review on his prior book seems to suggest VanDrunen’s 2 kingdom view is unbiblical. I am thinking this book might be a waste of time.

I’m not sure which is worse. Unbiblical or waste of time. But acquiring a taste for 2k will clearly take some work.

I don’t actually believe VanDrunen will be visiting a Gospel Coalition conference soon as a plenary speaker. His arguments about “redeeming culture” and the nature of redemption will not go down easily with word-and-deed-based ministries or churches in pursuit of social justice (no matter how generous). But he has moved 2k from the sidelines to a seat at the mainstream born-again Baptyterian table. Maybe this book will turn out to be as momentous as the original Super Bowl, which brought the AFL and the NFL together for an annual game that led to the joining-and-receiving of leagues that had been previously at odds. Maybe too, in reverse of professional football’s expansion, VanDrunen’s sighting on the Gospel Coalition’s radar will prompt the allies in the Gospel Coalition to go back to church on Sunday evenings for a second service.

Social Gospel Coalition

I have sometimes wondered if the appeal of organizations like the Gospel Coalition, Together for the Gospel, Acts 29 Network, Redeemer Global Network, Desiring God, and the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals is their extremely chummy atmosphere. At the various blogs of these outfits, the posts are usually flattering of the other participants in the organization. If criticism comes, it is always as a punchline to a joke. Readers must conclude that only a fool would disagree with anything written at these blogs.

This makes parachurch organizations very different from the church where officers at synods and assemblies need to be on their toes and prepared to be challenged. A General Assembly is not a love-fest, though the sorts of activities that take place there are loving in the way that changing the oil in your Chevy is a form of care. Granted, I have never been to one of these organizations’ conferences (except for the initial launch of ACE in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1996). But the feel of these association from their blogs is one of encouragement, uplift, inspiration, earnestness, and occasional comic relief. You wouldn’t know from reading these cites that a Christian could actually grow through discouragement, criticism, and rebuke. (When will someone start the Iron-Sharpening-Iron Fellowship of Evangelical Whiners?) (Update: Justin Taylor may have the clue on the lack of criticism among the allies of the gospel.)

To Kevin DeYoung’s credit, he did take a modest swipe at one of the Gospel Coalition’s constituencies and, because members are not used to disagreement, he caused a minor imbroglio. DeYoung’s original comments came at a Desiring God National Conference about the difference between “mission” and “missional,” and later became part of a video and a post at the Gospel Coalition’s blog. What DeYoung had the temerity to do was suggest that social justice and neighbor love were not the same as building the kingdom of Christ. Word and Deeders from the Acts 29 Network took a measure of umbrage and DeYoung wrote a second post, trying to clarify and while sidestepping toes. He doesn’t want churches to abandon the social aspects of missional. He simply wants the proclamation of the gospel to be the basis for all the church does.

Most recently DeYoung interviewed Tim Keller on his new book on justice and even asked the New York pastor if he had misconstrued the relationship between word and deed. Keller’s response was to affirm an asymmetrical relationship. Keller said:

. . . the first thing I need to tell people when they come to church is “believe in Jesus,” not “do justice.” Why? Because first, believing in Jesus meets a more radical need and second, because if they don’t believe in Jesus they won’t have that gospel-motivation to do justice that I talk about in the book. So there’s a priority there. On the other hand, for a church to not constantly disciple its people to “do justice” would be utterly wrong, because it is an important part of God’s will. I’m calling for an ‘asymmetrical balance’ here. It seems to me that some churches try to “load in” doing justice as if it is equally important as believing in Jesus, but others, in fear of falling into the social gospel, do not preach or disciple their people to do justice at all. Both are wrong. A Biblical church should be highly evangelistic yet known for its commitment to the poor of the city.

Never mind if your church happens to be in the suburbs or the country. Move on to the next blog in your Google Reader account.

