Contents

info@9marks.org | www.9marks.org

Editor’s Note

Jonathan Leeman

THE BIBLE ON POLITY

Why New Testament Polity Is Prescriptive

Does the Bible tell us how to structure our churches? Yes.

By Bobby Jamieson

Contextualizing Ecclesiology

What does a biblical church look like in Central Asia? Is 9Marks’ model really biblical? 9Marks asks a veteran missionary these questions and more.

With Ed Roberts

THE BIBLE ON PHILOSOPHY OF MINISTRY

I Was a Pragmatist

How one pastor found pragmatism exhausting and man-centered, then found a better way.

By Jeramie Rinne

The Sufficiency of Scripture

What does it mean that Scripture is sufficient? And what is it sufficient for?

By Carl Trueman

When Is Pragmatism Prudent?

Finding the boundary between commands and sanctified common sense.

By Jamie Dunlop

The Twin Temptations of Pragmatism and Authoritarianism

Pragmatism and authoritarianism are opposite errors in a philosophy of ministry. But what’s striking is what they have in common.

By Jonathan Leeman

Book Review: Reclaiming the Sufficiency of Scripture

By Rob Rienow

Reviewed by Benjamin Wright

THE BIBLE ON THE CHURCH GATHERING

Regulative Like Jazz

If you think the regulative principle is overly prescriptive, think of it like jazz: a little bit of structure makes room for a whole lot of improv.

By Jonathan Leeman

Must All Regulative Principle Churches Look the Same?

Worship in different cultures should consist of the same elements but look very different. Why? Because the gospel doesn’t foster oppressive uniformity but glorious, diverse sameness.

By Trip Lee

What about Movie Clips? Applying the Regulative Principle

For our good, God has told us to color in the lines in corporate worship. Here’s some practice finding those lines.

By Aaron Menikoff

Does the Regulative Principle Demand Exclusive Psalmody?

Should churches only sing Psalms? No, says Robert Letham—but better all Psalms than no Psalms!

By Robert Letham

BOOK REVIEWS

Book Review: The Great Evangelical Recession

By John Dickerson

Reviewed by Matt McCullough

Book Review: Imitating God in Christ: Recapturing a Biblical Patttern

By Jason Hood

Reviewed by Bobby Jamieson

Book Review: The Trellis and the Vine

By Colin Marshall and Tony Payne

Reviewed by John Power

Book Review: Gospel-Centered Discipleship

By Jonathan Dodson

Reviewed by Zach Schlegel

Book Review: What Every Pastor Should Know

By Gary L. McIntosh and Charles Arn

Reviewed by Matt Felton

Book Review: Churches, Cultures & Leadership

By Mark Lau Branson and Juan Martinez

Reviewed by Geoff Chang

Book Review: Encouragement for Today’s Pastors: Help from the Puritans

By Joel Beeke and Terry Slachter

Reviewed by Patrick Schreiner

Book Review: Understanding Biblical Theology

By Edward Klink and Darian Lockett

Reviewed by Samuel Emadi

Audio

The State of the Southern Baptist Convention with Mark Dever, Danny Akin, Al Mohler, and David Platt

A roundtable discussion of the past, present, and future of the SBC.

Posted on July 1, 2013 *Listen Online Now »

Global Missions Today with Zane Pratt

Zane Pratt discusses the strange dynamics of cross-cultural missions in a Facebook world.

Posted on April 1, 2013 *Listen Online Now »

* This audio might not be supported by your particular device

Editor’s Note

Jonathan Leeman

It’s tough believing that Scripture is enough for building and leading churches. The “old man” in us is continually tempted to build our churches on other things, things we can see and measure. We want to rely on marketing research, personal charisma, good music, force of personality, or other natural devices.

It’s fine to rely on what the eyes can see in many areas of life, but Christian ministry is about supernatural change. Paul observes, “For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds” (2 Cor. 10:3-4).

Trusting God’s Word and Spirit to build our churches is an act of faith. Faith in God. Faith in his Word. And such faith is not natural, even for the Christian. It’s super-natural. God must give it. “Is not my word like fire,” he says to us, “and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces” (Jer. 23:39).

In this issue of the 9Marks Journal we take up the topic of Scripture’s sufficiency for the life of the church. Bobby Jamieson’s piece on the prescriptive nature of New Testament polity anchors the whole issue. Start here. The interview with Ed Roberts asks the inevitable follow up question to Jamieson: shouldn’t our context affect how we lead and build our churches?

From there we plunge into several discussions about what the sufficiency of Scripture means for our philosophy of ministry, with pieces by Jeramie Rinne, Carl Trueman, Jamie Dunlop, Benjamin Wright, and myself. Let me especially commend Rinne’s first-hand testimony, “I Was a Pragmatist.”

Several articles on the sufficiency of Scripture for our church gatherings follow. Hello, regulative principle. I argue that the regulative principle may seem more restrictive to churches, but it actually frees Christians. Trip Lee and Aaron Menikoff consider what the principle looks like practically in the life of a church. And Robert Letham answers a somewhat common question about whether or not churches should only sing the psalms.

I’ll admit upfront that this issue frustrates me. So many topics remain untouched; so many conversations cut short. But I hope it offers us all a good start.

Why New Testament Polity Is Prescriptive

By Bobby Jamieson

Today many evangelicals assume that the Bible does not prescribe a normative pattern of church polity. This is a natural—and convenient—assumption for a generation of church leaders who have been trained to value innovation, creativity, efficiency, and productivity on the model of a successful corporation. On the other hand, there are also a variety of common exegetical and theological views which support this position.

One of the goals of this essay is to assess a handful of these views. But my primary goal is to offer an inductive case for why New Testament patterns of church polity should be considered prescriptive—that is, binding on churches across time and space.

First, I will briefly lay out the most common argument against the existence of a normative New Testament church polity. Second, I will inductively examine the main contours of the New Testament evidence regarding church polity. Third, I will interact with alternate interpretations of this evidence. These two sections will constitute the bulk of the essay. Fourth, I will offer several reasons why the patterns of polity we see in the New Testament are not merely descriptive, but prescriptive.

One caveat up front: my argument for a normative New Testament polity is explicitly congregational. That’s because I understand the New Testament to prescriptively model a congregational polity. However, the argument as a whole still applies—some details excepted, of course—whether you see local elders, or a Presbyterian structure, as holding final authority in matters of discipline and doctrine.

I. THE ARGUMENT AGAINST A PRESCRIPTIVE NEW TESTAMENT POLITY

The most common against a normative New Testament polity is twofold: First, there is no consistent pattern of church polity in the New Testament. This means that it is impossible to argue that a single structure is “the” “biblical” pattern. Second, even if there were a consistent pattern of polity in the New Testament, that pattern might simply be descriptive, not prescriptive.

To take just one example, evangelical theologian Millard Erickson first points out the lack of explicit “didactic material” regarding church polity, then asserts, “When we turn to examine the descriptive passages, we find a second problem: there is no unitary pattern.” Further, Erickson writes, “Even if it were clear that there is one exclusive pattern of organization in the New Testament, that pattern would not necessarily be normative for us today. It might be merely the pattern which was, not the pattern which must be.”1

In response to this common claim I’ll first survey the New Testament evidence on church polity then engage some alternate interpretations of this evidence, before concluding with reasons why we should view this material as prescriptive.

II. MAPPING THE EVIDENCE REGARDING NEW TESTAMENT POLITY

I’ll examine the main contours of the New Testament’s evidence regarding church polity under four main headings:

1. The role of the apostles

2. Local church leaders

3. Deacons and their predecessors, and

4. Congregational authority over who is included and excluded from the church.

1. The Apostles

First, the role of the apostles. Andrew F. Walls rightly notes that, because of Jesus’ promise that the Holy Spirit would come and guide them into all truth, the apostles “are the norm of doctrine and fellowship in the NT church (Acts 2:42, cf. 1 Jn 2:19).”2 In other words, because of their unique role as authorized, Spirit-endowed witnesses to Christ, the apostles’ teaching was to be accepted and obeyed by all Christians. So, for example, Paul could say to the Thessalonians, “If anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed” (2 Thess 3:14). Yet given this universal normative authority,

…the NT has less to say than might be expected of the apostles as ruling the church. They are the touchstones of doctrine, the purveyors of the authentic tradition about Christ: apostolic delegates visit congregations which reflect new departures for the church (Acts 8:14ff.; 11:22ff.). But the Twelve did not appoint the Seven; the crucial Jerusalem Council consisted of a large number of elders as well as the apostles (Acts 15:6; cf. 12, 22): and two apostles served among the ‘prophets and teachers’ of the church at Antioch (Acts 13:1). Government was a distinct gift (1 Cor 12:28), normally exercised by local elders: apostles were, by virtue of their commission, mobile. Nor are they even prominent in the administration of the sacraments (cf. 1 Cor 1:14).3

Thus, despite their role as the norm of doctrine and fellowship for the whole New Testament church, the apostles clearly made room for the exercise of other kinds of authority by other individuals—or whole congregations (as in Acts 6:1-6, 1 Cor. 5:1-13, and 2 Cor. 2:6).

A final aspect of the apostles’ role that is relevant to our discussion is the unrepeatable, non-transferable nature of the apostolic office. Again Walls is helpful:

In the nature of things, the office could not be repeated or transmitted: any more than the underlying historic experiences could be transmitted to those who had never known the incarnate Lord, or received a resurrection appearance…while the NT shows the apostles taking care that a local ministry is provided, there is no hint of the transmission of the peculiar apostolic functions to any part of that ministry.4

To summarize: The apostles’ teaching on all matters of faith and practice was the norm for the New Testament church. It remains so today through the inspired Scripture which they and their associates wrote. As Walls writes, “The apostolic witness was maintained in the abiding work of the apostles and in what became normative for later ages, its written form in the NT.”5 Second, the apostles did not tend to rule the churches directly, but made room for other exercises and structures of authority—on which more below. Third, the New Testament does not present the apostolate as an ongoing office, but as limited to those who were authoritative eye-witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection.

2. Local Church Leaders

The second main category to consider is local church leadership. Leaders in local churches in the New Testament are called by a variety of names: leader,6 elder,7 overseer,8 and pastor.9 In addition, while the following designations may fall short of titles, we also read of “those who are over you” (Gk. hoi proistamenoi; Rom. 12:8; 1 Thess. 5:12) and of those who have the gift of “administration” (Gk. kuberneseis; 1 Cor. 12:28), which both seem to indicate a leadership role. Contra those who see “irreconcilable diversity”10 in the New Testament evidence, I would argue that the following points demonstrate consistency and clarity in the leadership of New Testament churches.11

First, it is commonly recognized that the terms elder, overseer, and pastor are all used interchangeably in the New Testament.12 Thus it would be a distortion of the textual evidence to read any distinctions in office or function into these different terms.13

Second, Paul consistently appointed a number of elders in each local church he planted and he instructed his apostolic delegate Titus to do the same. In Acts 14:23 we read, “And when they [that is, Paul and Barnabas] had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed.” At least on his so-called first missionary journey, it was Paul’s consistent practice to appoint a number of leaders who were called elders in each local church.

And, in Titus 1:5 we read, “This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you.” Paul’s practice of appointing elders in every church was not merely a personal preference, but something he commanded his assistants to do as well.

Third, notice that in Titus 1:5 Paul speaks about elders as part of the “order” into which local churches needed to be put. Paul seems to have in mind here a set pattern or form to which each local church should conform.

Fourth, throughout the New Testament we find a consistent pattern of plural elders in a single local church. For example, Paul called the elders of the Ephesian church to come to him (Acts 20:17), and James instructs a sick believer to call the elders of the church to come pray over him and anoint him with oil (Jas. 5:14).14

Fifth, Paul’s references to the qualifications for elders with no further explanation in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1 seem to presuppose that the office of elder was already known both to Timothy and Titus and to the churches they were ministering in. This points away from an understanding of elders as an ad hoc leadership position, and toward an understanding of elders as an established and widely recognized office among New Testament churches.15

Sixth, the descriptions of leaders which fall outside the elder/overseer/pastor matrix need not imply the existence of other offices or of different church structures. The terms hegoumenos and proistamai are functional descriptions that could easily apply to both informal leaders in the church and to elders. In fact, Paul uses proistamai to describe the work of elders in 1 Timothy 5:17.

Seventh, silence about elders does not prove their absence. Some scholars make much of the fact that Paul doesn’t mention elders in Romans or 1 and 2 Corinthians, claiming this is evidence that elders were not uniformly present in even the “Pauline churches.” But Paul doesn’t mention elders in his letter to the Ephesians either, yet we know from Acts 20:17-38 that the congregation in Ephesus did indeed have a plurality of leaders who were called “elders.”

Eighth, consider the role of elders. By piecing together the work implied by the qualifications for elders (such as being apt to teach; 1 Tim 3:2; cf. Tit 1:9), other Pauline teaching such as 1 Tim 5:17-25, Paul’s charge to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20:18-35, and Peter’s charge to his fellow elders in 1 Peter 5:1-4, we can see that the primary duties of elders are to teach sound doctrine, direct the affairs of the church, and exercise spiritual oversight over those entrusted to their care.

This brief survey suggests that New Testament churches were consistently led by a number of men who were recognized as elders and who were to teach sound doctrine, direct the affairs of the church, and exercise spiritual oversight. What diversity there appears to be in the New Testament’s descriptions of local church leaders seems rather to interlock with than to contradict this consistent pattern.

3. Deacons and Their Predecessors

Third, more briefly, we turn to deacons and their predecessors. Our English word “deacon” is simply a transliteration of the Greek word diakonos. The term and its cognates occur frequently throughout the New Testament, but in only two contexts does diakonos unambiguously refer to a local church office: Philippians 1:1 and 1 Timothy 3:8-13.16 In 1 Timothy 3:8, after listing the qualifications for elders, Paul says, “Deacons likewise must be dignified, not double tongued, not addicted to much wine,” and then enumerates the rest of the qualifications for deacons. And in Philippians 1:1 Paul greets “all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons.”

Although the New Testament’s witness to deacons is slim, some conclusions about their role may be tentatively drawn.

First, that “deacon” is a recognized office in the church alongside elders/overseers seems to be a legitimate inference of both of these passages. For Paul to specially mention deacons along with overseers in Philippians 1:1 would make little sense unless the deacons, along with the overseers, held a publicly recognized office.

Further, Paul’s listing of qualifications for deacons in 1 Timothy 3:8-13 with no further explanation seems to indicate that deacons were an established office in the church.

Second, while the New Testament provides little explicit instruction about the role of deacons, one may infer from their title that their primary role is to serve the church in physical matters.17 Further, unlike elders (see 1 Tim. 3:2), deacons are not required to teach. While certainly not prohibiting deacons from teaching, this indicates that it is not one of the responsibilities of the office. And, while elders are repeatedly described as ruling the church (1 Tim. 5:17) and shepherding the church (Acts 20:28, 1 Pet. 5:2), deacons apparently do not have this responsibility of spiritual oversight. This is indicated by the lack of any mention of this role for deacons and by other, more subtle differences between their qualifications and elders’.18

Finally, what does acts Acts 6 teach about the origin of the office of deacon? While some see the events of Acts 6 as founding the office of deacon, it seems better to view the Seven appointed in Acts 6 as predecessors to deacons, “proto-deacons.” On this reading, at least part of what Luke is doing in his account in Acts is explaining the origins of what came to be the office of deacon in the apostolic churches.19

4. Congregational Authority Over Inclusion and Exclusion

A final aspect of New Testament polity which will prove critical to our discussion is the issue of authority over who is included in and excluded from the church.

Since polity deals with structures which govern and legitimate the exercise of authority, there is no more basic question of church polity than who ultimately decides who does and does not belong to the church. And, however much certain evangelicals want to point toward a “centered set” model for conceiving of the local church, the New Testament indicates that there is to be a clear, definite border between the church and the world (see, e.g., 1 Cor. 5:9-13). Thus in a number of places local assemblies of Christians are instructed to exclude from their fellowship anyone whose life decisively contradicts their claim to have faith in Christ.20

The question naturally arises, then: who decides who is in and who is out? In keeping with the desire to be as inductive and descriptive as possible at this stage, I will briefly canvass relevant New Testament passages before considering whether these passages, along with the rest of what we’ve seen of New Testament patterns of polity, should function normatively for the church today.

In what follows I’ll argue that the New Testament normatively models what we tend to call “congregationalism.” But even if you disagree with this reading, you still need to demonstrate who in the church is authorized to do what. More specifically, who has the authority to include and exclude from the church?

In Matthew 16, when Peter confesses that Jesus is the Christ, Jesus responds in part:

And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. (Matt. 16:18-19).

Jonathan Leeman has recently argued that these endlessly disputed words of Jesus are an institutional charter for the church, which “formalizes the church’s existence on earth, establishes its authority, outlines its basic rights and privileges, and describes the essentials of belonging.”21 Leeman then examines the dense set of mixed metaphors in the present passage, the “application” of the authority of the keys in Matthew 18:15-20, and the relationship of these two passages to Matthew 28:18-20. In light of all this, Leeman proposes that this “charter” from Jesus says,

I hereby grant my apostolic church, the one eschatological and heavenly gathering, the authority to act as the custodians and witnesses of my kingdom on earth. I authorize this royal and priestly body, wherever it’s manifest among two or three witnesses formally gathered in my name, to publicly affirm and identify themselves with me and with all individuals who credibly profess my name and follow me as Lord; to oversee the discipleship of these by teaching them everything that I have commanded; to exclude all fall and disobedient professors; and to make more disciples, identifying these new believers with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit through baptism.22

In sum, Leeman argues that in Matthew 16:18-19 Jesus grants to each local church the ambassadorial authority to representatively declare who does and does not belong to the kingdom of heaven. The church wields this authority by uniting professing believers to itself, overseeing their discipleship, and excluding false professors.23

But who wields this authority in the churches of the New Testament? It seems that in the New Testament, it is consistently the local congregation as a whole which wields this authority. For instance, in Matthew 18:17 Jesus tells those who are confronting an erring brother to “tell it to the church. If he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.” Jesus’ teaching here seems to indicate that the local assembly as a whole has final judicatory authority over its members. It is the church which is to plead with the sinning professor to repent, and it is the church which is to enact the exclusion which Jesus requires if the person does not repent.24

Or again, in 1 Corinthians 5, Paul instructs the church at Corinth about how to handle the man who is sleeping with his father’s wife, saying, “When you are assembled in the name of the Lord Jesus and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord” (1 Cor. 5:4-5). Here it seems that, even with an apostle providing instruction, it was the local assembly as a whole which was to exclude a scandalously sinning member. Paul’s letter addresses the entire “church of God that is in Corinth” (1 Cor. 1:2), and in this context he is clearly envisioning the church in Corinth acting as an entire gathered assembly.

