Where have all the Presbyterians gone?

This is a thoughtful post by Bill Evans from his blog the Ecclesial Calvinist.

A while back my friend Anthony Bradley posted an insightful and provocative blog piece asking why the popular influence of conservative Presbyterians prominent a few decades back (e.g., Jim Boice, R. C. Sproul, Sinclair Ferguson, and John Frame) seems to have waned in comparison to Baptists of a broadly Reformed soteriological persuasion.  I posted an extended comment at the time, and thought I would expand on it here. 

There are at least two big issues in play—the Baptistic Reformed success as driven by institutions (e.g., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, the Founders’ Movement) and gifted individuals (e.g., Don Carson, Al Mohler, Mark Dever, Mark Driscoll) on the one hand, and the apparent Presbyterian decline on the other. As a Presbyterian I’m not particularly well equipped to comment on the first, but I think I have something to offer about the second. 

Of course, the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition has been declining as a percentage of the American population since the nineteenth century.  But statistics available in resources like ARDA and the Yearbook of American and Canadian Churches indicate that some of the NAPARC denominations are plateaued or in decline.  This is worrisome, and the reasons are doubtless complex, having to do with social as well as theological factors.  Below are five general observations from the “for what it’s worth department.”

Read the rest of the post here.

On Interviews and Testimonies, Part IV

Continued from Part III

Questions About Interviewing Young Children

Let me take some time now to answer some common questions.  Remember, I am a pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). We don't practice paedocommunion.  I believe it is biblical.  I have taken exception to the Westminster Standards on this point.  What our church does practice is young child communion.  This is the closest we can get and still be true to our PCA church order.  What this means is that young children are admitted to the Table by the session when they give evidence of a credible, age-appropriate profession of faith.  I say all this because the questions that will be addressed in the next few posts will all relate to this practice—that is, interviewing young children.

What follows, then, is largely advice to fellow pastors and elders who practice some form of "young child" communion.

Q.  My five-year-old daughter is not mature enough to sit before nine blue-suited elders and answer probing questions.  She will freeze up.  Should she be denied the table for this reason?

This is a great question. Why should Christ’s little ones be denied the benefits of the Table simply because they might be too shy to answer questions under the intense scrutiny of a room full of older men?  After all, most adults are often quite intimidated when they meet with the full session of the church.  In the case of most interviews with adults for membership the Session is not examining for knowledge, but a credible profession of faith.  But when our young children come before us we interrogate them with questions about their knowledge of the Bible, the sacraments, etc.  We seldom, if ever, do this in membership interviews with adults!  Why should there be two standards—one for adults and another for our covenant children?  Isn’t it enough that our children confess their simple faith and trust in Jesus for the forgiveness of their sins and their hope of heaven?  I would argue that such a confession is sufficient, and that most of our four-year-old children would have an easier time before the elders if they knew that it wasn’t going to be an “examination.”  Our Lord made it easy for the little one’s to come to him.  When he saw his disciples making it difficult for parents to bring their little ones to him “he became indignant and said to them, ‘Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God’” (Mark. 10:14).  Therefore, the first way that we could deal with this problem is to drop the insanely intense oral examination that we often require of our children before they are allowed to come to the Table.

The Apostolic Succession of Suffering, Part I

"Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints" (Col. 1:24-26).

Lots of Christians steer clear of this passage in Paul's letter to the Colossians.  They are afraid that any discussion of what may be "lacking in Christ's sufferings" will water down our strong doctrine of the substitutionary atonement of Jesus for the sins of his people.  But apparently Paul didn't think so.  Otherwise he would have phrased this differently.

The place of suffering in the Apostolic ministry in the first century church needs more study.  The apostles talk about suffering a lot, more than we are comfortable with.  The Apostle Paul seems to have believed that his suffering in particular was pivotal in the progress and maturation of the developing church.  Here in Colossians 1 he "rejoices in his sufferings. . . for the sake of his body, that is the church" (24).  But he often rejoices in his afflictions and calls attention to his suffering as a model for ministry in the church.