Now the confounding aspect of DeYoung’s valuable even if timid point about the priority of word to deed and Keller’s notion of an asymmetrical relations that prioritizes the gospel over justice is that nowhere does the Bible say that the church is supposed to do justice. Of course, a distinction may need to be made between the church as Christians and the institutional church, and I believe Keller needs to make this one the way contestants on “Wheel of Fortune” often buy vowels. But with that distinction in mind, where does Scripture talk about the corporate church as an agent of social justice or social anything? (Warning: if you appeal to the Old Testament you are entering a world of theonomic pain.)

Jesus and the apostles did not engage in social justice. Paul’s instructions to Timothy about preaching did not include telling Christians to do justice. In fact, the New Testament call to submit to rulers and to live quiet and peaceable lives is not the basis for social justice Sunday or word and deed ministry.

And what happens when we look at the creeds of the Reformed churches – nothing on the church as an instrument of social work? It is all about redemption 24/1.

Article 29 of the Belgic Confession says:

The true church can be recognized if it has the following marks: The church engages in the pure preaching of the gospel; it makes use of the pure administration of the sacraments as Christ instituted them; it practices church discipline for correcting faults. In short, it governs itself according to the pure Word of God, rejecting all things contrary to it and holding Jesus Christ as the only Head. By these marks one can be assured of recognizing the true church– and no one ought to be separated from it.

Because of the centrality of word and sacrament in establishing the kingdom of Christ, the Second Helvetic Confession (ch. 18) describes the duties of ministers without mentioning social justice:

The duties of ministers are various; yet for the most part they are restricted to two, in which all the rest are comprehended: to the teaching of the Gospel of Christ, and to the proper administration of the sacraments. For it is the duty of the ministers to gather together an assembly for worship in which to expound God’s Word and to apply the whole doctrine to the care and use of the Church, so that what is taught may benefit the hearers and edify the faithful. It falls to ministers, I say, to teach the ignorant, and to exhort; and to urge the idlers and lingerers to make progress in the way of the Lord. Moreover, they are to comfort and to strengthen the fainthearted, and to arm them against the manifold temptations of Satan; to rebuke offenders; to recall the erring into the way; to raise the fallen; to convince the gainsayers to drive the wolf away from the sheepfold of the Lord; to rebuke wickedness and wicked men wisely and severely; not to wink at nor to pass over great wickedness.

And, besides, they are to administer the sacraments, and to commend the right use of them, and to prepare all men by wholesome doctrine to receive them; to preserve the faithful in a holy unity; and to check schisms; to catechize the unlearned, to commend the needs of the poor to the Church, to visit, instruct, and keep in the way of life the sick and those afflicted with various temptations. In addition, they are to attend to public prayers or supplications in times of need, together with common fasting, that is, a holy abstinence; and as diligently as possible to see to everything that pertains to the tranquility, peace and welfare of the churches.

The word-and-sacrament character of the church is also part and parcel of the Gallican Confession:

27. Nevertheless we believe that it is important to discern with care and prudence which is the true Church, for this title has been much abused. We say, then, according to the Word of God, that it is the company of the faithful who agree to follow his Word, and the pure religion which it teaches; who advance in it all their lives, growing and becoming more confirmed in the fear of God according as they feel the want of growing and pressing onward. Even although they strive continually, they can have no hope save in the remission of their sins. Nevertheless we do not deny that among the faithful there may be hypocrites and reprobates, but their wickedness can not destroy the title of the Church.

28. In this belief we declare that, properly speaking, there can be no Church where the Word of God is not received, nor profession made of subjection to it, nor use of the sacraments.

Notable here is that social justice is neither a mark of the church nor of the Christian person.