This interpretation is corroborated by Paul’s comment in 2 Corinthians 2:6 that “the punishment inflicted by the majority is enough,” so that the church should welcome back the now-repentant individual. That the punishment is inflicted by the majority indicates that the congregation as a whole acted deliberatively to exclude this individual from their fellowship. Moreover, Paul’s command that the church restore the man confirms that the whole congregation has the authority not only to exclude unrepentant members but to include those who repent and maintain credible professions.

Certainly these accounts do not provide exhaustive procedural detail or answer every question we may have about the discipline of the early church. But they do seem to indicate a consistent pattern in which the local congregation as a whole exercised authority over who is included or excluded from the church.

III. ANSWERING ALTERNATE INTERPRETATIONS

With this all-too-cursory survey of New Testament patterns of polity in place, I turn now to evaluate three alternate interpretations of the evidence which militate against a normative reading of New Testament patterns of polity.

1. “Irreconcilable Diversity”

First, I will briefly assess the argument that the New Testament displays “irreconcilable diversity” in its patterns of church polity.25 This is simply a more technical way of stating Erickson’s point that there is no “unitary pattern” of polity in the New Testament.

Ernst Käsemann’s views may be taken as representative of many New Testament scholars when he says,

No romantic postulate, however enveloped it may be in the cloak of salvation history, can be permitted to weaken the sober observation that the historian is unable to speak of an unbroken unity of New Testament ecclesiology. In that field he becomes aware of our own situation in microcosm—differences, difficulties, contradictions, at best an ancient ecumenical confederation without an Ecumenical Council.26

Millard Erickson’s view mentioned above is somewhat similar, though more tentative. Erickson identifies the seemingly “monarchical” exercise of apostolic authority, the “strong role” of the elders, and the elements of congregational authority seen in the New Testament as all standing somewhat in tension with each other.27

A number of things can be said in response to such claims. Often, especially among those influenced by F.C. Baur’s reconstruction of the early church, interpreters will find difficulties and contradictions where a more patient reading of the text would find none. For example, some scholars will make much of the fact that Paul gives detailed instructions regarding the exercise of charismatic gifts in 1 Corinthians, which contains no mention of official church officers. On the other hand, the Pastoral Epistles and Acts contain no mention of regularly occurring charismatic gifts in the ongoing life of local congregations, and prominently feature official, so-called “hierarchical” structures of ministry, namely, the offices of elder and deacon. But silence about local church officers is not conclusive evidence of their absence, as we’ve discussed above. Nor is the “charismatic” nature of the Corinthian church’s worship necessarily opposed to a recognized, official structure of church leadership.

It seems that some interpreters have constructed complete portraits of the churches depicted in Corinth, the Pastorals, and Acts which go beyond the evidence, and then have found that these portraits contradict one another. In such cases we need to consider again what the texts do and do not tell us.

To turn to Erickson’s arguments: even though he sticks somewhat closer to the text, Erickson’s assertions about the lack of a unitary pattern indicate that he considers the discrete elements of polity in the New Testament to be mutually exclusive.28 Erickson offers no detailed discussion of why these elements cannot coexist in a unified polity in one local church; he merely asserts that they are incompatible.

Erickson is right to recognize that the apostles, for example, exercise an authority that extends beyond the local church and thus appears “monarchical.” But this only contradicts congregational authority if one believes that the office of apostle is to continue in the church in perpetuity. If, on the other hand, we recognize that the office of apostle is limited to those who were authoritative eye witnesses of the resurrection (as Walls argues above), then we are left with the elders and the congregation as the two main sources of authority. And there are many senses in which the elders and the congregation can exercise interdependent and interlocking kinds of authority. In other words, we do not have to choose between elder leadership and the kind of congregational authority we’ve sketched above.

If this is the case, the New Testament presents loci of authority in the local church which complement rather than contradict each other.

2. The Question of Development

Another alternate reading worth engaging is the claim that development in church structure within the New Testament renders all patterns of polity relative. Since a full chronological analysis of the New Testament’s evidence of polity patterns would take us too far afield, I will simply offer a few tentative comments on the question of development.

First, it seems clear from the New Testament that “apostle” is not a perpetually continuing office throughout the life of the church, but is rather tied to the first generation after Christ. Certainly the apostles continue to function as the norm for teaching and fellowship in all churches at all times through the inspired New Testament writings. But this is an authority exercised in absentia, not through living men who possess the office and gifts of an apostle.

Therefore, the authority which the apostles exercised over multiple churches is tied to their office and is not a pattern for the exercise of similar authority in the church today. This would rule out any appeal to a specifically apostolic activity as justification for, say, a “bishop” who possesses authority over multiple congregations. Yet this is precisely the appeal Peter Toon makes when he writes,

When these words [Titus 1:5-7] were written in the first century, all the churches acknowledged that the visiting apostle or evangelist or representative of the apostle had an authority in certain matters ‘above’ that of the local presbyters/bishops and the local congregation of Christ’s flock.29

Yet unless Toon is prepared to equate apostles with bishops, there is no basis for using the former as a justification for the latter.

Once appeal to uniquely apostolic authority as a basis for polity is taken away, the New Testament demonstrates a consistent pattern of leadership by a plurality of elders in the context of congregational authority over inclusion and exclusion from the assembly. In other words, once we understand the unique and unrepeatable aspects of the apostles’ ministry, the diversity of the New Testament’s patterns of polity begins to look somewhat less “irreconcilable.”

Second, if we take the New Testament’s historical claims at face value, which we have every reason to do, then no legitimate case can be made that official “offices” within the church were a late development. Paul’s first missionary journey can be dated to around 49 AD,30 at which time Luke says that Paul and Barnabas appointed elders in every church. Paul’s mention of “overseers and deacons” in Philippians 1:1 seems to indicate the existence of the two offices in a way that neatly harmonizes with the discussion of their qualifications in 1 Timothy 3. And this occurs in a letter that should be dated around 60 AD, which is well within the lifetime of at least some of the other apostles. And again, a conservative dating of the Pastoral Epistles places them just a few years after Philippians.31

What this means is that the large amount of time asserted to have elapsed between the church’s earlier, “charismatic” phase and the later crystallization of a more ordered church structure is greatly exaggerated. Certainly there appears to be some development, for example, from the Seven appointed in Acts 6 to the office of deacon. But, what little development there is leads to a stable polity which includes elders leading, deacons serving, and the congregation having final responsibility for the credibility of its members’ professions.

Granted, to arrive at this picture requires some careful synthesis because these elements are rarely all mentioned in the course of one book in the New Testament, and they are never delineated in a comprehensive and systematic manner.32 Yet, given our survey of the evidence above, in the absence of compelling evidence there is no reason to assume that as the apostolic age wore on the churches developed in any different trajectories.

In sum, while there is clearly some ecclesiological development within the New Testament, it seems reasonable to discern something of a “final form” New Testament ecclesiology, particularly as seen in the Pastoral Epistles, which are explicitly concerned with the safe preservation of the gospel and the church into the post-apostolic era.33

3. One ekklesia, multiple congregations?

Another argument advanced against the reading we sketched above is based on the claim that the New Testament sometimes uses the word ekklesia to refer to a “church” comprised of a number of discrete congregations. For instance, D.A. Carson has written,

One of the most striking things about its use in the New Testament is that it occurs in the plural when referring to the various assemblies (“churches”) of a region or province (e.g. “the churches of Judea,” Gal. 1:22), but it is restricted to the singular when referring to assemblies of Christians in any one city. In cities like Jerusalem, Antioch, Ephesus and Rome the Christians multiplied so rapidly that they could not possibly meet in one assembly; and even if they could have found a large enough venue, it was impolitic to meet that way and draw attention to their numbers. But although there were thus many “assemblies” or “congregations” in, say, Colossae or Jerusalem, Paul writes to the church at Colossae and goes up to consult with the church in Jerusalem, not the “churches” at Colossae and Jerusalem.34

Based on this line of interpretation, Carson has elsewhere offered the following warning for those who would see the consistent pattern of plural elders in local churches as normative:

A plurality of elders, if not mandated, appears to have been common, and perhaps the norm. On the other hand, only “church” (ekklesia in the singular) is used for the congregation of all believers in one city, never “churches”; one reads of churches in Galatia, but the church in Antioch or Jerusalem. Thus it is possible, though not certain, that a single elder may have exercised authority in relation to one house group—a house group that in some cases constituted part of the citywide church—so that the individual elder would nevertheless be one of many in that citywide “church” taken as a whole.35

In brief, Carson is suggesting that if multiple congregations constituted one city-wide church, and if we further speculate that each elder oversaw one house church, then we may not be justified in claiming that plural eldership is a binding norm for churches to follow. Historically, others have used this same textual argument to justify Presbyterian or Episcopalian forms of polity or, more recently, multi-site churches.

Yet the New Testament does not appear to substantiate Carson’s assertion that in certain cities “the Christians multiplied so rapidly that they could not possibly meet in one assembly; and even if they could have found a large enough venue, it was impolitic to meet that way and draw attention to their numbers.” Specifically, three lines of textual evidence argue against this.

First, Acts repeatedly states that the entire number of the Jerusalem church met together.36 Immediately after three thousand souls were added to the church (Acts 2:41), we read, “And all who believed were together and had all things in common...And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts” (Acts 2:44, 46). This plainly indicates that the same “all” who were together and had everything in common also met in the temple.

Or again, Acts 4:4 says that “the number of the men came to about five thousand.” However large we estimate the whole church to be based on the number of men, Acts 5:12 (NIV) clearly indicates that they all assembled in one place: “And all the believers used to meet together in Solomon’s Colonnade.”

Again, in Acts 6:2, the apostles “summoned the full number of the disciples” in order to take care of the food distribution problem. Clearly, Solomon’s Colonnade was large enough to accommodate a meeting of several thousand disciples, which is easy enough to imagine given its generous dimensions. And the text says the disciples did in fact all meet together.

Second, although the church in Antioch consisted of “a great number…a great many people,” (Acts 11:21, 26), Paul and Barnabas were able on two separate occasions to gather the entire church together (Acts 14:27, 15:30).

Third, although Carson doesn’t mention Corinth, it is often asserted that the church in Corinth consisted of a number of smaller house churches.37 Yet Paul, addressing the entire “church of God that is in Corinth,” refers to their assembling as a whole at least seven times.38 For instance, Paul tells them to pursue a matter of church discipline “when you are assembled” (1 Cor. 5:4). In the first five of these instances Paul refers to the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, and in the latter two he refers to coming together for mutual edification through singing and instruction.

In 1 Corinthians 11:18 Paul explicitly says, “For, in the first place, when you come together as a church, I hear that there are divisions among you.” Here Paul seems to regard their assembling together as constitutive of their being a church. In view of the meaning of ekklesia (“assembly”), this would hardly seem opaque to Greek-speaking Christians. For Paul, it is from this regular, collective assembly that their identity as the church of God in Corinth derives.

Further, Paul instructs the Corinthians to put something aside “on the first day of the week” (1 Cor. 16:2). This seems more likely to be a reference to their corporate meeting on the first day than to an individual, private activity of setting money aside. This would also seem to weigh in favor of understanding Paul’s other references to their “coming together” as regular, weekly assemblies rather than extraordinary events.39 And it would constitute yet one more reference to the church assembling together as a whole, albeit an implicit one. On balance it seems best to understand that all of Paul’s references to the Corinthian church coming together as a whole indicate not only that the entire number of believers in Corinth could assemble in one place, but that they in fact did so, weekly.40

This interpretation is corroborated by the fact that, in his epistle to the Romans which he very likely wrote from Corinth, Paul refers to “Gaius, who is the host to me and to the whole church” (Rom. 16:23).41 Thus, whether it was impolitic to meet in this way or not, it appears that the Christians in Jerusalem, Antioch, and Corinth did in fact assemble as one congregation in each city, despite their large numbers.

If in the New Testament multiple congregations sometimes constituted one church, then this would call into question my earlier argument that the local congregation held final authority over matters of membership and discipline. If one church consists of multiple congregations, then who has authority over whom? Yet I’ve argued that the New Testament doesn’t support this assertion, and in fact the evidence from Jerusalem, Antioch, and Corinth indicates that groups called “churches” regularly assembled as unified wholes.

Instead of speculating about what surely was the case, we do better to stick with what the New Testament plainly states was the case.

To recap: In section one I highlighted the primary argument against a normative reading of New Testament church polity. In section two I attempted to sketch the main lines of local church structure(s) seen in the New Testament and concluded that a consistent pattern is discernible. Third, in this section I offered an answer to three main arguments against a consistent pattern of polity in the New Testament: (i) the assertion that the texts display an irreconcilable diversity of patterns of polity, (ii) the argument that development in church structure within the New Testament renders all patterns of polity relative, and (iii) the claim that one church in a city consisted of multiple congregations. This third argument, of course, would relativize two of the main polity patterns I’ve argued are consistent across the New Testament: plural elder leadership and congregational authority over membership and discipline.

IV. THE PATTERN WHICH MUST BE, NOT MERELY THE PATTERN WHICH WAS

Yet even if there was in fact a consistent pattern of polity in the New Testament, what about Erickson’s claim that such a pattern may simply have been “the pattern which was, not the pattern which must be”?42 How are we to decide whether all of these various passages are descriptive or prescriptive? How we answer this question will determine whether we understand following Scriptural patterns of polity to be a matter of obedience or indifference. Thus, we turn to the question of whether these patterns and instructions are normative for the church today.

The first thing to point out is that we should be very slow to dismiss what is in fact a consistent pattern of polity—or more precisely, a number of discrete elements that fit into a coherent if skeletal structure. Most authors who argue that the New Testament’s patterns of polity are not binding also argue that they are not consistent with each other. Far fewer—if any—see a consistent, unified pattern and yet argue that it is not binding today.43

If we are confronted with a consistent pattern, we should think twice about jettisoning it because of the “lack of prescriptive material.”44 It is clear from the New Testament that, in general, apostolic practices functioned as a binding precedent for all churches (cf. 1 Cor. 11:16). In principle, there is no reason why this wouldn’t extend to matters of church leadership and structure.

That apostolic example was to function normatively is something that historic Baptists have been readier to embrace than contemporary ones. William Williams, a founding professor at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, is worth quoting at length:

Should the disciples of our Lord regard this organization as a model obligatory upon them to adopt, or has he left the form of church polity discretionary with his people?...If any and all forms are not equally adapted to subserve the high ends for which churches are divinely instituted, then there is a form better adapted than others; and if there be one better adapted than another, the Saviour would surely not leave it to fallible human wisdom to find it out…We must believe, in view of the important bearing of the form of their organization upon the successful or unsuccessful accomplishment of the high ends of their institution, that they were under the guidance of the Holy Spirit in this matter, as well as in the enunciation of the doctrinal principles of Christianity: so that the polity instituted by them must be regarded as the expression of divine wisdom on this subject.

Williams continues, putting a point on it:

The real question, then, seems to be this—Are we under obligation to adopt that polity which divine wisdom has pointed out to be the best adapted to promote the ends of church organization, or may we feel at liberty to change it or to substitute some other, according to our views of fitness and expediency? Such a question does not admit of debate. It is not contended that there is a system, logically propounded, and laid down in systematic form. But neither are the doctrines of the gospel so laid down; and for a wise purpose. We are thereby left to a diligent search of the Scriptures, and by comparing Scripture with Scripture, and collecting instruction from the scattered and incidental references to doctrines in the Scriptures, to arrange them into a systematic, harmonious body of doctrine. Similarly, with the great leading principles of church government.45

Further, I would argue that the passages which establish the main lines of New Testament church polity carry normative force in themselves. Take plural elder leadership. This appears to be a consistent pattern seen throughout the New Testament. It derives from habitual practice of the apostle Paul (Acts 14:23). It is a practice Paul commanded his apostolic delegate to follow (Tit. 1:5). It is part of the “order” into which, according to Paul, each church was to be set (Tit. 1:5). Finally, the form in which the qualifications for elders come to us (1 Tim. 3:1-7), with no further explanation or indication that their role is limited to a specific situation in the church. All this taken together seems to indicate that our churches are to do what Timothy’s church in Ephesus was to do: to look out for men who meet the qualifications, and, as the Lord provides them, appoint them to the office of elder.

Regarding congregational authority over inclusion in and exclusion from the church, I’d argue similarly: the passages which establish this authority rule out the exercise of that same authority by any other group or individual. Therefore, they establish a normative, binding standard for churches to follow.

Countless Baptists and Congregationalists have observed—perhaps anachronistically but, I would argue, insightfully—that when Jesus said “tell it to the church” in Matthew 18:17, he didn’t say, “Tell it to the presbytery” or “bishop” or “pope.” That is, Jesus established the local congregation as a whole as the final deliberative and judicatory authority over who is to be included in or excluded from the congregation.

This teaching, moreover, was given to Jesus’ disciples before the church as such yet existed. I would argue that this actually confirms its universal relevance and application to all local churches. Thus when Paul tells the Corinthian assembly as a whole to act to exclude the immoral man (1 Cor. 5:4-5), he apparently was both following and confirming the abiding authority of Jesus’ teaching on this subject.

This pattern of congregational authority is shown to be a binding norm most clearly in light of Jesus’ grant of authority to the local congregation in the famous “keys of the kingdom” passage (Matt 16:18-19). If Jonathan Leeman is correct to argue that this passage amounts to an institutional charter for the local church, then the question of authority is thrown into sharp relief. According to Leeman’s reading, Jesus is granting the local church on earth the authority to representatively declare who does and does not belong to the kingdom of heaven by means of “binding and loosing” professing believers to and from its fellowship.46

If the local church is endowed with this representative, ambassadorial authority, the question naturally arises as to who is authorized to exercise this authority. When authority is involved, the question of authorization is inescapable. And in this case, because the authority is over who is included and excluded from the church, we are immediately involved in questions of polity.

This doesn’t bear directly on the leadership structure of the church per se, in terms of what the leaders are called or how many there are to be. But it does bear very much on polity, in the sense that if Jesus authorized this exercise of authority, it may be exercised only by those whom he authorized to do it.47 Thus, if the local congregation as a whole is authorized to exercise this authority of the keys of the kingdom, then no an extra-congregational authority such as a bishop or presbytery is warranted to exercise it. Nor is any subgroup within the congregation, such as the elders, licensed to seize the final say such matters. Authority that represents the kingdom of heaven requires a heavenly authorization. And the authorization Jesus has given warrants this authority to be exercised only by the local congregation as a whole.48 If someone wants to argue that the elders or presbytery or a bishop have been so authorized to exercise the keys, then the onus is upon him to demonstrate from the text where this authorization occurs, or even where it is exemplified in the life of the early church. Where, for instance, do we see in the New Testament an elder board or a bishop unilaterally excommunicating an individual from membership in the church in the manner that Paul commands the Corinthian church to do (1 Cor. 5:4)?