For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake (Phil. 1.29).

For when we were with you, we kept telling you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction, just as it has come to pass, and just as you know (1 Thess. 3:4).

Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God,  who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel, for which I was appointed a preacher and apostle and teacher, which is why I suffer as I do (2 Tim. 1:8-12).

Salus extra ecclesiam non est

When Augustine was contemplating becoming a Christian Simplicianus, Ambrose's tudor and assistant, told him a story about Victorinus.  Victorinus was a Roman rhetorician and translator of neo-Platonic philosophical works. He had begun to read the Scriptures and study the Christian faith, encouraged by Simplicianus.  Simplicianus told Augustine that Victorinus once came to him in private saying, "I should like you to know that I am now a Christian."  Simplicianus replied, "That I will not believe, and I shall not count you as a Christian until I see you in the church of Christ."  That was wise advice from Simplicianus to Augustine, the young man for whom contemplation was everything.

The Latin in the title to this post means "There is no salvation outside of the church."  Typically, we add "ordinarily" to that slogan just to be sure that everyone understands that there are extraordinary situations where people do trust Jesus but are not able to join with a local congregation. The point is, however, that becoming a Christian is not simply something that happens in one's head.

The Name "Presbyterian"

I have frequently been asked why we call our churches "Presbyterian." Sometimes when I explain the reason I get another question: "Do you all think that your system of church government is that important?" That's a fair question.

Thirty years ago I might have thought so, but not anymore. I remember being young and idealistic about the wonders of the presbyterian "system" of government. You know, checks and balances, limited authority, plurality of leadership at the local level, a series of graded courts, grass-roots (bottom-up) authority, connectionalism, biblical names for church leaders, etc.

Having experienced abuses of power in non-presbyterian churches, my friends and I were positively ecstatic about the Presbyterian system of government and ready to embrace it all as ecclesiastical uptopia. We actually thought that the form of government itself would prevent abuses. That there was something about doing ecclesiastical government right that guaranteed the peace and purity of the church. To say the least, we were a bit naive.

Perhaps these kinds of misplaced hopes are endemic to Americans. After all, some people actually believe that the U.S. is "a government of laws and not of men." In business we think that coming up with a new organizational flow chart is the way to fix problems.

But it's not true. Laws don't govern, people do. Systems don't administer justice and provide leadership, people do. A business or nation can be organized out the wazoo for efficiency and productivity yet still fail miserably because the wrong kind of people are leading the company. A nation can have the most just laws and the most reasonable form of government and yet without the right men to fill the positions of authority none of that really matters.

Systems of ecclesiastical government do not lead churches, men do. Rotten men in finely crafted, biblically-labeled positions of authority will muck it all up. If you have ever read John Buchan's Witchwood, you'll know what I am talking about. Here's a novel where Presbyterian government is used to persecute a righteous minister and run him out of his parish. It's a sober reminder of the kinds of abuses that can inhabit presbyterianism.

Of course, we need not look any further than the New Testament. In the Gospels, the OT church leaders, precisely organized and assembled in conformity to God's revelation, nevertheless condemned Jesus to death. The presbyterian form of government did not prevent the priests and elders from committing the most heinous act of injustice in human history.

That is why God is much more concerned with the character of men who lead the church than he is about the precise system of ecclesiastical government.

Back to the OT church in the Gospels. There were in fact important irregularities in the way the Jews were organized. The high priest was not from the divinely-sanctioned line of Aaron through Zadok. But Jesus in his condemnation of the rulers of the Jews (Matt. 23 for example) never picks at the organizational problems. Jesus never mentions what we might call a technical problem with the High Priest's appointment. Rather, he goes after the men themselves, their foul character and their bad behavior.

God is much more concerned with the character of men who lead the church than he is about the precise system of ecclesiastical government.