One last example comes from the Westminster Confession of Faith which describes the purpose of the church without mentioning society, economics, or politics – at all:

Unto this catholic visible church Christ hath given the ministry, oracles, and ordinances of God, for the gathering and perfecting of the saints, in this life, to the end of the world: and doth, by his own presence and Spirit, according to his promise, make them effectual thereunto. (25.3)

I understand that the confessions do mention the poor as part of the diaconal work of the church, and I also understand that this is the crack through which most conservative Presbyterians will pour every conceivable faith-based humanitarian project. But diaconal work in a state-church environment is a very different animal in a secular society environment where the state has BILLIONS of dollars ready for the poor. Of course, if no one were attending to needs of the homeless, the hungry, widows, and orphans, then the church conceivably could step in and even extend diaconal care to non-believers. But unless I missed the federal government adopt a Weight Watchers regimen, I’ll need to be convinced that the church can match the modern state for social justice output.

Diaconal work aside, the conviction of the Reformed churches has always been that the church is a spiritual institution with spiritual means for spiritual ends. New School Presbyterians came along and tried to conceive of the church in activist terms. But the Old School Presbyterians shot back with the doctrine of the spirituality of the church, and the related teachings of the marks of the church and the keys of the kingdom. All those Presbyterians – Tim Keller included – who owe their conservatism to the Old School tradition as taught at Old Princeton, reiterated at Old Westminster, and carried into the OPC and the RPCES precincts of the PCA really need to be clear that the institutional church has no mandate from Scripture for social endeavors or activism. They may want to side with the New School. But then they will really need to explain how the contemporary asymmetrical relationship of word and deed will not turn out differently from the asymmetrical relationship maintained briefly during the nineteenth century by Union and Auburn Seminaries before blossoming into doctrine (word) divides but ministry (deed) unites.

Hey, wait a minute, that bloom may already be on the rose of interdenominational parachurch ministries where words about sacraments matter less than ministries about deeds.

How Tim Keller Reasons

John Piper has a new book on thinking that I wonder if Tim Keller has read. (Do the celebrity figures of organizations like the Gospel Coalition have enough time, apart from their own writing, speaking, and travel to read the work of each other?) The reason for wondering is a tendency that Keller exhibits in many of the pieces I have read – namely, to avoid extremes in favor of a middle way. You don’t need to be Barry Goldwater, the guy who said “extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice,” to know that both-and solutions are often impossible. To keep the Lord’s Day holy you need to avoid work on Sunday (for starters). You don’t work a little, rest some, and work a bit. And to honor your Reformed convictions, you don’t cooperate in ministries with Arminians. You can’t have the five points of Dort and the four points of the Remonstrants. You can’t ordain men only and have deaconesses. Sometimes the truths you profess require a choice.

But Keller does not seem to like being confined to either-or’s and he also apparently thinks that many of the errors in church history stem precisely from binary situations. His foreword to a new book by former Bush administration staffers on Christianity and politics (posted at the Gospel Coalition blog) exhibits precisely the tendency to identify extremism and run to the other side – but only so far, of course.

Here is Keller’s take on H. Richard Niebuhr:

In the mid-twentieth-century, H. Richard Niebuhr wrote his classic Christ and Culture, which helped mainline Christian churches think through ways to relate faith to politics. In the end, Niebuhr came down on the side of universalism, the view that ultimately God is working to improve things through all kinds of religions and political movements. The result of his work was to lead mainline Protestant churches to become uncritical supporters of a liberal political agenda (though Niebuhr himself opposed such a move).

Now, as the recent Pew Forum poll indicated, most Americans do not know their nation’s church history that well and Keller should not be faulted for getting Niebuhr wrong. At the time that the older brother of Reinhold wrote Christ and Culture, mainline Protestants were firmly in the Republican fold and also very bullish on maintaining a Christian America and a Christian world order. After all, H. Richard’s brother was a prominent supporter of the Cold War and one of the architects of anti-communist foreign policy in the Eisenhower administration was the Presbyterian, John Foster Dulles. In fact, the folks in the orbit of Union Seminary (NYC) were so bullish on a Christian America that their rhetoric foreshadowed that of Jerry Fallwell some thirty years later.