Whether you agree or disagree about the congregation having final authority, you can’t escape the question of who is authorized to do what in the church. Where and how is the church authorized to act in order to hold its members and elders accountable?

When it comes to the authority of the elders, the question to ask is, how does the New Testament authorize them? They do bear a distinct authority inasmuch as church members are commanded to obey them (Heb 13:17), which entails an authority that is not possessed jointly by all church members. Clearly, they are authorized with “oversight” (e.g. Acts 20; 1 Peter 5) and “teaching” (e.g. Acts 20; 1 Tim. 3).

In sum, there are several reasons why we should regard the skeletal church structure we’ve gleaned from the New Testament as normative. First, even though finding a “pattern” of church polity necessarily involves careful synthesis of various textual data, it does seem that there is a discernibly consistent pattern of polity that can be gleaned from the New Testament. Therefore, we should think twice before simply setting it aside.

Second, we have good textual and theological reasons for seeing apostolic practice in this area as establishing a binding precedent.

Third, in various ways, specific texts which bear upon polity seem to indicate that these patterns and prescriptions carry a lasting normative force.

Fourth, an exercise of authority on behalf of heaven requires a heavenly authorization. Thus, perhaps most explicitly in matters of membership and discipline, it would appear that insofar as church polity touches these matters, which it inescapably does, it is to be regulated by divine warrant given in Scripture.

Fifth, since church leaders have a specific authority not granted to every member of the congregation, this exercise of authoritative spiritual oversight in the local church likewise requires a divine authorization.

For all of these reasons, we should regard the New Testament’s pattern of polity not merely as the pattern which was, but as the pattern which must be. And we should lead our churches—slowly and incrementally, if necessary—to conform to Scripture’s teaching in this area.

1 Millard Erickson, Christian Theology (2nd ed., Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 1094-5.

2 Andrew F. Walls, “Apostle,” in New Bible Dictionary, ed. I. Howard Marshall, A.R. Millard, J.I. Packer and D.J. Wiseman (3rd ed.; Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1996), 58.

3 Ibid., 59.

4 Ibid., 59-60.

5 Ibid., 60.

6 Gk. hegoumenos; Heb 13:7, 17, 24.

7 Gk. presbuteros; Acts 11:30, 14:12, 15:2, 4, 6, 22, 23, 16:4, 20:17, 21:18; 1 Tim 5:17, 19; Tit 1:5; Jas 5:14; 1 Pet 5:1, 5.

8 Gk. episkopos; Acts 20:28; Phil 1:1, 1 Tim 3:1-2; Tit 1:7; cf. 1 Pet 5:2.

9 Gk. poimen; Eph 4:11; cf. Acts 20:28, 1 Pet 5:2.

10 “Irreconcilable diversity is Markus Bockmuehl’s phrase. See Markus Bockmuehl, “Is There a New Testament Doctrine of the Church?” in Scripture’s Doctrine and Theology’s Bible: How the New Testament Shapes Christian Dogmatics, ed. Markus Bockmuehl and Alan J. Torrance (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 35, and my response to Bockmuehl’s view in section III below.

11 Most of the following discussion finds agreement with (though is not directly dependent on) Wayne Grudem, Systematic Theology: An Introduction to Biblical Doctrine (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007), 912-920, along with Wayne Grudem, “Why Don’t We Follow the Uniform New Testament Pattern of Plural Elders to Govern Our Churches?” Evangelical Theological Society Papers. Portland: Theological Research Exchange Network, 1993.

12 See, for example, D.A. Carson, “Church, Authority in the,” in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter Elwell (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 249. See further Mark Dever’s discussion in “The Doctrine of the Church,” in A Theology for the Church, ed. Daniel L. Akin (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2007), 801-802.

13 Some, such as R. Alastair Campbell in his work Elders: Seniority within Earliest Christianity (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1995), dispute this point and offer an alternative reading. However, given that Paul can use versions of all three terms interchangeably, in the same context, any reading which drives a wedge between the terms would seem to contradict the plain sense of the text.

14 For more examples of plural elders in one local congregation see Dever, “The Doctrine of the Church,” 803-804.

15 For a justification for viewing eldership as an office, not merely a function, see Benjamin L. Merkle, The Elder and Overseer: One Office in the Early Church (New York: Peter Lang, 2003).

16 Whether Romans 16:1 indicates that Phoebe held the office of deacon isn’t crucial for our present discussion, though it does bear on the issue of whether or not the New Testament allows for women deacons. For arguments in favor of the view that Romans 16:1 refers to the office of deacon, see Thomas R. Schreiner, Romans (Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament; Grand Rapids: Baker, 1998), 787-788. For arguments in favor of understanding 1 Timothy 3:11 as a reference to deaconesses, and therefore of the legitimacy of having female deacons today, see Andreas J Köstenberger, “Hermeneutical and Exegetical Challenges in Interpreting the Pastoral Epistles,” in Entrusted With the Gospel: Paul’s Theology in the Pastoral Epistles, ed. Andreas J. Köstenberger and Terry L. Wilder (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2010), 24-26.

17 See Benjamin L. Merkle, 40 Questions About Elders and Deacons (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2008), 238-243.

18 See further Benjamin L. Merkle, “The Biblical Qualifications and Responsibilities of Deacons.” 9Marks Journal, 7.2 (2010): 8-11 [online]. Available from: http://www.9marks.org/journal/biblical-qualifications-and-responsibilities-deacons.

19 For a brief defense of the traditional understanding of Acts 6 as the founding of the office of deacon, a position from which I gently demur, see John Hammett, Biblical Foundations for Baptist Churches: A Contemporary Ecclesiology (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2005), 192. Mark Dever in “The Doctrine of the Church” also effectively treats the Seven as deacons, although he acknowledges that the deacon only “explicitly” attained the status of an office later (799-800). Finally, while Anthony Thiselton does not discuss the relationship of the Seven appointed in Acts 6 to the office of deacon, he does present an interesting proposal for understanding the term diakonein to refer broadly to administrative responsibility exercised on behalf of another, based on the arguments of John N. Collins. This proposal seems to be complementary in some respects to the traditional emphasis on deacons as servants of the physical needs of the church. See Anthony Thiselton, The Hermeneutics of Doctrine (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 493-494.

20 See, for example, Matt. 18:15-20, 1 Cor. 5:1-13, 2 Thess. 3:14-15, and Titus 3:10-11.

21 Jonathan Leeman, The Church and the Surprising Offense of God’s Love: Reintroducing the Doctrines of Church Membership and Discipline (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 173. Chapter 4 of Leeman’s work contains an extended exegesis of Matthew 16:18-19 and other relevant texts in Matthew which buttresses this central claim. For Leeman’s most succinct, up-to-date discussion of these passages, see “Political Church: How Christ’s Keys of the Kingdom Constitute the Local Church as a Political Assembly,” (PhD Diss., the University of Wales, 2013), ch. 6.

22 Ibid., 194-195.

23 While Leeman’s language of an institutional charter perhaps goes a step further than previous Congregationalist authors, many historic Congregationalist authors have understood the “keys of the kingdom” in Matthew 16:18-19 in broadly the same way Leeman does. For a representative example, see John Cotton, The Keyes of the Kingdom of Heaven, and The Power Thereof, According to the Word of God (London: Thomas Goodwin and Philip Nye, 1644; repr. Boston: S.K. Whipple and Co., 1852).

24 Many commentators from a variety of ecclesiological traditions have recognized this basic point. See, for example, Leon Morris, The Gospel According to Matthew (Pillar New Testament Commentary; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1992), 468-9; and D.A. Carson, “Matthew,” in Expositor’s Bible Commentary, vol. 8 (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1984), 403.

25 “Irreconcilable diversity” is Bockmuehl’s phrase. See Bockmuehl, “Is There a New Testament Doctrine of the Church?” 35.

26 Ernst Käsemann, “Unity and Multiplicity in the New Testament Doctrine of the Church,” in New Testament Questions of Today, trans. W.J. Montague. (New Testament Library; London, SCM: 1969), 256-257, cited in Bockmuehl, 32.

27 Erickson, Christian Theology, 1094.

28 Ibid. For Erickson’s entire discussion of church government, see 1080-1097.

29 Peter Toon, “Episcopalianism,” in Who Runs the Church? ed. Steven B. Cowan (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004), 27-28.

30 On which see Craig L. Blomberg, From Pentecost to Patmos: An Introduction to Acts through Revelation (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2006), 21.

31 For a recent and ingenious argument in favor of the Pauline authorship of the Pastoral Epistles, see Terry L. Wilder, “Pseudonymity, the New Testament, and the Pastoral Epistles,” in Entrusted With the Gospel: Paul’s Theology in the Pastoral Epistles, ed. Andreas J. Köstenberger and Terry L. Wilder (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2010), 28-51.

32 Nor, for that matter, is the doctrine of the Trinity. One wonders why evangelicals who uphold the doctrine of the Trinity would decry similar systematic synthesis in another area of Christian doctrine.

33 Much more would need to be said in order to adequately safeguard against an application of some type of “trajectory hermeneutics” to the area of church polity. For now I’ll simply argue that development (diversity) within the apostolic era seems to lead to consistent polity (unity), rather than vice versa.

34 D.A. Carson, “Evangelicals, Ecumenism and the Church” in Evangelical Affirmations, ed. Kenneth S. Kantzer and Carl F. H. Henry (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1990) 364-365.

35 D.A. Carson, “Church, Authority in the,” in Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter Elwell (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 250.

36 I am indebted to Greg Gilbert for drawing my attention to the following references. See his blog post, “Looking to the Bible on the Multi-Site Issue,” at http://www.9marks.org/blog/looking-bible-multi-site-issue.

37 See, for example, Jerome Murphy O’Connor, “House Churches and the Eucharist,” in Christianity at Corinth: The Quest for the Pauline Church, ed. Edward Adams and David G. Horrell (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2004), 133-134.

38 1 Cor 11:17, 18, 20, 33, 34; 1 Cor 14:23, 26.

39 Contra Murphy O’Connor, who asserts, “It would appear, therefore, that a meeting of ‘the whole church’ (Rom 16:23; 1 Cor 14:23) was the exception rather than the rule; it would simply have been too awkward.” See Murphy O’Connor, “House Churches and the Eucharist,” 133.

40 Against the argument I have sketched here, it is commonly asserted that there was no place large enough to accommodate the entire number of believers in Corinth meeting together in one place. The first problem with this argument is that it is based on pure conjecture, since we have no hard data about the size of the Corinthian church. Second, this argument refuses to address fairly plain archaeological evidence which has established that homes in Corinth which would have likely been within the means of the “not many” who were of high status (1 Cor 1:26) could easily have accommodated upwards of several hundred people. See, for example, Carolyn Osiek and David L. Balch, Families in the New Testament World: Households and House Churches, ed. Don S. Browning and Ian S. Evison, The Family, Religion, and Culture (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1997). For an application of this research to the question of whether or not the New Testament provides precedent for multi-site churches, see Grant Gaines, “Were New Testament House Churches Multi-Site?” (Unpublished paper, accessed online at http://grantgaines.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/were-new-testament-house-churches-multi-site.pdf).

41 I am indebted Bruce Winter for pointing out the significance of this text for the present debate in personal correspondence. For arguments in favor of the Corinthian provenance of Romans see Schreiner, Romans, 4. Schreiner also sees Paul’s reference to Gaius as indicating that Gaius hosted the entire assembly. See ibid., 808.

42 Erickson, Christian Theology, 1095.

43 In fact, as I mentioned near the beginning of this essay, I’m not aware of a single author who sees a consistent pattern of polity within the New Testament yet argues that it is not prescriptive.

44 Erickson, Christian Theology, 1094.

45 William Williams, Apostolical Church Polity (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1874), repr. in Mark Dever, ed., Polity: Biblical Arguments on How to Conduct Church Life (Washingdon, DC: Nine Marks Ministries, 2001), 543-546.

46 See Leeman, The Church and the Surprising Offense of God’s Love, chapter 4.

47 This is one reason why, it seems to me, historic Congregationalists such as the men who wrote the Apologeticall Narration were right to demand some kind of explicit warrant, whether “directions, patterns, [or] examples” for any exercise of church authority. See Alan P.F. Sell, Saints: Visible, Orderly & Catholic: The Congregational Idea of the Church (Allison Park, PA: Pickwick Publishers, 1986), 31.

48 For a discussion of authority and authorization, see Leeman, The Church and the Surprising Offense of God’s Love, ch. 3; “Political Church,” ch. 2.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Bobby Jamieson is assistant editor for 9Marks, a member of Third Avenue Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky, and the author of Sound Doctrine: How a Church Grows in the Love and Holiness of God (Crossway, 2013). You can follow him on Twitter.

Contextualizing Ecclesiology

An Interview with Ed Roberts

9Marks: How long have you, an American, been living in an overseas context?

Ed Roberts: I spent one year in Latin America and 19 years or so in Asia, mostly Central Asia.

9M: Can you generically describe the kind of places you’ve been living in?

ER: In Latin America, I lived in a huge city and also in a small village at the end of the paved road, literally. A kind of syncretistic Catholicism seemed to be the main religion with a growing Protestant minority, even in the villages.

In Central Asia, I’ve lived in one huge city (untold millions), one large city (4 million) and a smaller city of ½ million inhabitants. Multiple languages were spoken in one city where Islam had gone underground for 2 to 3 generations and the religious scene was mostly folk Islamic with some Sufistic influence. People were technically literate in one language but basically not good readers in any language.

In another city, all speak one language. Almost all (95%) profess Islam but religious practice and adherence to Islamic dress and customs varies greatly from neighborhood to neighborhood.

Official and unofficial persecution of followers of Jesus and particularly leaders (including imprisonment) is the norm in one city, whereas in the two other cities, there are a few small churches meeting publicly, though without official legal status. The percentage of Christians in these Central Asian cities is less than 0.1%, or less than 1 per 1000 citizens.

As part of my work, I also interact regularly with workers from a wide variety of contexts in Central Asia where there are zero churches and only a handful of believers, if that.

9Marks: 9Marks has been thinking lately about the sufficiency of Scripture for church leaders in planting and growing their churches. So how important has this topic of contextualization been for you in your work?

ER: It’s been an essential part of my work. Every time we try to communicate the gospel or plant a church we have already been involved in the task of contextualization. And in cross-cultural contexts one has to contextualize well or people will misunderstand what you are saying.

Contextualization is a complex process, but here’s a simple definition:

(Cross-cultural) Contextualization is the attempt to learn and listen carefully to culture(s) and so communicate clearly the message of the gospel and who Jesus Christ is and what it means to be a fully devoted follower of Jesus in a context different from that of the Bible and/or that of the communicator.

Since we all contextualize, we might as well try to do it well! Or at least have the right goals in mind. Here are some suggestions for good cross-cultural contextualization:

1. Realize that our goal in contextualizing should always be to clarify the gospel and biblical doctrine. Our goal must not be to make others comfortable with Christianity or the Bible. It’s not to minimize persecution by minimizing the offense of the cross. And we do not want to confuse our culture with the gospel. We do not proclaim ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord (2 Cor. 4:1-6).

2. Realize that all cultures are fallen and in need of transformation. Yet because of God’s goodness and the image of God in all people, not every feature of a culture is evil and hostile to the gospel. Every culture will offer both barriers and bridges to the gospel. Learning and listening to a culture helps us identify which is which.

In Acts, we see how first-century Judaism contained bridges and barriers to the gospel. In Paul and John’s writings, we see how common concepts could be a bridge to communicate the gospel, while certain pagan terms were barriers and had to be torn down and rebuilt with Christian meaning. Yahweh adapted certain elements of ancient Near Eastern treaty culture. David, too, adapted current poetic devices and filled them with godly content.

3. Realize that as the gospel message takes root in a particular culture it simultaneously confronts fallen aspects of that culture and the gospel messengers themselves. This is true for local churches also. Scripture is always confronting and challenging us in our local church communities, calling us to greater faithfulness to the Word.

4. Realize that we have to be patient in cross-cultural pioneer church planting. We will make mistakes. The first churches in a pioneer setting will need time and encouragement to become healthy. We have to teach and train. And we have to trust the local believers and the Holy Spirit at work in them. It is Christ’s church, not ours.

5. Realize that we are all prone to confuse our application of biblical doctrine with the biblical teaching itself. In other words, the goal of cross-cultural contextualization involves the attempt to communicate biblical truth clearly while allowing believers of a different culture to apply or communicate the truth in ways different and even odd to us.

For example, we might think that a church that doesn’t keep a membership list cannot be serious about membership. Well, perhaps. But perhaps there are only ten people in that local church and everyone knows one another very well, and knows who is a baptized insider welcome at the Table, and who is not. Do they have a list written out on paper? Who cares! They practice biblical membership!

9Marks: Where would you draw the line between wise and unwise contextualization?

Wise contextualizers embrace biblical goals for contextualization. They are humble and astute interpreters of culture, but they always start with Scripture and return to Scripture. Wise contextualizers are engaged in a kind of hermeneutical dance. They read, hear, and obey the Scriptures. They are increasingly aware of and adjusting (discarding?) their own cultural lenses so that they see the biblical truths more clearly. And they listen to the local context so that they may communicate and apply those truths more and more clearly. Wise contextualizers are not afraid to say, “I was wrong about that. This is what Scripture says—or doesn’t say. And I didn’t see that before.”

Unwise contextualizers operate independently. They disdain or ignore any cautionary questions from people outside their immediate context: “You don’t know these people like I do!” They don’t listen to church history. Unwise contextualizers start with local context and culture rather than Scripture and its context. They listen well to the local culture and context, but do not hear the Scriptures as well.

Unwise contextualizers never seem to get around to confronting or challenging a culture with God’s Word. Instead, they take all their cues from the culture. They only answer questions that the culture is already asking. But the Bible answers some questions that cultures may not naturally ask.

It can be difficult to draw that line between unwise and wise contextualization from afar because we often don’t understand what people in a foreign culture mean when they do or say certain things. Here’s a provocative example:

You are traveling in Central Asia and are introduced to a bearded man wearing flowing beige clothing and sandals. He speaks a little English. You have been told that he is a Christian, a former Muslim believer. His English is broken but you do catch him saying, “I love going to the mosque!”

Aha! One of those Insider Movement syncretists! But what the brother means is that he visits the mosque regularly to meet his friends and share the gospel with them. He never visits the mosque during the time of daily prayers and never performs the ritual prayers. He is part of a small church that meets in homes on Sunday nights. He tells others that Jesus is Lord, and that Islamic religion is not compatible with following Jesus as Lord. And for now at least, he is still welcome to chat and visit with his friends in the mosque.

An outsider who didn’t take time to ask and probe might call that unwise contextualization. Or if we don’t understand that mosques function like social gathering places, information centers, and even hostels in Muslim areas, we may think that every visit to a mosque is a religious observance. It is not.

9Marks: How does the topic of contextualization relate to the doctrine of Scripture’s sufficiency?

ER: The Scriptures are sufficient to teach us everything we need to know about cross-cultural discipleship, but they do not address exhaustively every question that may arise in cross-cultural communication. Contextualization deals with culturally specific and often very local details that the Scriptures were not designed to address. The Scriptures do provide principles and doctrines that inform and control all of our life circumstances.

The Scriptures provide all the universal constants for the process of contextualization. But the particular application of those constants requires prayerful learning and dialogue in community. And we don’t always get it right!

A proper understanding of the sufficiency of Scripture also helps cultural outsiders guard against imposing culturally specific details that are not inherent in the biblical truth or doctrine. So if Scripture is sufficient, then we won’t insist that others have or not have membership lists, have or not have people walk the aisle, or insist that they stand and teach behind pulpits for not less than 45 minutes. We will insist that Jesus the Lord requires our full and exclusive religious allegiance, and that being a follower of Jesus precludes participating in any rival religious community.

9Marks: Now, I want you to be honest here. Does a “9Marks model” work in your context? What contextualizing adjustments need to be made? And if adjustments do need to be made, does that mean 9Marks is not so biblical after all?

ER: First, if contextualizing adjustments have to be made in applying a model cross-culturally, that does not mean the model is not biblical. The “nine marks” do not exhaust what the Bible says about healthy churches, but they are helpful core essentials.

I am very thankful for 9Marks and its emphases! As I understand it, 9Marks was itself initially designed to challenge unhealthy aspects of church culture in the West, particularly in the USA. So starting with Scripture, 9Marks has been a contextualized approach to applying scriptural practices in order to encourage more healthy church life. Healthy churches are also what we aim to plant here in Central Asia, but the context is sometimes very different.

9Marks’ model needs less adjustment in cultures that are literate and already have churches going and pastors pastoring and deacons deaconing and staffs staffing and so on. It works better in a place where there is very little persecution and considerable freedom of religious expression and assembly. I say this because the model arose within a very literate culture that gives space to the establishment and marketing of institutions and organizations.

Institutions and institutional churches are a good thing in many ways, but in Central Asia, we often don’t have that freedom or opportunity, at least not yet. That doesn’t mean these nine marks don’t work in Central Asia. It does mean that the how of implementing the nine marks in Central Asia may require some adjustment.

For example, take a dirt-poor bi-vocational pastor with limited or no English and only one book in his house. How he can learn to preach expositionally or learn biblical theology? The answer is going to be different in some ways than it is for an urban full-time international pastor who speaks English and has internet access. Of course some advice is identical: read and re-read the text in context; pray the text into your own life first; and so on. And both individuals may end up doing very good jobs of teaching expositionally. But it may look different.

How do you teach “expositional sermon preparation and delivery” in a setting that doesn’t yet have a complete Bible in translation, or has only the Bible and no other resources, or whose overseers have only a couple of hours a week to prepare for teaching, and who have precious few, if any, models of good teaching to observe? They might be easily discouraged by our answers to the how question if we answer only from our own resource-rich experience.

We all tend to replicate the methods that were useful to us in our training. We all have a tendency to view our application of the core as the core itself. But if your goal is to communicate a 9Marks model of “expositional sermon preparation and delivery” in a cross-cultural setting, you need to be aware of these temptations and make adjustments.

Another example: 9Marks teaches that churches should aspire to plural eldership with biblically qualified elders, and elders should be “able to teach.” But what that will look like will very from culture to culture, just as teaching methods and approaches will vary.

Or consider how churches should cultivate a culture of discipleship. 9Marks says this this is absolutely essential and biblical for healthy churches. I think that’s right, but how to do that and how to create that will vary across cultures, even though some aspects do not change. In Washington DC, discipleship might occur through reading a book with someone one. But that will not work so well in cultures where one-on-one conversations are extremely rare—and people don’t often read.

We all make mistakes in contextualization. But an important first step is recognizing the need for doing contextualization well, which means growing in our cultural self-awareness.

Wise contextualization works hard at communicating what’s the biblical core and what’s up for grabs. The 9Marks answers to the how questions all communicate well with minimal adjustment in some contexts that are culturally similar, even in Central Asia. Urban, cosmopolitan areas where English is the lingua franca, or where international churches can afford full-time pastors and staff, reflect much less cultural distance to the USA than some places in Central Asia.

In cross-cultural settings, it is very difficult to know how to communicate clearly if we have not first listened and learned from those with whom we are trying to communicate. So if 9Marks wants to really make a lasting difference in cross-cultural settings where the church doesn’t exist, or where the culture is very different, it will need to be very intentional in how it approaches cross-cultural discipleship.

If the 9Marks model is in theory adjustable for these kind of culturally specific situations, and I think it is, then bravo! My hope is this: that diverse but biblically acceptable examples of how to apply the 9Marks model be repeatedly communicated in cross-cultural settings.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Ed Roberts has been planting churches in Central Asia for nearly twenty years.

I Was a Pragmatist

By Jeramie Rinne

Hi, I’m Jeramie. And I’m a recovering pragmatic pastor.

I graduated from seminary seventeen years ago and became the senior pastor of South Shore Baptist Church in Hingham, Massachusetts about two years later. Seminary gave me a solid theological foundation, sharp exegetical tools, and a firm grasp of the Bible’s storyline. That education fuels my ministry to this day.

But despite my schooling, I launched into pastoral work lacking something critical: a biblical approach to local church ministry. I didn’t have what Tim Keller calls a theological vision: that philosophy of ministry that connects one’s doctrinal beliefs to one’s practical day-to-day ministry.1

Well, that’s not exactly true. I actually did have a theological vision, albeit unconsciously. It was the same ministry philosophy that serves as the default setting for so many pastors. I was a pragmatist.

PRAGMATISM IN PRACTICE

Let me define what I mean by “pragmatist.” It’s the approach that says a church can use any effective means to win people to Jesus, make disciples, grow the church, or build the kingdom. A church may adopt any structure, program, or strategy that “works” to reach people for Christ as long as the initiative isn’t obviously sinful.

So that means no men’s ministry kegger and no Ponzi scheme for funding the youth mission trip. But besides dubious programming like that, a church’s ministry is only limited by its creativity. As long as you agree on a short list of core doctrines, or a handful of biblical purposes, the actual shape of evangelical ministry is up to you.

Pragmatism has proverbs like, “The church’s methods change but its message stays the same” and “There’s no one right way to do church.” Like most proverbs, those sayings contain a kernel of truth. But for the pragmatist, these are the rallying cries for an entrepreneurial, results-oriented, whatever-it-takes way of “doing church.”

Pragmatism served as the operating system for the first seven years of my ministry. I played around with lots of different ministry apps on that platform: drama, a third worship service, coffee houses, and of course lots and lots of programs. If someone had a ministry idea and energy to lead it, I tended to back it because, hey, it might just work! I’m not suggesting all of those ministry initiatives were bad, or that churches should squash new ideas, or that we shouldn’t be passionate about reaching people. But the programmatic hodgepodge that formed in the church was indicative of a pragmatic theological vision.

During that first seven years of ministry, the church grew steadily in numbers. People came to faith and got involved. Whatever we were doing seemed to succeed. And that’s what matters, right? But even as the church grew, something else was growing in my heart: a nagging discontent and disillusionment with how we did church.

FULL CHURCH, EMPTY PASTOR

Despite our church’s apparent success, the pragmatism left me empty and disoriented. This model for church ministry felt increasingly hollow. In retrospect, there seemed to be several reasons for my response, stemming from pragmatism’s inherent weaknesses:

Pragmatism Is Exhausting

First, pragmatism is exhausting. It takes a lot of work to be a pragmatist. You have to keep abreast of the latest ministry trends, read the newest how-to books, and attend the conferences of the most successful churches.

You must also keep your finger on the pulse of people inside and outside the church to discern what will reach them. And let’s not even talk about how draining it is to shift church paradigms every couple years. The pragmatic pastor must be part organizational change guru, part cultural analyst and futurist, part salesman, and part start-up specialist. It all left me very soul-weary.

Pragmatism Is Man-Centered

Further, pragmatism is man-centered. I found this to be true in at least two ways. First, focusing on results inevitably means focusing on people’s in-the-moment status. Are they coming, staying, converting, giving, participating, or serving? If so, then keep doing what you’re doing because something is working.

Of course good pastoral leadership involves humbly listening to the congregation. But pragmatism propelled me beyond pastoral sensitivity into the fear of man. Conversely, it didn’t lead me into theological thinking or the fear of God.

Second, pragmatic ministry tends to be man-centered in the way it celebrates successful practitioners. Those pastors who have cracked the code to reaching baby boomers or millennials or post-moderns or urbanites draw throngs of pastors searching for help. Even at a local level, when regular pastors get together they inevitably want to know: one, who in the group has the thriving ministries, and two, what those pastors are doing that works so well.

Pragmatism Is Subjective

Finally, pragmatism is subjective. Pragmatism rests on a disturbingly relativistic, arbitrary foundation. Why should the church follow my ideas instead of someone else’s? Just because I am the senior pastor? Why implement this best-selling church model instead of that best-selling model? And how do we define “success” or know when something “works?” Who sets those metrics and on what basis? I sometimes had the sinking feeling that I was making ministry up as I went along.

RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE

At the end of that first seven years, my church generously granted me a three-month sabbatical. I told the elders I planned to spend the time hunting for the “right model” for our growing church. My plan was to visit over a dozen churches all over the country to find the best ministry template. It was the ultimate pragmatist pilgrimage.

But instead of finding the right church to imitate, I found something else on my sabbatical: the Bible.

To my surprise I discovered that the Bible actually had a lot to say about how to do church, far more than pragmatists want to admit. The Bible gives us more than just core doctrines or a few overarching ministry principles. It lays out a robust theological vision for local church ministry, centered on the gospel, with very practical implications.

And so began a slow process of learning not to ask, “Will it work?” and instead asking questions like, “Does Scripture speak to this?” and “How should the gospel shape this decision?” For the last seven years I’ve been reprogramming myself to think theologically about local church ministry.

What has a biblical and theological vision looked like in practice for us? It looks like the primacy of expository preaching so that God’s Word sets our agenda. It means our elders transitioning from a board of directors model to a shepherding mentality. It has looked like two worship services adopting a single blended style to reflect the unity we see stressed in the Bible. It has meant (for us, at least) morphing our building project from a gym to a sanctuary.

As I write this, our elders and pastoral staff are wrestling through whether to continue conducting two Sunday morning services or combine them into one. Rather than simply being pragmatic and listing pros and cons for one service vs. multiple services, we’re also looking at what the Bible says about the very nature of a congregation. Can we be a body that doesn’t assemble, a church family that doesn’t gather as one, or a people in communion who don’t take the Lord’s Supper together? What does it mean, biblically, to be a local church?

MY COPERNICAN REVOLUTION

This rediscovery of a biblical vision has profoundly changed my ministry. I no longer feel adrift in the sea of pragmatism, but can chart a course using Scripture as my sextant. People’s reactions don’t throw me for a loop because I see how ministry decisions flow from a theological basis, enabling me to trust God even when people aren’t happy. But most satisfying of all, God and his Word have returned to the center of my ministry and our church’s life. It is so worshipful to open the Bible and ask, “What does God have to say about his church?”

To my fellow struggling pastors trying to figure out ministry: Take heart because there is wisdom to be had. And it begins with the fear of the Lord and his Word.

1 Tim Keller, Center Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 17-19.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jeramie Rinne is the senior pastor of South Shore Baptist Church in Hingam, Massachusetts.

The Sufficiency of Scripture

By Carl Trueman

The doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture lies at the heart of what it means to be a Protestant. Protestantism and Roman Catholicism share much in common in terms of basic theology, such as a commitment to the doctrines of the Trinity and the Incarnation. When it comes to matters of authority, however, there are major divergences. One of these is on the matter of Scripture: is Scripture sufficient as an authority for the church or not?

Scriptural sufficiency is, of course, a doctrine that stands in positive connection to a number of other theological convictions, such as inerrancy, the extent of the canon, and the perspicuity or clarity of Scripture. All of these help to shape our understanding of sufficiency but are beyond the scope of this brief article. Thus, I will focus on the doctrine as generally understood by those who accept the Protestant confessional consensus on these matters, as reflected in the Second London Confession, the Three Forms of Unity, and the Westminster Standards.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN THAT SCRIPTURE IS SUFFICIENT?

We do of course need to parse what we mean when we say that Scripture is sufficient. If my car breaks down or I am trying to work out who committed the crime in a particularly complex whodunit, I will not find the answer in the Bible. Nor will I find discussion of the human genome, the rules of cricket, or the wing markings of North American butterflies. In fact, the scope of Scripture’s sufficiency is neatly summarized in Question 3 of the Westminster Shorter Catechism:

Q. 3. What do the Scriptures principally teach?
A. The Scriptures principally teach, what man is to believe concerning God, and what duty God requires of man.

In other words, the Scriptures are sufficient for a specific task: they reveal who God is, who man is in relation to him, and how that relationship is to be articulated in terms of worship.

Even with this definition, however, we need to be precise concerning the nature of this sufficiency. In some areas, the Scriptures are sufficient for teaching principles but not for providing specific details. For example, while they clearly teach that the church should gather for worship on the Lord’s Day, they do not specify precise times and locations. Neither my local congregation nor the time of our services are mentioned anywhere in the New Testament. Scriptural sufficiency is not jeopardized by this lack; Scripture was never intended to speak with precision to such local details.

The last observation is perhaps obvious. A more subtle point about scriptural sufficiency can be deduced from Paul’s pastoral epistles. When Paul writes these, he is laying out his blueprint for the post-apostolic church. It is thus significant that he does not simply tell Timothy and Titus to make sure there are copies of the Bible available to the church. If Scripture in and of itself were sufficient to maintaining the truth of the faith, surely that is all he would need to have done. Instead, he not only emphasizes the importance of Scripture but also says that there is a need for officers (elders and deacons) and for adherence to a form of sound words (a tradition of creedal teaching). So to say that Scripture is sufficient for the church is not to say that it is the only thing necessary. Officers and creeds/confessions/statements of faith (agreed forms of sound words) also seem to be a basic part of Paul’s vision for the post-apostolic church.

Given these factors, there is a sense in which we might say that Protestants believe in the insufficiency of Scripture: we acknowledge that Scripture is insufficient for many of the details of everyday life, such as motorcycle maintenance and cooking curries. It is even insufficient for the day-to-day running and good health of the church: we need elders, deacons and forms of sound words. What it is sufficient for, however, is for regulating the doctrinal content of the Christian faith and the life of the church at a principial level. That is Paul’s point in 2 Timothy 3:16. In other words, to speak of scriptural sufficiency is one way of speaking about the unique authority of Scripture in the life of the church and the believer as the authoritative and sufficient source for the principles of faith and practice.

WHAT IS SCRIPTURE SUFFICIENT FOR?

We can elaborate this. First, Scripture is sufficient as the noetic ground of knowledge of God. This means that all theological affirmations are to be consistent with the teaching of Scripture. The statement “God is Trinity” is found nowhere in the Bible; but its conceptual content is there; that is why it should be affirmed by all Christians. By contrast, “Mary was conceived without original sin” is not a concept found anywhere in Scripture. Roman Catholics who affirm the notion thereby reveal their view that Scripture is not sufficient as the noetic basis for theology, but needs to be supplemented by the teaching magisterium of the church.

Second, Scripture is sufficient for Christian practice. At the level of behavior, Scripture offers principles which guide believers in their day to day lives. This can be a complicated area: the advent of Christ demands that the Old Testament law codes be read in the light of his person and work, and this issue is beyond the immediate scope of this short piece. But the principle of sufficiency is clear: given the redemptive-historical dynamic, Scripture provides fully adequate and sufficient general principles which can be applied in specific ethical situations. For example, the Bible may not reference stem cell research, but it contains principles that should shape our attitudes to such.

Third, at the level of the church as an institution, Scripture is again sufficient for the principles of both organization and public worship. In terms of organization, I have already noted the fact that Paul sees both office-bearers and creeds/confessions as vital to the ongoing health of the church. As to office-bearers, Scripture also describes the kind of men who are to be appointed. As to creeds, my first point above—that Scripture is sufficient as the norming norm of the content of doctrinal statement—is clearly relevant.

Fourth, in terms of public worship, Scripture is sufficient for establishing its elements: singing of praise, prayer, the reading and preaching of God’s Word, the giving of tithes and offerings for the work of the church, baptism, and the Lord’s Supper. As with creeds, Scripture is also sufficient to regulate the agenda and content of sermons, worship songs, prayers, what the money is spent on, who is baptized, and who receives the Lord’s Supper.

In short, one can tell a lot about how a particular church understands scriptural sufficiency by looking at her form of government, the content and emphases of corporate worship, and the way in which the elders pastor the congregation.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Carl Trueman is Paul Wolley Professor of Church History at Westminster Theological Seminary, and is the pastor of Cornerstone Presbyterian Church in Ambler, Pennsylvania.

When Is Pragmatism Prudent?

By Jamie Dunlop

As Bible-believing Christians, we insist that everything we do be based on the Bible. And yet I’ll bet that of the decisions you made today, 99 percent of them were not direct applications of Scripture, but were pragmatic in nature. What color should you paint the church? Should you have lunch with Joe or with Tim? What words will best serve your wife when you walk through the door?

Does that make us hypocrites? No: one of the greatest gifts each of us has received from our creator—and for which we will one day give account—is our minds. “Pragmatism” can refer to an anti-supernatural philosophy, but it can also be just another word for “wise judgment,” which is commended in Scripture in the strongest terms. And with poor judgment, it is quite possible to root what we do in the Scriptures and still fail to serve God well.

If we decide that to be biblical means we must never be pragmatic, we are essentially rejecting the role of wisdom in the Christian life. And that’s just not how God has ordained things to be. He has given in his Word everything we need for faith and practice. But working these things out will often require a good deal of sanctified judgment. Or, to use that other word, a good deal of biblical pragmatism.