In which case, if Keller is going to use history to avoid its mistakes, he should try to avoid mistaken readings of history.

But this is not Keller’s only appeal to history. He goes on in the foreword to answer the objections of evangelicals who say that politics is “a distraction, that we should concentrate fully on the only important things—the defense of orthodox doctrine and the evangelism of the world.” I wish I knew of such evangelicals. I doubt Keller comes across many of them in New York and you can’t even find them at Bob Jones University these days where Keller’s rhetoric of transformationalism has more appeal that the school’s former fundamentalist denunciations of worldliness. Still, to counter the fundamentalist argument, Keller appeals to the errors of history:

. . . as the authors point out, in 1930s Germany, a faulty understanding of how Christianity relates to the political contributed to the disaster of Nazism, which in turn meant the loss of the German Lutheran Church’s credibility, evangelistic witness, and even orthodoxy. Something similar happened in South Africa, where an orthodox Reformed theology, invoking the views of Abraham Kuyper, created a civil religion that supported apartheid, and as a consequence has suffered incalculable loss to its standing in the eyes of the people. Ironically, the Lutherans followed a two-kingdom approach to Christ and culture, in which Christians are not to bring their faith into politics, while Reformed Christianity has been characterized by a view that Christians are supposed to transform culture. Both approaches, when not applied thoughtfully and wisely, have led to cultural, political, and ultimately spiritual disaster.

Several oddities stand out in this historical judgment. Just how many Americans after fighting a war against Germany twenty years earlier were sitting by their wireless, waiting to hear what the Lutheran Churches in Germany were saying about anything, let alone National Socialism? Lutherans never had a lot of credibility with Anglo-American Protestants, not even the American Lutheran communions.

But even odder about the assessment of Lutherans is the juxtaposition with Kuyperians. Keller does well to remember that the political failings of Protestants have been not simply on the Lutheran side. Reformed Protestants have to answer for their own performance.

And yet, Keller’s conclusion does not follow. He says that Lutherans lost their credibility for National Socialism and Dutch-African Reformed for apartheid. And yet, where has Kuyper lost any credibility with American Protestants – even Keller himself – who still rally under the banner of “every square inch”? In other words, if the German churches’ acquiescence to Hitler makes 2k theology suspect, why doesn’t neo-Calvinist support for apartheid make Kuyperianism suspect? And yet, it is the Kuyperian-flavored transformationalism that Keller himself consumes and that also accounts for some of the more vigorous critiques of 2k.

So instead of trying to avoid the errors of the past, perhaps Keller and others who appeal to history for directions in the present should understand that the past is complicated, its actors flawed, and that bad things happen to good causes. 2k theology did not create Hitler any more than neo-Calvinism is responsible for apartheid. History has no single causes. History also yields no consequences that disprove ideas. If Keller wants to argue against 2k theology or fundamentalist otherworldliness, fine. But guilt-by-association is not a good form of thinking. I suspect that even Piper agrees.

Moderation Coalition

Is it just me, or has a pattern emerged among the leaders of the Gospel Coalition – namely, to regard Reformed Protestants as extreme?

First, Ray Ortlund compared TR’s to the Judaizers in Paul’s Galatia.

The Judaizers in Galatia did not see their distinctive – the rite of circumcision – as problematic. They could claim biblical authority for it in Genesis 17 and the Abrahamic covenant. But their distinctive functioned as an addition to the all-sufficiency of Jesus himself. Today the flash point is not circumcision. It can be Reformed theology. But no matter how well argued our position is biblically, if it functions in our hearts as an addition to Jesus, it ends up as a form of legalistic divisiveness.