So how can we steward our pragmatism well? I think in two ways: (1) when we are pragmatic, we should ensure our pragmatism is biblical; and (2) we rightly discern when the Bible expects us to use wise judgment, and when we are commanded to simply trust and obey.

HOW DO WE MAKE OUR PRAGMATISM BIBLICAL?

First, how do we make our pragmatism biblical?

Pragmatism is not a problem until it begins to replace instructions that God has already given us. As a friend of mine puts it, we often approach decisions like we approach an empty whiteboard, entirely dependent on our good judgment to chart a path forward. But if we know our Bibles we know that there is already writing on that whiteboard, especially when it comes to leading a local church. God has given us guidance both about what we should do and how we should do it.

So how do we make sure that we don’t ignore what God has already written? Here are three ideas for you:

1. Examine Your Goals in Light of the Scriptures

First, examine your goals in light of the Scriptures. Wrongly pragmatic thinking often begins when we take a good and maybe even a biblical goal and use it to displace another biblical goal.

Let’s say you are a youth pastor who feels a biblical burden for your youth to hear and believe the gospel, but it is not happening through the families in your church. So you build your youth ministry to provide “full service discipleship”—from evangelism to biblical instruction to fellowship to mentoring.

This is a good goal, even a biblical one. The problem is that the Bible has another goal that you have ignored: Ephesians 6 implies that families, not youth ministries, are to be the primary disciplers of children. So in essence, your youth ministry is an elaborate system to help families evade their God-given responsibilities.

If you had thought more carefully about the biblical goal of a youth ministry—to assist families in discipling their children—you would have designed it very differently. And then all your good pragmatic thinking would have been aimed at a better goal.

One way we can help our pragmatism to be biblical is to think carefully about whether we are basing our goals on Scripture’s goals.

2. Explore How Specific Scripture Is—Whether Explicitly or Implicitly—about How you Do Things as a Church

Second, explore how specific Scripture is—whether explicitly or implicitly—about how you do things as a church.

If Scripture was utterly explicit that replacing the sermon with interpretive dance is evil (“Thou shalt not…”) then I hope we wouldn’t have much debate on this point. But the problem is that while some Christians see this as an obvious implication of biblical teaching, others aren’t sure that the Bible says much about what we do in our weekly gatherings.

So how do we determine how specifically Scripture speaks to our ministry methods? How do we know when God has already written something on the whiteboard? Obviously, we should become careful students of Scripture. But in addition to that, we can make use of disagreements with other Christians to pressure-test our thinking regarding how specific Scripture really is.

For example, not being a fundamentalist, I profited significantly by listening to a 9Marks interview on “Fundamentalism and Separation” with Mark Minnick, pastor and professor at Bob Jones University. Having had little exposure to principled fundamentalism, I was surprised at how carefully Dr. Minnick argued from Ephesians 5:7 (“do not be partners with them”) for what he termed the “doctrine of separation”: a biblical prohibition against partnering in any way with those who themselves partner with those who compromise the gospel. I’ll admit I wasn’t finally convinced by his argument. But hearing a brother defend the principle from Scripture has sharpened my thinking significantly as I lead my own church to partner with others.

So search out Christian friends or authors who see more binding principles in Scripture than you do, who see more black and white than shades of gray, who defend decisions from Scripture that you think are purely pragmatic. They will help pressure-test your own understanding of how precise Scripture is in its prescriptions—which will make your pragmatism more biblical.

3. Work from What Is Clear in Scripture to What Is Less Clear

Third, work from what is clear in Scripture to what is less clear. Sometimes we look at an impending decision, fail to see a corresponding command in Scripture, and decide the Bible has nothing to say about it. This is foolish. The Bible is not silent on your decision simply because it doesn’t speak to it directly.

Take a young man considering how to conduct his dating relationship. “Dating” doesn’t have an entry in his concordance—nor does “courtship.” So other than making sure he and his girlfriend don’t have sex outside of marriage, is there anything else in the Bible they need to pay attention to? How many conversations I have had like this as a pastor! What the Bible is clear about is marriage—which is the hoped-for destination for every dating relationship. And to be sure, Scripture’s clear guidance on within marriage (gender roles, imagery of Christ, communication, etc.) have many implications for dating.

When you’re struggling with a decision that is more specific than Scripture’s clear teaching, it is important to keep in mind the situation closest to yours where Scripture is clear.

DISCERN THE LINE BETWEEN COMMAND AND JUDGMENT

But being a good steward of pragmatism goes beyond simply making our pragmatism more biblical. We must also avoid making Scripture more absolute than it intends to be. In other words, we must discover the line between a direct biblical command and sanctified judgment.

For example, Hebrews 10:25 tells us to not give up the habit of meeting together. Does that mean that we excommunicate a brother in the military because his job takes him away from Christian fellowship for several months? Wouldn’t that be a clear implication of this passage of Scripture? To say “no” to this admittedly absurd question clearly depends on some level of pragmatic reasoning—on sanctified judgment.

Yet pragmatism, unbridled, can also lead too far.

So how do we discern where direct Bible application ends and judgment begins? Here are three suggestions for you.

1. Pay Attention to Context—Including Genre

First, pay attention to context—including genre. How many young married couples have argued themselves silly late into the night in an attempt to obey Paul’s command in Ephesians 4:26, “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry?” Sometimes you need to simply get to a good stopping point, get some sleep, and then reconvene your discussion when rested minds can remove the heat from the argument.

Paul offers this statement in Ephesians 4 in the form of a proverb: something that’s generally true but that requires judgment to apply. That is clearly different from a categorical command, like “You shall not commit adultery” (Ex. 20:14).

2. Carefully Determine when a Scriptural Example Is Normative.

Second, carefully determine when a scriptural example is normative. Very often, the way Scripture speaks to a situation—especially regarding how we conduct church life—is not through direct imperatives but through example.

In these cases, determining what is unique to a first century situation and what is normative for us today can be challenging. For example, I would argue that the biblical model is for churches to have multiple elders—because that’s the example I see in the New Testament. And yet I don’t insist on baking one massive loaf of bread for our church of 1,000 people to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, even though 1 Corinthians 10:17 seems to assume the idea of a single loaf in the Corinthian church.

How can we make sense of all of this? Because Jesus promised that his Holy Spirit would guide the apostles “into all truth” (John 16:13), we must believe that we can learn from what they did in addition to what they taught. Here are some questions to help you improve your application of biblical examples.

First, how consistent is an example across Scripture? For example, plural leadership in the local church shows up all through the New Testament, which gives us confidence that it is intended to apply to our churches as well as those first congregations.

Second, does the example you’re looking at affect the essence of the thing in question? For example, some Christians baptize immediately, as soon as a person converts. But I would argue that the speed of baptism is not essential to what baptism is. A few days or weeks of conversation about a convert’s understanding of the gospel doesn’t change what baptism is. And, in fact, that elapsed time can protect us from wrongly baptizing someone who hasn’t actually come to faith—which would make baptism into something it isn’t. On the other hand, it’s entirely appropriate to argue from scriptural example regarding whether we should baptize infants—because whether or not the person being baptized currently professes faith does change the essence of what baptism is.

Third, do you see any clear counter-examples in Scripture? Take the “one loaf” example of 1 Corinthians 10:17 that I referenced earlier. One might argue that “one loaf” is essential to what the Lord’s Supper is, because it symbolizes our unity in Christ. And yet we see evidence that the post-Pentecost church in Jerusalem shared the Lord’s Supper together (Acts 2:42), which would have been impossible to do with a single loaf of bread and more than 3,000 Christians. So it’s safe to assume that Paul’s “one loaf” language is not normative across all churches.

THE WAR, NOT THE BATTLE

A final component of biblical pragmatism is patience. Focus on winning the war, not the battle. Even when Scripture is clear on what goal we should pursue, pragmatic patience in getting there can be wise.

For example, perhaps you’ve been convinced that the right practice of church discipline is an essential part of what it means to be a church—and your church doesn’t practice church discipline. As a result, you’re confused by an article on the 9Marks website entitled “‘Don’t Do It!’ Why You Shouldn’t Practice Church Discipline.”

Is 9Marks advocating that we disobey Scripture? The point of the article is that the goal of church discipline is the purity of the local church—and if we destroy the church in the process, we’re not accomplishing anything of value. It’s like killing the patient to cure him of cancer. Far better to teach patiently about church discipline until the church is ready for this step—so you end up with a church that is pure and alive.

To be sure, one could abusively apply this principle so as to completely jettison Scripture in favor of mere pragmatism. And there are times when a principle is so clear and important that it’s worth splitting a church over. But generally, we should keep the long view in mind.

Here are a few guidelines for when pragmatic patience may be wiser than a principled “hill to die on”:

• When a principle stems more from biblical example than clear biblical imperative, one should generally lean more toward pragmatic patience.

• When a principle depends more on an implication of the gospel and not the heart of the gospel, one should generally lean more toward pragmatic patience.

• When one has a clear plan to move toward greater biblical faithfulness, one can have more confidence that exercising patience is being wise and not lazy.

Some of us have far too strong a confidence in our own judgment, ignoring Scripture while we pursue what is “wise in our own eyes.” Others flee their responsibility for exercising judgment in favor of cut and dried “rules” because they fear that relying on judgment may lead toward unbiblical pragmatism. As is so often the case, we must understand which error we are most prone to, and we should work with other brothers and sisters to chart a course that is both faithful and wise.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jamie Dunlop is an associate pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC.

The Twin Temptations of Pragmatism and Authoritarianism

By Jonathan Leeman

It is easy for church leaders to look only to their left or only to their right in seeking to avoid the errors of others. Something I have learned from watching Tim Keller is the importance of looking in both directions. Hence, the man always seems to have a “third way” on offer.

When the topic turns to philosophy of ministry or church practice, it has been the tendency of 9Marks writers like myself to look leftward toward the squishy tendencies of mainstream evangelicalism. This is a response to the evangelicalism of my youth that was constantly anxious to avoid slipping too far rightward toward some type of authoritarian fundamentalism.

Many things in life are binary, and there is no third way. But I do believe there are errors both to the right and to the left of a biblical philosophy of ministry. On the left are the errors of pragmatism, and on the right are the errors of authoritarianism. What’s most striking to me is what they share in common.

FRATERNAL TWINS

At first glance, they look pretty different. Pragmatism is flexible. It says, “Let’s try this, or this, or this, or this, or this!” Authoritarianism is rigid. It says, “Do what I told you, now!” Pragmatism respects autonomy and the role of assent, even if things get a little messy. Authoritarianism respects order and efficiency and completion. Surely, pragmatism and authoritarianism are not identical twins.

But they are fraternal twins. Look beyond the surface and you will find a surprising number of commonalities:

Both pragmatism and authoritarianism are fixated on results.

Both define success by outward or visible change, and therefore they subject their methods to any number of metrics for measuring visible fruit.

Both depend upon human ingenuity to get the job done. They rely upon brains, brawn, or beauty to accomplish their ends. One strong-arms. The other strong-charms.

In the area of Christian ministry, unlike authoritarianism, pragmatism does not assume there is a “right way” to get things done but that God has left these things to us. So it sheepishly concludes, “My way is as good as any, I suppose.” But this, ironically, is not totally unrelated to the authoritarian’s “My way or the highway!” Both can overlook “God’s way.”

Listen to either the pragmatist’s sermon (“Seven Steps to a Healthy Marriage”) or the authoritarian’s sermon (“Repent or Else”). What might you hear?

• Both will command the flesh and make no appeal to the spiritual new man in the gospel.

• Both start with the imperatives of Scripture, not the indicatives of what Christ has accomplished.

• Both loom heavily over the will, doing all they can to make the will choose rightly, apart from a consideration of where the will has its roots planted—in the heart’s desires. Shame and moralism are the favorite tools of both methodologies.

• Both require outward conformity rather than repentance of heart. In so doing, they create only Pharisees.

• Both overstep the boundaries of where the Bible has given us permission to go, whether by expanding the scope of corporate worship and Christian mission by laying down commands where none exist. Both routes bind the conscience where the gospel does not.

• Both are impatient. Since they do not recognize that decisions have their ultimate foundation in the heart’s desires, they feel successful whenever they produce a right decision, whether or not that decision was forced or manipulated.

• Both rely on their own strength, rather than leaning on the Spirit by faith (see John 3:6; 6:63).

Now, there is nothing intrinsically wrong with relying upon human wisdom and strength for some ends, particularly when there is a lack of divine revelation. How do you promote your coffee shop? How do you win football games? How do you keep your teeth healthy?

But when it comes to Christian ministry, the chief error of both pragmatism and authoritarianism is their reliance upon natural methods to accomplish supernatural ends. To borrow from Paul David Tripp and Timothy Lane, they staple apples onto trees instead of watering and feeding the trees.

A THIRD WAY: GOD’S GOSPEL WORD AND SPIRIT

How do you feed and water the trees? That takes us to the third way. Christian ministry must rely fully on God’s gospel Word and God’s Spirit.

Gospel ministry has the following attributes:

• It is by faith. It believes that God’s Spirit always has the power to change, and that he will if he so determines.

• It relies on God’s gospel Word. True change happens when the eyes of a person’s heart open to the truth of God’s gospel Word, accepting and embracing it. They see its truth for themselves. It’s not beauty or brawn that entices them, it’s God and his Word.

• It recognizes the role of authority: Jesus has authority; Jesus’ gospel word has authority; Jesus’ church and its leaders have authority. But each of these authorities is different, possessing different mandates, prerogatives, jurisdictions, and sanctions. And gospel ministry is very sensitive to these differences, never confusing one authority for another.

• It helps people to consider what they truly desire before telling them what they must do.

• It appeals to Christians on the basis of their status in the gospel, not on the strength of their flesh. A Christian pastor or counselor should not say things like, “I expect more from you” or “You’re better than that.” Instead, he will say, “Don’t you realize that you’ve died and been raised with Christ? You’re a new creation. Now, what should that mean?” A Christian authority will give commands (e.g., 2 Thess. 3:6, 10, 12), but these commands will be issued by virtue of membership in the gospel. It appeals to the new realities of the Spirit. The imperatives should always follow the indicatives of what Christ has given.

• It is exceedingly patient and tender, knowing that only God can give growth (1 Cor. 3:5–9). An immature Christian may need to walk a hundred steps before he arrives at maturity, but a wise pastor seldom asks for more than one step or two. Our example in this is Jesus. “Take my yoke and learn from me,” he says (Matt. 11:29). To take his yoke is to become a disciple. It’s to learn. But he is gentle and lowly in heart, and his yoke is easy and light (11:29–30).

• It is always carefully measured or calibrated to where a person is spiritually. The godly elder and church seldom, if ever, make spiritual prescriptions without asking questions and doing the exploratory work of a good doctor.

• It is also willing to draw lines and make demands that it knows cannot be met. A good doctor not only asks careful questions, he identifies cancer when he sees it. Likewise, a church or an elder should not use its authority to obscure God’s gospel realities but to illumine them. The power of the keys, for instance, is to be used exactly to this end.

In short, Christian ministry works by the power of the Spirit and the Word, not by the power of the flesh.

Like a pragmatic approach, it makes appeals to people. It asks for their consent. It recognizes that a true act of faith cannot be coerced.

But like an authoritarian approach, it recognizes that Jesus is king and possesses authority. True actions of faith do not proceed from autonomous but manipulated actors. Rather, people must lovingly submit to his royal word.

Christian ministry loves and confronts. It honors and challenges. More than anything, perhaps, it speaks…and waits…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jonathan Leeman, an elder at Capitol Hill Baptist Church and the editorial director at 9Marks, is the author of Reverberation: How God’s Word Brings Light, Freedom, and Action to His People. Portions of this article have been taken from The Church and the Surprising Offense of God’s Love. You can follow Jonathan on Twitter.

Book Review: Reclaiming the Sufficiency of Scripture

Reviewed by Benjamin Wright

Rob Rienow, Reclaiming the Sufficiency of Scripture. Randall House, 2012. 96 pages. $10.99

Rob Rienow addresses two serious, common problems in his helpfully brief book, Reclaiming the Sufficiency of Scripture. The first is that too few people and churches believe the doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture. The second is that too many people and churches say they believe it but fail to practice it.

Rienow’s survey of church history and contemporary practice adequately defines and illustrates both problems. His reminders of the deceptiveness of the human heart demonstrate the folly underlying our assumption that we can improve on biblical truth and methods. His reflections on relevant biblical passages construct a positive alternative that I would love to be able to recommend to pastors and lay leaders.

Unfortunately, I cannot. Though the foundation of Rienow’s work is commendable, its weaknesses are significant enough that the book will either be unpersuasive or create new problems. Rienow’s proposal will create those new problems because it simply doesn’t take into account enough of the biblical data.

Rienow argues that the sufficiency of Scripture means we find in the Bible everything important about everything important (27). “We believe the Bible alone for every matter of faith and life” (23), and “God has spoken in his Word to every important matter of faith and life” (73).

To the contrary, the Bible actually says important things about important things, without saying everything that’s important about those things. In innumerable cases, we still have to figure out how to apply biblical principles to contemporary circumstances that Scripture does not explicitly address. Second Timothy 3:16-17 does not mean that Scripture explicates everything important about everything important. It cannot mean that, because other texts affirm that there are some pretty important things we need to comprehend that we will not find in the biblical text.

For instance, Peter tells us to live with our wives in an understanding way (1 Pet. 3:7). That’s a broad principle. Does it tell me how to live with my wife in an understanding way? No. In short, while living with my wife in an understanding way is surely one of life’s important obligations, what that looks like for me will surely look a bit different from what it looks like for you. As any married man will know, your wife and mine aren’t the same person. Deny that at your own peril. Our doctrine of Scripture’s sufficiency needs to be able to account for such distinctions.

Or, to use another example, Scripture doesn’t speak explicitly to embryo adoption, gender reassignment surgery, and polka or anarcho-punk style worship. But surely it defines principles that are sufficient to shape and even direct our response. The biblical principles supply all the inspired revelation we need, even though they do not spell out all the data we need to reach wise conclusions.

At the same time, Scripture includes direct commands that may not directly apply to us, like those related to head coverings and hair length in corporate worship. The vast majority of today’s evangelicals understand that those passages do not apply to our situation in a one-to-one fashion, based on our understanding of today’s cultural symbols. Hebrews 5:14 explains that our powers of discernment need to be trained to distinguish between good and evil. That seems to imply a maturity of wisdom and judgment under the dominion of Scripture, yet a judgment that also takes other sources of knowledge into account.