Then came Tim Keller who riffed on Martin Lloyd Jones to warn against what Reformed Protestants are known for – arguing about doctrine:

However, whenever Lloyd-Jones takes up the importance of doctrine, he always points out that there is a danger on the other extreme. He speaks of some Christians and says “There is nothing they delight in more than arguing about theology” and they do this in “a party spirit” (p. 24). One of the signs of this group is that they are either dry and theoretical in their preaching, or they can be caustic and angry. They have “lost their tempers, forgetting that by so doing they were denying the very doctrine which they claimed to believe” (p. 24). In short, ministers who go to this extreme destroy the effectiveness of their preaching. What is the cause of this? Lloyd-Jones answers that they have made accurate doctrine an end in itself, instead of a means to honor God and grow in Christ-likeness. “Doctrine must never be considered in and of itself. Scripture must never be divorced from life” (p. 25).

And now John Piper warns against the tendencies of pride among the Reformed.

Reformed people tend to be thoughtful. That is, they come to the Bible and they want to use their minds to make sense of it. The best of them want to make sense of all of the Bible and do not pick and choose saying, “I don’t like that verse. That sounds like an Arminian verse, so we will set it aside.” No! Fix your brain, don’t fix the Bible.

The kind of person that is prone to systematize and fit things together, like me, is wired dangerously to begin to idolize the system. I don’t want to go here too much, because I think the whiplash starts to swing the other direction, and we minimize the system, thinking, and doctrine to the degree that we start to lose a foothold in the Bible. . . .

Hanging on with the danger I am speaking of is pride—a certain species of pride. There are many species of pride, and this is just one of them. You can call it intellectualism. There is also emotionalism, but that isn’t the danger we are talking about right now. Intellectualism is a species of pride, because we begin to prize our abilities to interpret the Bible over the God of the Bible or the Bible itself.

This is a strange tendency with the Gospel Coalition since in the evangelical world, GC draws much more from the Reformed than the Wesleyan side of adherents. The only explanation can be that hanging around with Reformed-leaning types the way that Ortlund, Keller, and Piper do, they apparently do not want to be confused with the mean, proud, or idolatrous type of Reformed Protestant. This explanation gains plausibility when you consider that Lutherans and Dispensationalists are not too shabby when it comes to doctrine and intellectualism. And yet, no one seems to bring these Protestants up, even though the United States has many more Lutherans and Dispensationalists than it does Reformed Protestants. (Compare the enrollment at Dallas Seminary to both Westminsters, or membership in the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod to the PCA and the OPC combined!!!)

What is bothersome about this constant refrain of “Reformed meanies” is the failure of Ortlund, Keller, and Piper to acknowledge that the Reformed faith came to these men and their libraries (not to mention their communions in the case of Keller), not through avoiding extremes but by way of contending militantly for the faith. If we didn’t have belligerents like Bullinger, Ursinus, Knox, Erskine, Hodge, or Van Til, we would not have a Reformed faith from which to draw, no matter how moderately we try to do it. And the reverse is also true: when Reformed Protestants are not militant, that faith withers and eventually dies.

In which case, when will the Gospel Coalition folks understand that moderation leads to equivocation?

Mike Horton is More Fun Than Mark Dever (though Mark has his moments)

Justin Taylor made me do it.

He linked to Ray Ortlund’s blog from a couple days ago at the Gospel Coalition – calling it a “classic” in which the he warns TR’s (i.e., Truly Reformed) about the danger of falling into the Judaizer trap. Ortlund writes:

The Judaizers in Galatia did not see their distinctive – the rite of circumcision – as problematic. They could claim biblical authority for it in Genesis 17 and the Abrahamic covenant. But their distinctive functioned as an addition to the all-sufficiency of Jesus himself. Today the flash point is not circumcision. It can be Reformed theology. But no matter how well argued our position is biblically, if it functions in our hearts as an addition to Jesus, it ends up as a form of legalistic divisiveness.

This is truly an amazing assertion by the Nashville pastor. Even though Reformed folks think they are following Paul in their teaching and ministry (let’s not forget the Jerusalem Council or the pastoral epistles which say something about presbyterian polity), they become Judaizers by following Paul and insisting that the church heed everything Christ commanded – from theology to worship and polity. I feel like I am in a Coen Brothers movie where up is down, white is black, and rodents are felines.