So while Rienow is right to be concerned when religious leaders fabricate new laws and declare them to be a universal, objective standard of righteousness (33-34), we still have to be able to look at biblical commands and principles and make some judgment as to how they apply in diverse contexts.

It seems that Reinow has expanded the doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture to say a bit more than it has meant in church history since the Reformation, and more than Scripture claims for itself. His argument implies that the things Scripture doesn’t specifically address do not matter, which has dangerous implications. A better understanding of the sufficiency of Scripture would need to embrace the uniqueness of Scripture as authoritative divine revelation without insisting that it contains every piece of information we need for spiritual maturity. As John Piper has explained, “The sufficiency of Scripture does not mean that the Scripture is all we need to live obediently…The sufficiency of Scripture means that we don’t need any more special revelation.”

Rienow’s book could be quite useful for a broad range of potential readers if these matters were resolved. I would offer two suggestions. First, consider the implications of the doctrine for more issues than family-integrated ministry, which is where he spends a disproportionate amount of time. Second, supplement the biblical foundation with a few more fine distinctions, and perhaps a chapter on the ways in which Scripture is actually insufficient. With those two adjustments in place, the book might be a valuable resource. As it stands, its argument is just a little too off-target to justify a recommendation.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Benjamin Wright is an associate pastor of High Pointe Baptist Church in Austin, Texas.

Regulative Like Jazz

By Jonathan Leeman

Instinctually, I have never been crazy about the regulative principle. Somehow it feels overly prescriptive.

The principle teaches that everything a church includes in Sunday’s order of service must have scriptural warrant. That warrant, says Ligon Duncan, “can come in the form of explicit directives, implicit requirements, the general principles of Scripture, positive commands, examples, and things derived from good and necessary consequence” (Give Praise to God, 23). But the point is, churches shouldn’t do it if the Bible doesn’t say to do it.

A looser approach, and one that appeals to many evangelicals, is found in the normative principle. The normative principle certainly affirms that churches must do what Scripture enjoins—like preaching, praying, and singing. But it also makes space in the order of service for practices not forbidden in Scripture—whether that’s illustrating the sermon with a skit, finger painting your response to a Bible reading, or swinging an incense censer.

Now, I’m not looking to swing a censer or paint a picture, but the non-conformist in me wants to lean normative. I admit. But the Bible-conformist in me believes we should keep to the regulative principle. In fact, the fact that it is more restrictive for the church means it offers more freedom to the Christian. May I try to persuade you, too?

THE KEY IS WARRANT

The key is the word warrant. The regulative principle does not only require churches to heed biblical commands in their gatherings, it requires them to only heed biblical commands. Which is to say, churches must only do what they have been authorized or licensed to do. Any and all corporate activity must have a warrant.

Perhaps an illustration will help. My wife and I recently enjoyed seeing Gregory Porter at Washington, DC’s historic Howard Theater. Maybe that inspires me to open a jazz club in my own Washington suburb. So I apply for the appropriate business license, which is then granted, and eventually we open for business.

Guests come. They love the music. But something’s missing. They keep asking for food menus. I think back to my experience at the Howard Theater, and, sure enough, they served us dinner. What a combo, it was: dinner and jazz! So I install a kitchen into my club, hire a chef and wait staff, and begin serving dinner. Perfect!

At this point, however, a man from the county licensing office shows up and asks if I have a food services establishment permit. Well, no, but, you understand, sir, night after night, people are asking for food. So it makes perfect sense to offer them a menu.

Well, whether or not it “makes sense,” says the county agent, serving food exposes the club to another circle of regulations and responsibilities that serve to protect the citizens of the county. And the business license in hand simply says nothing about serving food. An additional license is necessary, or fines will be levied.

WARRANT IN THE KEYS

What our generation of somewhat individualistic and anti-institutional Christians misses is that the assembled church operates with a different set of authorizations, warrants, or licenses than the individual Christian does. The gathered local church is authorized in Matthew 16, 18, and 28 by Christ’s keys of the kingdom to make an international declaration about a what and a who: what is the gospel, and who is a gospel citizen? Just because I am a U.S. citizen does not mean I have the authority to show up at the international airport terminal without a U. S. passport; and just because I am a Christian does not mean I have the authority to baptize my friend in a backyard pool or take the Lord’s Supper with wife and children at home. The assembled local church possesses this authority. (For a defense of this paragraph, see chapter 4 here, chapter 3 here, here, and here).

What that means is, the individual Christian needs the local church. He or she needs the church for the sake of growing in grace, yes, people know that. But also, critically, the individual believer needs the church to be initially recognized as a Christian in baptism and to continue in this recognition through the Lord’s Supper.

That is to say, we need churches because they provide the formal accountability structure that ensures that the people who profess the gospel also live by the gospel—that the what and the who of the gospel and a gospel life match!

A church provides recognition and accountability for the Christian life.

Now here’s where the regulative principle becomes a big deal: if the believer needs a church to be formally recognized as a Christian, then the church had better darn well make sure it does not force anything onto a Christian that the Bible and the gospel do not require.

Christians are surely free to worship God in any number of ways, including with incense and finger paint. But as soon as a church places something in its order of service, it is effectively requiring all of its members to worship God in that way. It’s like the difference between choosing to abstain from alcohol yourself and requiring every member of your church to abstain from alcohol.

Christians must bind themselves to a church. That is why churches must not bind the Christian or the Christian’s conscience where Scripture does not bind it. And everything we write into a church’s order of service effectively mandates how a Christian worships God in the assembly.

The normative principle sounds like it leaves churches freer, and the non-conformist in me likes that. But, ironically, the regulative principle leaves the Christian freer, which the Bible-conformist in me definitely likes.

Admittedly, it’s a bit harder to see the problem when we have so many churches to choose from. If I don’t like what one church does, I just go to another. But put yourself in the shoes of someone living in a town with only one church, as is the situation among our Christian brothers and sisters in various Muslim nations, or as it was among the many of the churches of the New Testament. You would be required to approach God in public worship through some method you find unbiblical and noxious.

Whether you live in a town with one church or hundreds, the regulative principle claims that churches do not have the warrant or authority to place unbiblical elements into the church’s order of service. It seeks to free Christians from such constraints.

WHAT DOES THE LICENSING DOCUMENT SAY?

What a church should do instead is pretty easy. It should look down at its license of establishment and ask, what exactly has King Jesus authorized us to do? We can wade into the waters of what “makes sense,” or we can carefully read the licensing document itself, a.k.a. the New Testament.

What does the document license them to do? Basically, it authorizes churches to do the things that they have been doing for two thousand years when assembled: binding and loosing through the Lord’s Supper and baptism; teaching and preaching; Bible reading and singing. While many activities characterize the church scattered, these things seem to characterize the church gathered (e.g. Acts 2:46; 1 Cor. 5:4; 11:18-22, 33-34; 14:1-39).

Now, maybe it “makes sense” to illustrate the sermon with a skit, to finger paint your response to a Bible reading, or to swing an incense censer. But does the licensing agreement say anything about these activities? Anywhere? Maybe they’re in the fine print. No?

Insofar as the Bible says nothing, the regulative principle would then forbid them based on these two assumptions.

Assumption one: the Holy Spirit had reasons to authorize in Scripture what he authorized, and to stay silent where he stayed silent. Presumably, he had reasons that he wanted the gospel spoken in words rather than painted in pictures in gatherings of the church. What are those reasons? I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the power of images, or the second commandment, or the nature of faith. I genuinely don’t know. What I do know is that the New Testament—our licensing agreement—clearly authorizes churches to preach, but says nothing about painting pictures.

Assumption two is that, in general, human beings are authorized to do only what God authorizes them to do. We don’t have the authority to pluck an apple off a tree and eat it until the Lord licenses us. Gratefully, apple eating is authorized in Genesis 1:29. So with anything a church does when it’s assembled—God must authorize its activities. When we go beyond Scripture, we risk wrongly binding the conscience of church members.

LITTLE STRUCTURE, LOT OF IMPROV

Adherents of both the regulative and normative principle can agree that human beings can worship God in all kinds of activities (see 1 Cor. 10:31). We can worship him through drama, finger painting, and maybe even incense, though I’m sure I’m not the man to defend this last one.

The difference between the two principles comes down to whether or not the local church possesses its own institutional charter, and whether or not the members are bound to act within the explicit constraints, commissions, and provisos of that charter when they are gathered together. The weakness of the normative principle, at base, is its lack of institutional specification.1 The strength of the regulative principle is its institutional specificity.

This specificity is not only biblical, it provides the little bit of structure that allows for a great deal improvisation, as in jazz. Even the most aleatoric moments of an improvised jazz riff have to move within a tightly scripted structure, at least if an ensemble wants to stay together.

So we’re commissioned to preach, pray, and sing the gospel, eh? Ah, what diverse things we can preach, pray, and sing about this gospel of harmonious glory! How many variations can you spin out on that melody?

1 I believe John Frame is correct, in one sense, to argue that the regulative principle is the same for the Christian life and for corporate worship (e. g. The Doctrine of the Christian Life, 464-81). It’s the same in that God must authorize our activities in both domains. But then I would want to challenge what I believe is Frame’s lack of institutional specification about the existence, nature, and authority of the local church by virtue of the keys of the kingdom.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jonathan Leeman, an elder at the Capitol Hill Baptist Church and the editorial director of 9Marks, is the author of several books on the local church. You can follow him on Twitter.

Must All Regulative Principle Churches Look the Same?

By Trip Lee

After a short drive through the African countryside, our truck pulled up to a chapel for a church service in Choma, Zambia. I was excited to worship with brothers and sisters from across the world, and I was anxious to see what it would be like. How different would the service be from what I’m used to? Would I be able to worship along with them?

As the service began, men on stage started to play bongos and the whole room danced where they stood. Joyful shouts of praise broke out around me as the rhythm progressed. Then I heard the most beautiful congregational singing I’ve ever experienced to this day. The voices rang out in near perfect unison, and the sweet words directed my eyes to the cross. After singing, someone led us in prayer, and we heard the Word of God preached. It was a worshipful experience.

In many ways, it was different than what I was used to, but it was also strikingly similar. And I suspect it’s similar to your own church services as well. The fact that churches on different sides of the globe are so similar yet so different is what we should expect when the gospel is proclaimed in diverse places. There is a glorious, diverse sameness. And we should be satisfied with nothing less.

OUR GATHERINGS SHOULD BE VERY SIMILAR

The regulative principle is the conviction that everything we do in corporate worship must have warrant in Scripture, either by direct command or implication. As the examples above show us, when we anchor ourselves in God’s revealed truth, there will be a certain sameness to our church gatherings—even when the church is on the other side of the world.

Every Christian church, regardless of location or affiliation, has been given the same New Testament. There are some areas of corporate worship for which Scripture hasn’t given us any instruction, but there are many other important areas where Scripture has spoken clearly, and we should take note.

First, the substance or content of our church gatherings should be the same. The good news that Christ died, was buried, and was raised is the message we must proclaim. It should be our confidence when we pray, it should be celebrated when we sing, and it should be clear when we preach and administer sacraments. While there should be great diversity in our worship styles, there should not be diversity in our message. 

Second, the elements, or the different components of our church gatherings, should be the same. Those elements are preaching, singing, praying, Scripture reading, tithes and offerings, and the sacraments. Our God is not just concerned that we worship him; he’s also concerned with how we worship him. 

Of course we should offer our entire lives as worship unto the Lord. But when we gather together as we’ve been commanded to, we should anchor ourselves in the elements God has given us in his Word. This isn’t a burden that restricts us, but a relief that frees us. We are freed to worship according to God’s means instead of human whim. This sameness unites us with churches all across the globe. But how similar should we all be?

OUR GATHERINGS SHOULD BE VERY DIFFERENT

One criticism of the regulative principle is that it doesn’t allow for much diversity among our churches. Some argue that the regulative principle only produces one kind of church, and if we all subscribe to it our churches will look exactly the same. I strongly disagree.

When I worshiped with that church in Zambia, I was struck by the all the similarities and differences I observed. But I could also talk about the time I was in Grand Cayman, where I sang along with a diverse congregation as they belted out familiar songs with a Caribbean swagger. Then their pastor delivered a heart penetrating exposition that exalted Christ as Lord of all. 

Or how about my former church in North Philadelphia, where every aspect of the service was gospel-saturated, and the atmosphere was celebratory and expressive. Hands waved, a six-piece band of talented musicians played, and the members verbally responded to the Word as it was preached.

Both of those atmospheres are very different from my current church, where the music is much simpler and quieter, the prayers are longer, and there’s limited verbal interaction during service. Instead, the congregation sits in a hushed silence as the Word of almighty God is read aloud and proclaimed. 

The worship gatherings of the churches I’ve mentioned are very similar, yet very different. They faithfully obey God’s clear commands in Scripture to sing the word, pray the word, and preach the word. But as you can tell from my descriptions, they are far from identical—and I don’t think they should be. This diverse sameness is glorious! We should be praising God for it and praying for more of it.

While our churches should not be innovative in the content or the components of our services, the way we carry those things out is, to some degree, up to us. Scripture gives us the “substance” and the “elements,” but within broad biblical guidelines, the forms are flexible. 

So we can sing old, wordy hymns or repetitive contemporary songs. You can pray for an hour or for five minutes. You can preach calmly and lecture-like, or you can preach loudly, with a melodic climax at the end. We can take communion every week, or every other month. Church members can shout “Hallelujah!” during the sermon or just give a quiet “mmm.” And of course, there are inconsequential circumstances like seating and bulletins. You can sit in chairs or pews, and you can read song lyrics from a brochure or on a big screen. 

You get the point. We shouldn’t think the regulative principle calls our churches to be uniform in every way. We can all be faithful to God’s Word without looking exactly the same.

PRECIOUS DIVERSITY

My heart would be broken if I visited a church in China and the worship gathering looked exactly like my church’s in Washington, D.C. One of the glories of the gospel is that it penetrates all nations, tribes, tongues, and cultures. 

Sometimes we can be tempted to force our chosen forms on others. No church exists outside of a context, so we shouldn’t assume our way is the way. This cultural snobbery assumes that our cultural norms please God more than others. We should do what works for our people in our context. Yes, idolizing contextualization leads to compromise, but being oblivious to people’s needs is a compromise of its own. Our God has created diverse peoples, and any attempt to erase that diversity opposes his wise design. 

This diverse sameness that we get to experience now is more precious than we sometimes acknowledge. It reminds us that God’s saving grace is indiscriminate. It’s a shadow of that eternal worship gathering that we long for. And it’s proof that God is making good on his promise to gather a people to himself from every tribe, nation, and tongue. Amen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Trip Lee, in addition to his work as a hip hop artist, serves as a pastoral assistant at Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC and is the author of The Good Life (Moody, 2012).

What about Movie Clips? Applying the Regulative Principle

By Aaron Menikoff

I had been a pastor for just a few months when a faithful church member sought me out to discuss the use of media in the services. He had led previous pastors to incorporate video and sound clips, and he wanted to be of help to me. He started off with a question kind of like this:

“So, what do you think about movie clips in the services?”

“Well, I really hadn’t planned on using media in the services.”

“Really? I’ve been involved in worship for quite some time, and it’s a pretty effective way to communicate.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. But I’m afraid it might distract people from the heart of the service, the singing, preaching, and praying of the Word.”

“I wouldn’t think of it as a distraction, more of an addition, it makes the whole service better.”

“You might be right, but I really want our focus to be on the power of God’s Word to engage and excite us, so I’m going to stay away from movie clips.”

That’s about how the conversation ended. We were two grown men who both love the Lord but with different viewpoints on what would most honor God and be helpful to this local church. If you were in my shoes, how would you have answered his question?

Over the years, I’ve been asked to weigh in on many such issues related to our Sunday morning service.

Should we have Independence Day bunting? I said no, after figuring out what bunting is.

Christmas decorations? I said yes.

Dramatic Scripture readings? No.

A children’s choir? Yes, a couple times a year.

A collection box in the foyer? No.

Handbells? Yes.

Movie clips? See above.

As you can probably tell from these examples, I came to an established church with its own customs and traditions. If you are planting a church, I suppose you are more likely to be asked your opinion on incense, an art gallery in the foyer, and cutting edge or even secular music.

I’m less concerned that you reach the same conclusion I have on any of these examples. What I do want you to realize is that Scripture is not silent about corporate worship.

FIVE GUIDELINES FOR MAKING GODLY DECISIONS

The regulative principle helps me answer these kinds of questions. The regulative principle says that Scripture regulates what is permissible to do in public worship. And those who hold the regulative principle will approach each question carefully, asking not merely “What will God allow?” but also “What does God prefer?”

The following five guidelines, rooted in the regulative principle, have helped me to address which practices appropriately honor God and help his people in our weekly gatherings.

1. Corporate Worship Is Word-Centered.

First, corporate worship is Word-centered. After Paul told Timothy of Scripture’s power to change lives (2 Tim. 3:16-17) he offered this simple exhortation: “preach the word” (4:2). My most important pastoral duty is to lay Scripture before my church, confidently knowing that the Spirit can apply it to people’s lives and produce spiritual maturity.

A Christian gathering should not be merely “biblical” in some general, abstract sense. It should be so saturated with Scripture that it is obvious to everyone that we believe God works powerfully through his Word, as we preach the Word, sing the Word, and pray the Word. I don’t want to endorse anything that will distract us from Scripture.

2. Corporate Worship Is Gospel-Centered.

Second, corporate worship is gospel-centered. Paul boasted in the fact that he preached Christ: “Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ” (Col. 1:28). To proclaim Christ means to unveil the gospel before the church. A dull saw can’t cut down a tree, and a gospel-less service can’t produce spiritual maturity. Corporate worship should lead every participant to revel in the accomplishment of Christ for sinners.

3. Corporate Worship Is Congregational.

Third, corporate worship is congregational. Once again, Paul gives clear instructions: “And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with all your heart” (Eph. 5:18-19). “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God” (Col. 3:16). I’m struck by the congregational nature of these commands. We, the church, are commanded to sing songs to “one another.” It reminds me of how the first chair violinist in an orchestra plays not only for the audience, but for the other violinists, and how the others listen to the first chair. So members of the congregation minister to one another throughout a church service, even as they pray and sing to God

4. Corporate Worship Is for the Church.

Fourth, corporate worship is for the church. Let’s face it, there’s a serious difference of opinion today about the primary purpose of a church’s corporate gathering, and that’s going to affect how you structure your service. Many churches stress that they exist for non-Christians. They tailor their music (secular) and their messages (short) to appeal to the lost.

Other churches, like mine, recognize that they will often have unbelieving visitors, but they focus on equipping the saints to reach the lost. And I believe we see the latter approach in Scripture. New Testament churches focused on edifying the body (1 Cor. 14:12, 14, 26), building unity in the body (1 Cor. 11:17-22), and encouraging members of the body (Heb. 10:24-25).

As someone leading our services, I try to make non-Christians feel welcome by explaining to them what’s happening throughout our time together, by addressing potential objections to Christianity in the sermon, and by winsomely and clearly sharing the gospel.

Nonetheless, when I think about what we should do when we gather as a church, I’m not fundamentally concerned with attracting unbelievers. The church gathered is to honor God by edifying the body of Christ. The church scattered is to honor God by evangelizing the lost.

5. Corporate Worship Is Led.

Fifth, corporate worship is led. Elders should shepherd under God’s authority without domineering over the flock (1 Pet. 5:2-3). Congregations should follow them, striving to make their jobs easier (Heb. 13:17).

What a gift godly leadership is (Eph. 4:8ff.)!

I’m thankful to lead with a body of elders who see our corporate worship service as part of the teaching ministry of the church. We know that the decisions we make may not always be popular. Some want a choir. Others want contemporary music. A decision must be made.

It is important, therefore, to find godly men who can think through what is most honoring to the Lord and most edifying to the congregation, and then to trust them to lead accordingly.

FIVE TEST CASES

It’s time to crawl into the batting cage to see a few of the pitches that might come our way.

1. Is it appropriate to have visual arts, like skits, in a morning worship service?

In the best-case scenario, a skit is a dramatization of a scriptural passage. In the worst-case scenario, it is a shameless attempt to grab the congregation’s attention. I would treat the latter like nuclear waste—don’t get near it! As for the former, I’m open but cautious.

The danger is that dramatizing a passage pulls the rug out from under the plain power of the spoken Word. Ravi Zacharias made a statement I’ll never forget: “In the beginning was the Word, not the video.” Congregations should rely upon the spoken Word because God has always used his Word to build his people and grow his church—this is obvious from Genesis to Revelation.

2. What about baby dedications?

Once a year, our church recognizes new parents during the Sunday morning service. As a church, we want to encourage parenthood and pray for the salvation of these little ones. Nonetheless, because corporate worship is congregational, we also ask the members of the church to publicly promise to hold these parents accountable to raise their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

3. How much should we recognize cultural holidays like the Fourth of July?

I approach this question with the conviction that our gatherings are for the church, and the church consists of believers with one thing in common: salvation by faith in Christ alone. Therefore, I don’t plan services around cultural themes. Though I’m sure to thank God for religious liberty on the Fourth, and though I always pray for moms on Mother’s Day, I don’t lead us to have a Fourth of July or Mother’s Day service.

4. Should a congregation recite creeds together?

There are many good reasons to incorporate orthodox statements of faith and church covenants into our public services. They remind us that God has been at work for centuries, making his Word clear. And in a world where truth is considered relative, it’s helpful for congregations to go against the grain and publicly unite around biblical teaching.

If creeds are incorporated into a corporate worship service, it has do be done in such a way that the authority of the Bible is emphasized. A service leader might say something like, “This morning, we want to confess our faith in the words of the Nicene Creed, joining with Christians throughout the centuries who have understood the Bible to teach that Jesus is, and always has been, God.”

5. Should we have multiple services divided by musical preference?

For example, should we have an early morning “traditional” service, mid-morning “contemporary” service, and late-morning “modern” service? Leaving the ecclesiological question of multiple services aside, I do have concerns about the prudence of dividing the congregation based upon musical preference. A gospel-centered service should bring believers together. If we are willing to divide over the style of music, what does that say about the power of the gospel to unite us? My fear is that it says the gospel is not enough.

FOR OUR GOOD, WE’RE NOT FREE

Not everyone is going to like how I swing at these pitches, and that’s okay. The nitty-gritty details of church life and corporate worship will undoubtedly vary from context to context and church to church. Those who hold to the regulative principle will undoubtedly disagree over some of the details.

Yet we need to keep in mind that we are not free to do whatever we want, whatever works, or whatever the people ask us to do. For our good, God has given us parameters. Corporate worship is to be Word-centered, gospel-centered, congregational, for the church, and led.

In a special way, cooperating in missions can serve to exalt and clarify the gospel. It helps to show that your church is about more than just your own programs and projects. It shows that you care about the spread of the gospel, even if another church is doing most of the spreading and reaping. And maybe it will help you to find “fellow laborers for the truth” that will bless you and your congregation for years to come.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Aaron Menikoff is the senior pastor of Mount Vernon Baptist Church in Sandy Springs, Georgia.

Does the Regulative Principle Demand Exclusive Psalmody?

By Robert Letham

Does the regulative principle demand exclusive psalmody?

I’d argue that the Psalms should be the backbone of the sung element of the church’s worship.

The Psalms are the word of God to man and the word of man in response. Fulfilled in Christ, Christ himself bases his message of grace upon them (Lk. 24:44-9). The Psalms are wide-ranging in content and immensely powerful. I almost always choose at least one Psalm for every service I plan.

But what about the argument that the sung element of church worship should consist exclusively of psalms?

This argument is based on a certain application of the regulative principle of Scripture, in which the principle is taken to mean that only what is explicitly commanded in Scripture is permitted. Since there is no explicit command to sing uninspired songs, the thinking goes, church worship must not include them. How does this position address the distinction between psalms and two other forms of music in Paul’s command to “address one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” (Eph. 5:18)? These three words are understood either as a reference to three parts of the Psalter, or as a hendiadys, where two or more expressions are used to mean one thing.

However, where in Scripture do we find an explicit requirement that churches must only do what is explicitly commanded? If Scripture requires explicit support for worship practices, we must assume it propounds the principle explicitly. Where in Scripture is the church explicitly commanded to sing from the book of Psalms and only the Psalms? What about hymnic passages in both the Old Testament and the New? Why are doxologies and other expressions of praise to be found in Scripture apart from the book of Psalms?

I’d argue that this Psalms-only principle simply isn’t found in Scripture, and that the argument in its favour also rests on a misguided interpretation of the regulative principle. Let’s examine that second point first.

CLARIFYING THE REGULATIVE PRINCIPLE

In order to clarify what the regulative principle does and doesn’t mean, let’s consider the Westminster Assembly’s classical statement of it, as well as the historical context of that statement.

The Westminster Assembly’s View of the Regulative Principle

The regulative principle of worship is found in WCF 21:1. The relevant portion reads:

But the acceptable way of worshipping the true God is instituted by Himself, and so limited by His own revealed will, that He may not be worshipped according to the imaginations and devices of men, or the suggestions of Satan, under any visible representation, or any other way not prescribed in the holy Scripture.

This must be assessed in terms of the Assembly’s doctrine of Scripture. In 1:6, the Confession states that the whole counsel of God is either set down explicitly in Scripture or by good and necessary consequence can be deduced from Scripture. The regulative principle, as expressed by the Assembly, does not reduce the Bible to a command manual whereby worship is to be shaped exclusively by explicit commands.

Historical Context of the Regulative Principle

The historical background in England significantly impacted the Assembly and its grasp of the regulative principle. Draconian regulations governed worship in the Church of England. Parliamentary legislation specified that all ministers were bound to use the services as written in The Book of Common Prayer. If a minister was convicted of willful disobedience by a court of law, he would forfeit all spiritual benefices and be imprisoned for six months. On a second offence, one year’s imprisonment was the penalty. For a third offence, he would suffer life imprisonment. If any person wrote or spoke against the Book, on a third offence he was to forfeit all goods and suffer life imprisonment.

Viewed in this context, WCF 21:1 is more liberating than restricting. Bound in its worship to the direction of the Word of God alone, the church is freed from the dictates of man, whether these are contrary to the Word or simply additional to it. The yoke of imposition is lifted!

Practice of the Reformed Churches to 1643

While the Confession refers to the singing of Psalms in 21:5, is this prescriptive of what is required or descriptive of what was currently practised? If the former, how are we to understand what the Assembly meant by “Psalms”?

Nick Needham has shown that the Assembly’s understanding of “psalms” was wider than the Psalms of David. Other songs were commonly accepted in Reformed church worship, although the Psalms were the main diet. He finds support from Richard Baxter, Zwingli and Bullinger, Calvin, and the French, German, and Dutch Reformed churches. The English Protestants in Geneva were not opposed to singing other Scriptural passages in worship, while the standard English Psalter by Sternhold and Hopkins contained a considerably greater number of non-Davidic songs and was definitive until 1696. While in Scotland, exclusive psalm singing was the rule, before the Assembly the Scots used the Gloria patri.

The upshot of all this is that the classical statement of the regulative principle in the Westminster Confession does not restrict corporate singing to the Psalms. Nor was exclusive psalmody the practice of Reformed churches across Europe at that time.

BIBLICAL ARGUMENTS AGAINST EXCLUSIVE PSALMNODY

So that’s some historical perspective. Here now are two more direct biblical and theological arguments against exclusive psalmody.

The Scope of Revelation

First, the Psalms do not explicitly reflect the full range of trinitarian revelation: neither the incarnation, life, ministry, death and resurrection, ascension, and heavenly session of Christ, nor the gift of the Spirit to the church. It is strange that a principle requiring explicit biblical support for worship practices should require those practices to refer to the central truths of biblical revelation only implicitly. For this reason, if no other, the Psalms cannot be the sole diet of the church. If they were, that would truncate its worship and producing an imbalance in its theology.

What Exclusive Psalmody Forbids and Requires

Further, if you’ll allow me a reductio ad absurdum, consider what exclusive psalmody forbids and requires. Exclusive psalmody forbids the church to sing “Jesus, thou joy of loving hearts,” “How sweet the name of Jesus sounds,” and “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty.” However, it is explicitly commanded to sing “O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed, blessed shall he be who repays you with what you have done to us! Blessed shall he be who takes your little ones and dashes them against the rock!” and Psalm 109:6-20 with its outpouring of curses and vituperation.

STILL, BETTER ALL PSALMS THAN ALL CHORUSES

So, in sum, I would argue that churches are not required to sing Psalms exclusively. However, if it’s a choice between exclusive psalmody and contemporary worship choruses, exclusive psalmody is a far better option.

Recent worship trends have given evangelical churches unbalanced content, appalling music, and often erroneous sentiments. The linear nature of Judaeo-Christian psalmody and hymnody has been replaced by cyclical repetition. In comparison, despite its untenable claims, I would far rather have exclusive psalmody.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Robert Letham is Senior Lecturer in Systematic and Historical Theology at Wales Evangelical School of Theology (W.E.S.T.). He is the author of several books, including The Westminster Assembly: Reading its Theology in Historical Context.

Book Review: The Great Evangelical Recession

Reviewed by Matt McCullough

John Dickerson, The Great Evangelical Recession: 6 Factors That Will Crash the American Church…and How to Prepare. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2013. 256 pages. $14.99.

It’s tough to imagine a society more fixated on sermons than colonial New England. And few sermons were more likely to be published and purchased than the type historians came to call the “jeremiad.”

Perry Miller first coined the term because of how often these glum sermons used texts from prophecies of doom like those in Jeremiah. Jeremiads were typically inspired by some natural calamity, impending war, or perceived decline in purity and devotion of an earlier generation. They evoked the terms of a special covenant and warned of disaster unless the people would repent.

In some ways, John Dickerson’s recent book fits comfortably into this venerable American genre, as one might assume given its title: The Great Evangelical Recession: 6 Factors That Will Crash the American Church…and How to Prepare. Dickerson, a journalist-turned-pastor of a thriving Arizona congregation, believes evangelicalism in America is teetering on the edge of collapse unless believers wake up and change course. And he attempts to provide a “bold” and “fresh” program for reclaiming vitality (18).

These are dramatic claims, claims I’m not convinced are fully justified. But the questions are worth asking: Is American evangelicalism declining? And what, if anything, can we do about it?

TRENDS OF DECLINE

The book’s argument divides evenly in two parts, one summarizing reasons for concern about the evangelical future and the other proposing steps to ward off disaster. In part one, Dickerson groups information collected by researchers like George Barna and Christian Smith into what he calls six “trends of decline.” As you might imagine, the portrait he draws is a bleak one.

First, studies suggest that evangelicals account for closer to 10 percent of the American population than the 40 percent who claim to be “born again.” I’m not sure it’s true that “we often hear that about 40 percent of Americans are evangelical Christians” (28), and the author doesn’t cite anyone specifically who holds an inflated view of the evangelical population. Nevertheless the 10 percent number seems to be an emerging consensus.

The next two chapters demonstrate a growing hatred for evangelicals in American culture, especially surrounding the issue of homosexuality, and the simultaneous divisions among evangelical insiders over matters like American politics.

Then chapters 4 to 6 present the quantitative meat of part one. Evangelical ministries have relied heavily on cost-intensive personnel and programs, but studies show a steep decline in income as the oldest givers—who give four times as much of their income as 25-44 year olds—continue rapidly dying.

Meanwhile, according to chapter 5, researchers have found that as high as 70 percent of millennials raised in church stop attending altogether by their early 20s. And according to chapter 6, given the death of evangelicalism’s largest generation and the departure of it’s youngest, growth among evangelicals is lagging farther and farther behind that of the American population.

Admittedly, I’m no sociologist, but I will say I was at times uneasy with Dickerson’s use of statistical evidence through this section. There is certainly nothing wrong with a journalistic presentation of information collected from other studies. But occasionally the author combines information from various studies to create statistics or projections of his own (e.g., 90-92).

And, more broadly, though the author offers a clear definition of what he means by evangelical, he never clearly shows that the researchers he cites share his definition. Because evangelical is a contested term, it isn’t clear that everyone is considering the same subjects.

That said, I found Dickerson’s information convincing overall: evangelical ministries are losing money, people, and the favor of the American public.

ADJUSTED PRIORITIES

The book’s second part, which Dickerson identifies as most important, is strong. It is marked by love for the church, confidence in God’s Word, and solid pastoral instincts. Each chapter suggests adjusted ministry priorities to match each area of decline.

For example, these chapters call us to do good to those outsiders who hate us, and to rally insiders around the authority of the Bible and the content of the gospel. Dickerson suggests ministry models less dependent on paid staff and costly programs than on a growing network of disciple-making lay leaders. He calls pastors to emphasize individual shepherding as a way to stop the drift away from churches. And he proposes evangelistic methods less focused on events and headline evangelists than on “normal” Christians confidently sharing their faith.

I wouldn’t call these strategies “bold” and “fresh” in the way the author claims, but “bold” and “fresh” are overrated. But these simple methods reflect biblical priorities and come supported by centuries of fruitful precedent. They are tried and true, and that should be reason enough to get excited about them.

MELODRAMATIC AND OVERSTATED

As I’ve said, I’m not fully convinced by Dickerson’s account of American evangelicalism. But my hesitation has little to do with the specific numbers he surveys or strategies he proposes. Rather, I’d like to critically engage Dickerson’s work on two fronts.

First, the book is consistently melodramatic in a way that I believe obscures what’s at stake for us given the statistics in part one. I’m not disputing the specific numbers Dickerson presents, and I certainly wish we were seeing a higher number of conversions, a better reception of our message in the wider culture, and more money to fund ambitious outreach. But still I’m not sure what it would mean to “crash the American church.” And I don’t see why it’s necessary or helpful to speak of “saving God’s work in the United States” (124).

With occasional caveats, this tone pervades the book. At least on a subtext level, like the Puritan jeremiad, it frames what’s at stake as if God has made a unique covenant with American evangelicals and our ability to enjoy the promises of this unique covenant hinge on our behavior at this decisive moment. Dickerson claims that “God has eternal purposes that hinge on your strategic placement here in the United States ‘for such a time as this.’” (126). He argues the church’s “spiritual decay or restoration depends, in your sphere, on you and your leadership,” and, if we’re faithful to the model presented here, “we can reverse each of the 21st-century declines documented in this book” (218, 220).

I’m all for renewed faithfulness in gospel ministry, and I’m all for the ministry priorities sketched out in the second half of this book. But God simply has not promised to reward our faithfulness with numerical growth consistent with the American population, with predominantly believing children, with a steady flow of cash, or with a friendly host culture.

Put differently, we have not been promised that our faithfulness will yield anything different from what faithful Christians experience in China, Afghanistan, or North Africa. Look at Hebrews 11. Sometimes faithfulness sees the dead brought back to life; other times it gets you sawn in two. God will take care of God’s eternal purposes; we’re called to be faithful and leave the results to him. My guess, based on some passages in the book, is that Dickerson would agree with this sentiment. Yet the book’s tone muddies the water.

My second concern goes more to the book’s portrait of decline. Though a decline of some sort is obvious, I’m not convinced the significance of decline is as straightforward as Dickerson’s account suggests.

Clearly, this review is not the place to defend an alternate view of the trajectory of American evangelicalism, but I suspect the statistics could tell a more complex and even hopeful story. Dickerson wisely shifts his focus in the second half of the book towards relational discipleship and away from fixation on numbers. Yet ironically his portrait of impending catastrophe assumes the numbers-heavy, results-oriented priorities of what we might call the megachurch era. But as the author himself concedes (e.g., 111), looking to factors like wealth, adherents, and cultural power can be a deceptive way to measure vitality.

Even decades ago, observers such as Os Guiness and David Wells were warning against unintended consequences of pragmatic, seeker-sensitive methods that inflated numbers and distracted focus from the sorts of activities that yield sustainable gospel growth. These methods and their results rested on a cozy cooperation between the priorities and tastes of American culture and those of the church. As cultural values have shifted, it is hardly surprising that cultural incentive to church participation has evaporated. Folks brought in by attractions other than the gospel and fed a diet hostile to the gospel (e.g., “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism”) can hardly be expected to stick around once church affiliation requires taking up any sort of cross.

But if this dynamic at least partly lies behind the declining numbers cited in Dickerson’s study, is what’s happening really a decline? Or are we merely receiving a clearer picture of what was already there, a vivid reminder that there’s no such thing as an accommodating host culture?

As C.S. Lewis observed of his own time and place, it could be that “the religion which has declined was not Christianity,” and that “when no man goes to church except because he seeks Christ the number of actual believers can at last be discovered” (“The Decline of Religion,” in God in the Dock, 219-20). If Lewis’s observation about mid-century England holds true at all for American evangelicalism today, then in fact we may be enjoying a view of long-lost clarity, even a step towards renewal.

NOT FEAR, BUT GOD’S PROMISES

Thankfully, whether and to what extent we’re actually declining is far less important than what we do know with timeless clarity: God will bear lasting fruit by the gospel as it is preached and as it is embodied in faithful local churches. Let’s pray for urgency rooted not in fear or guilt but in the promise that God will reward faithfulness to gospel-centered methods like those Dickerson prescribes.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Matt McCullough is the pastor of Trinity Church in Nashville, Tennessee and the author of My Brother’s Keeper: Christian Nationalism, Messianic Interventionism, and the Spanish-American War of 1898 (University of Wisconsin Press, forthcoming).