Ortlund’s post is standard fare among evangelicals who look for a lowest-common-denominator approach to Christian unity and so regard sticklers for doctrine and practice – like the Reformed – as sticks in the mud and unloving sectarians to boot. (Ortlund fails to remark that Baptists, Pentecostals, Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Lutherans, who insist on the correctness of their distinct teachings and practices, are also would-be Judaizers. Rather than acknowledge that differences exist within the church because different parts of the visible church interpret the Bible differently, Ortlund, like many a pietist before him, disregards actual differences and chalks up resistance to unity as a lack of love – for both Christ and for other Christians. As the Church Lady might say, “isn’t that charitable?”

But the neat trick that Ortlund adds to this standard kvetch about Reformed particularists is a claim about the psychology and sociology of being Reformed. He comments on Gal 4:17 – “They make much of you, but for no good purpose. They want to shut you out, that you may make much of them” – in the following paraphrase:

“When Christians, whatever the label or badge or shibboleth, start pressuring you to come into line with their distinctive, you know something’s wrong. They want to enhance their own significance by your conformity to them: ‘See? We’re better. We’re superior. People are moving our way. They are becoming like us. We’re the buzz.’”

Ortlund adds, “What is this, but deep emotional emptiness medicating itself by relational manipulation? This is not about Christ. This is about Self.”

Isn’t that charitable, indeed.

Is it so hard to imagine that other people with whom we disagree may actually have good reasons for what they hold, and that they may actually be trying to honor, serve, and love the Lord and his church? Apparently, Ortlund would rather speculate on motives and psychology.

Ortlund concludes with this plea to Reformed Protestants:

My Reformed friend, can you move among other Christian groups and really enjoy them? Do you admire them? Even if you disagree with them in some ways, do you learn from them? What is the emotional tilt of your heart – toward them or away from them? If your Reformed theology has morphed functionally into Galatian sociology, the remedy is not to abandon your Reformed theology. The remedy is to take your Reformed theology to a deeper level. Let it reduce you to Jesus only. Let it humble you. Let this gracious doctrine make you a fun person to be around. The proof that we are Reformed will be all the wonderful Christians we discover around us who are not Reformed. Amazing people. Heroic people. Blood-bought people. People with whom we are eternally one – in Christ alone.

Brother Ray, I have been around the non-Reformed and they are not nearly as much fun as Reformed folks are. As much as I do enjoy Mark Dever’s company (sorry for name-dropping), I refuse to smoke a cigar or drink a Gin & Tonic in his company, not because I find him unworthy of such camaraderie but because I know my smoking or imbibing could get Mark in trouble. Baptists still bulk large in the prohibitionist camp and for that reason the merriment supplied by leisurely conversation over a pipe or a pint (better with both) is off limits to many of the Christian groups that Ortlund wants me to hang out with and have fun.

This may seem like a trivial point but it actually bears much more on the passage to which Ortlund appeals than it might seem at first. Paul’s battle with the Judaizers was over the misapplication of Scripture. In the Judaizers’ hands formerly God-made rules had become man-made norms because the work of Christ introduced freedom from the old covenant norms. In other words, the Judaizers were effectively substituting man-made rules for being Christian than the gospel that Paul was preaching. The Judaizers were denying Christian liberty in the way that contemporary believers do when they conclude that smoking or drinking is sin with (erroneous) appeals to Scripture. Without a proper biblical justification for their prohibitions they wind up enslaving Christians and thus burden the very gospel that Paul was out to protect among the Galatians.

In my own knowledge of church history, it is the Reformed (and other confessional Protestants) who understand much better than the “Jesus only” evangelicals the difference between the word of God and the words of men. And it is this difference that makes Reformed Protestants (with apologies to my friend, Mark Dever) more fun.