Book Review: Imitating God in Christ: Recapturing a Biblical Pattern

Reviewed by Bobby Jamieson

Jason B. Hood, Imitating God in Christ: Recapturing a Biblical Pattern. InterVarsity Press, 2013. 232 pages. $22.00

“What Would Jesus Do?” is a slogan young Reformed types love to hate. But what if it’s a question more of us should be asking?

Gospel-centered-everything is quickly becoming a dominant refrain among younger and not-so-younger evangelicals. In part this is a reaction to the perceived moralism of the previous generation, whether a hardline fundamentalist variety or its squishier evangelical cousin. Two prominent threads in this fabric are gospel-centered holiness and gospel-centered preaching, the latter fueling the former.

Of course, with any reaction comes the peril of overreaction. As C.S. Lewis quipped, “For my own part I hate and distrust reactions not only in religion but in everything. Luther surely spoke very good sense when he compared humanity to a drunkard who, after falling off his horse on the right, falls off it next time on the left” (Fern-seed and Elephants, 66).

In Imitating God in Christ: Recapturing a Biblical Pattern, Jason Hood identifies the concept of imitation as a significant casualty in the gospel-centered counteroffensive against moralism. Should preachers exhort us to imitate biblical examples? Only if we want more “Dare to Be a Daniel” garbage. Should we talk about imitating Jesus? Only if we want to reduce the gospel to moralism or trendy activism. Should we play up the role of godly examples in the church? Only if we care more about copying behaviors than transforming hearts.

In this new book Hood, soon to be pastor of an international Anglican church in Tanzania, wisely pegs these stances as overreactions. And he seeks to rehabilitate the concept of imitation—imitating God in Christ, and imitating God’s people—in theology and church life.

A REACTION TO REACTIONARIES THAT DOESN’T OVERREACT

Much to his credit, in reacting to reactionary overreactions, Hood manages not to overreact. In part, this is because he aims simultaneously at three audiences (see the introduction, ch. 14, and conclusion): The “latitudinal left” likes the idea of imitating Jesus, but doesn’t like the gospel’s ethical and theological sharp edges. The “muddled middle” embraces the idea of imitating Jesus and the saints at a popular level, but without a robust theological foundation are in danger of slipping into lowest-common-denominator moralism. And the “reluctant [read: Reformed] right” insists so strongly on the priority of grace that ethical imitation can feel like a foreign or even hostile element.

Hood’s words to each group are nuanced and gracious, yet incisive. Readers on the Reformed right, I think, will be especially challenged to consider whether any babies have gone missing since the time we threw out the moralistic bathwater.

A BIBLICAL THEOLOGY OF IMITATION

Another reason Hood’s reaction avoids overreacting is that the book is mainly a biblical theology of imitation—and a good one at that. He begins by showing that being made in the image of God necessarily entails that we are imitators of him (ch. 1). We’re meant to rule as he rules and, as priests, to be holy as he is holy (chs. 2-3). In this vein Hood cites Greg Beale’s powerful axiom: “We resemble what we revere, either for ruin or restoration” (44).

In chapter 4, Hood rehabilitates the idea that God doesn’t just work on us or in us but also through us. Next, Hood explores Jesus’ role as God’s perfect image (ch. 5), the Gospels’ call to imitate Christ as a central feature of discipleship (chs. 6-7), the role that the resurrection and the Holy Spirit play in fueling our imitation of Christ (chs. 8-9), and Paul and the other New Testament authors’ insistence that Christians must imitate Christ’s character and cross (chs. 10-11; cf. 1 Pet. 2:18-25).

Particularly helpful in this central section is Hood’s discussion of the indicatives of the gospel as fuel for the imperative of imitation. Imitation’s ethical “Do this!” does not contradict the gospel’s “Done!” Instead, the great indicatives of the gospel—including the cross itself—both power and require our lifelong effort to imitate Christ.

Chapter 12 argues that “If humans are to imitate God, they are also to emulate those who reflect his character”—and this imitation should pervade the lives of local churches. Chapter 13 explores the hermeneutical foundations of imitation, exploring several presuppositions at work in the biblical writers’ own interpretation of Scripture.

The book closes with application to the three audiences (ch. 14), a history of imitation (ch. 15), and a conclusion that synthesizes instruction on imitation from John’s epistles.

WANT FLOURISHING DISCIPLES? BEEF UP YOUR THEOLOGY OF IMITATION

Hood covers lots of ground in little room, so he often skims quickly over deep waters. If you like reading biblical theology, much of the ground the book covers will feel familiar. Yet Hood’s concise writing and careful exegesis make the book a valuable refresher course in some of the main themes of Scripture. (For a similar, if brief, take on imitation applied specifically to ecclesiology, see chapter 3 of What Is a Healthy Church?.)

If you want to skip straight to “So what?” then jump to chapters 13-15. I especially appreciated Hood’s handling of contemporary objections to exemplary preaching on pages 175ff. If you’ve wrestled with whether “Christ-centered” preaching rules out an ethical appeal to examples in Scripture, this section is a must-read. For instance, on David and Goliath, Hood endorses the “Christ typology in David’s work as a messianic conqueror,” yet he likewise affirms, “Believers should learn from David’s confidence in God and God’s victory and the way in which that confidence enabled him to act when all around him were paralyzed” (179).

Further, Hood’s more detailed critique of anti-imitation sentiments in “Reformation Nation” in chapter 14 is measured and spot-on. If your love for the indicative leaves you at all uneasy with imperatives, Hood’s work in this chapter and throughout the book provides a balanced, biblical corrective.

Hood argues that God has built imitation into our very nature: “Few of us try sushi, social media or facial hairstyles unless we are introduced to them by a flesh-and-blood model. Humans do not learn to speak, read, write, tie shoes or perform a vocation without steady doses of imitation” (190). This is all the more true in discipleship to Jesus. Discipleship works by instruction and imitation, by teaching and training. For more on discipleship as imitation and instruction, see chapter 10 of Jonathan Leeman’s Reverberation.

Yes, indicative comes before imperative. But don’t forget that imperative intrinsically follows indicative.

If you want a culture of discipleship to take root and flourish in your church, one step forward is to beef up your theology of imitation. A biblical theology of imitation teaches us not only that imperative follows indicative, but also something about how. And Imitating God in Christ will send you in the right direction along both of those lines.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Bobby Jamieson is assistant editor for 9Marks, a member of Third Avenue Baptist Church in Louisville, Kentucky, and the author of Sound Doctrine: How a Church Grows in the Love and Holiness of God (Crossway, 2013). You can follow him on Twitter.

Book Review: The Trellis and the Vine

Reviewed by John Power

Colin Marshall and Tony Payne, The Trellis and the Vine. Matthias Media, 2009. 196 pp. $14.99.

Everyone loves simple tasks. Daily life is often frustratingly complicated, so we welcome simplicity.

Many Christians tend think that Christian ministry is one of those complicated things in life. Yet, as Colin Marshall and Tony Payne assert, “Christian ministry is really not very complicated. It is simply the making and nurturing of genuine followers of the Lord Jesus Christ through prayerful, Spirit-backed proclamation of the word of God. It’s disciple-making” (151).

Their book The Trellis and the Vine is a straightforward and compelling appeal to pastors to bring about a mind-shift in the way they do ministry. Marshall and Payne argue that ministry simply requires more attention on the vine, and less on the trellis. But what’s with this talk of a trellis and vine? What does it have to do with ministry?

The trellis and the vine are a parable of Christian ministry. The vine represents the central, disciple-making work of Christian ministry: preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit leading to conversion and spiritual growth. The trellis represents the structure and support gospel ministry needs to flourish and thrive. For instance, churches need somewhere to meet and some way to handle finances. In the terms of the parable, a growing vine needs some kind of trellis.

NEEDED: A MINISTRY MIND-SHIFT

So how’s the work going in your church? That is the pivotal question that the authors ask. Most churches fixate on the trellis to the detriment of the vine. And, unfortunately, “most of the trellis work…seems to fall to [the pastor] to organize—rosters, property and building issues, committees, finances, budgets, overseeing the church office, planning and running events” (9). The vine is therefore poorly tended because the most suitable vine-worker is exhausting himself on the trellis. “And that’s the thing about trellis work: it tends to take over from vine work” (9). Thus, Marshall and Payne contend that a mind-shift is required.

They begin their case by zeroing in on the Great Commission. They clearly demonstrate that the commission in Matthew 28:19 is fundamentally to “make disciples,” rather than to “go.” Thus, “It’s a commission that makes disciple-making the normal agenda and priority of every church and every Christian disciple” (13). Churches must make “disciple-making” their main agenda. But sadly, traditionalism and pragmatism often sidetrack churches. The effect is a subtle one. It “is not always that some terrible error becomes entrenched; more often it is that our focus shifts away from our main task and agenda, which is disciple-making” (15, emphasis added).

So if the focus has become misdirected, then a mind-shift is necessary: “From running programs to building people”; “From using people to growing people”; and “From seeking church growth to desiring gospel growth” (17-25).

In a poignant example of how this shift will change one’s ministry, we are told to imagine a “reasonably solid Christian” who comes to you seeking to be more involved. The authors note that many pastors are inclined to immediately begin thinking of “some event or program,” or some “ministry that [the person] could join or support” (26). Instead, pastors should learn to instinctively direct this thoughtful Christian toward people work, or “the prayerful speaking of [God’s] word by one person to another” (27).

Having established this basic mindset of vine work—gospel-centered disciple-making—Marshall and Payne proceed to lay out their case in more detail. They argue that God’s main work in the world is “Spirit-backed gospel preaching leading to the salvation of souls” (35). Thus the New Testament emphasizes gospel growth and the “increase of the word” (see Col. 1:6) rather than church growth defined in terms of numbers attending or decisions made.

Clearly, vine work is not limited to pastors. Instead, “It’s the basic agenda for all disciples. To be a disciple is to be a disciple-maker” (43). Every disciple of Christ has the privilege and joy of “speaking the truth of God to other people in dependence on the Holy Spirit” (49). Thus vine work happens in the home, the congregation, and in the community, and it is essentially a “Bible-reading movement” (57).

Since all disciples are to be disciple-makers, it follows that all disciples will benefit from training on how to do so. Pastors must pass on the good deposit of the gospel (2 Tim. 2:2). This “passing on” includes modeling a gospel-centered way of life. Marshall and Payne identify four basic stages in gospel growth: outreach, follow-up, growth, and training. These labels help pastors categorize individuals, knowing then how to help those individuals in the disciple-making process. And even though the Sunday morning sermon is vital and non-negotiable, it cannot do all the work on its own. Instead, a Richard Baxter-like ministry is required, with an emphasis on “personal catechizing and instructing the flock” (105, quoting Baxter’s The Reformed Pastor). Vine work is inherently personal.

The remainder of the book includes a good deal of helpful and practical ideas on how to recruit and train gospel co-workers (ch. 9), how to keep an eye out for particularly gifted individuals to train (ch. 10), and the benefits of creating a ministry apprenticeship (ch. 11). The authors conclude with some final words on how to start moving a church toward more gospel focus and more vine work (ch. 12).

REFRESHING, BIBLICAL, INDISPENSABLE

This is a refreshing book. Its principles are gospel-centered and biblically shaped. I’ve got one suggestion that might have made a minor improvement to the book. The process of adjusting a church’s focus onto vine work could prove to be difficult. As any relatively seasoned pastor knows, traditionalism and pragmatism often rear their ugly heads in opposition to change, even really important ones like this. A move towards vine work unfortunately may involve conflict and strife, and the authors do not really address this reality. Such a move requires a great deal of preaching, patience, and prayer.

Nonetheless, The Trellis and the Vine is both clear and immensely helpful. It is indeed an indispensible read on the nature of church ministry.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

John Power is the pastor of New Covenant Christian Fellowship in Attleboro, Massachusetts.

Book Review: Gospel-Centered Discipleship

Reviewed by Zach Schlegel

Jonathan K. Dodson, Gospel-Centered Discipleship. Crossway, 2012. 176 pages. $12.99

A few weeks ago I had coffee with several friends to read Scripture and pray for each other. At one point, one of the guys opened up about a sin he’d been fighting that week. I was thankful for his honesty, but concerned about him having a cavalier attitude toward sin. So I warned him about the seriousness of the sin and pressed him on what he was going to do about it.

Later that afternoon, another friend who observed our interaction called me out for being harsh and legalistic. As I thought about it, I realized he was right. Instead of trusting God and pointing him to the gospel, I took matters into my own hands. My takeaway from that experience? Fighting sin, and helping others do the same, is never easy.

“There is no death of sin without the death of Christ.”1 These words were penned by John Owen over 300 years ago, but they remain true today. Killing sin doesn’t happen by trying harder; nor can we do it on our own with a self-help manual. It’s only when we, by faith, are united to Christ in his death and resurrection that the Spirit sets us free from sin’s bondage so that we are able to “walk in newness of life” (Rom. 6:4).

Jonathan Dodson understands this well. In his own struggle as a disciple of Jesus, there have been times he’s fallen into the legalism ditch on one hand and the license ditch on the other. Gospel Centered Discipleship is an accessible book that weaves together the author’s own experience and theological reflections to help the reader avoid both ditches as they seek to follow Jesus and help others do the same.

THE GOSPEL MAKES AND MATURES DISCIPLES

One of the helpful contributions of the book is the reminder in chapter one that making disciples involves proclaiming the gospel and teaching Christians the implications of the gospel. God doesn’t use the gospel to make a Christian and then set it aside to gather dust. It’s what he uses to shape the follower of Christ. Dodson writes that the “gospel-centered definition of discipleship collapses the dichotomy between evangelism and discipleship by showing that disciples are made and matured through repentance and faith in the good news” (40).

Does that mean the Christian sits back and does nothing? No! The New Testament calls the follower of Christ to work (1 Cor. 15:10b; Phil. 2:12; Col. 1:29a). Likewise, Dodson reminds us, “‘Grace is opposed to earning, not effort.’ If we are to enjoy the breathtaking beauty of Jesus, we must put effort into the noble fight of faith” (57).

Does that mean discipleship is all about what we can do in our effort? No! The New Testament calls the Christian to depend on God for growth (1 Cor. 15:10a, Phil. 2:13, Col 1:29b). Likewise, Dodson reminds us, “Gospel holiness is obedience to Christ procured from belief in the gospel, not from one’s moral effort” (88).

The work of the Christian is a laboring to rest or trust in Christ (Jn. 6:29). We cannot do this apart from the gracious work of the Holy Spirit (ch. 5). Dodson asks,

How can we practically rely upon the Spirit to trust the Savior? By the Word and the Spirit of God. The Spirit works through the Word. Like lightning works through steel, the Spirit’s power is released through Scripture to awaken our hearts to the glory of God dazzling off the face of Christ. (132)

After defining terms (part 1) and looking at the heart of discipleship (part 2), Dodson deals with the challenges of applying the gospel (part 3). Knowing that following Jesus is a fight for faith, the author focuses on how God uses community to keep us on track.

Dodson’s idea of a gospel centered discipleship relationship is a “Fight Club”: a group of friends who meet regularly to confess sin, communicate the gospel, pray, and read the Bible. The author does a good job of unpacking what they are, how they function, and the practical issues of getting them started. The Fight Club is at the heart of the book in the sense that it is the vehicle and expression of the gospel centered ideas discussed in parts 1 and 2.

A FEW QUESTIONS

I was helped and encouraged by the book and would happily recommend it as a resource to use in thinking through the role of community in avoiding the dangers of legalism and license. Praise God for His glorious gospel! That said, reading the book raised a few questions that gave me pause.

What about Examples?

First, what about the example of older Christians in the faith? When the Bible speaks of discipleship, it has much to say about examples (Phil. 3:17; 1 Cor. 4:16; 1 Thess. 1:6). Dodson rightly pushes against the professional/novice dichotomy, but the idea of a good example suggests that they are further along and we can learn from watching. If Fight Clubs are made of peers, what role do examples play?

What about the Church?

Second, what about the church? (What would a 9Marks review be without asking this?) Little is said about how a Fight Club can or should connect with the others in the church. If a pastor is going to cast a vision for these groups, how does he help them avoid the error that their Fight Club is their church?

What is meant by “Missional”?

Third, what is meant by “missional”? There are times when Dodson uses the word almost synonymous with evangelism (115). But most of the time he uses the word in a broader sense.2 For instance, he explains that horizontal discipleship “focuses on missional activity such as evangelism, social justice, and cultural renewal” (45). My concern is the way he uses the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18-20) as the basis for this missional focus. The Great Commission functions to shape the mission of the church. When Dodson ties cultural renewal or social justice to it, he is reshaping the mission of the church.

The dangerous irony is that defining missional this way threatens to shift a church away from a gospel center—the very thing Dodson is fighting for. Say a church offers two opportunities to its members: evangelistic outreach or tutoring at a local school. Which one would people sign up for first? Human nature will usually pick the path of least resistance—in this case, tutoring. But if both are seen as equal aspects of the mission of the church, the church is at risk of communicating that evangelism is no more urgent than tutoring, or at worst, is optional.

GOSPEL, YES, BUT ALSO CHURCH

The mission of the church is to make disciples by proclaiming the gospel and gathering them into churches. There, Christians learn what it is to obey all God’s commands, including those commandments which call us to cultural engagement and social action. Gospel Centered Discipleship provides a much needed call to keep the gospel at the heart of our efforts to follow Jesus. But to protect this gospel, God has given the church, which is the “pillar and buttress of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15).

1 Overcoming Sin & Temptation by John Owen, edited by Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor (Wehaton: Crossway, 2006), 79.

2 In footnote 5 of chapter 1, Dodson points us to an article he wrote that explains this further. For a different perspective, see chapter 2 of What is the Mission of the Church? by Kevin DeYoung and Greg Gilbert.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Zach Schlegel is an assistant pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, DC.

Book Review: What Every Pastor Should Know

Reviewed by Matt Felton

Gary L. McIntosh and Charles Arn, What Every Pastor Should Know: 101 Indispensable Rules of Thumb for Leading Your Church. Baker, 2013. 272 pages. $17.99

“They don’t teach you that in seminary.” Pastors, and especially younger ones, are all-too-used to receiving that admonition from their more seasoned co-laborers. Of course, it’s true: seminary can only give you so much. It might give you Greek, but it won’t tell you what to say to a couple whose infant just died. Seminary might tune all five senses for heresy-detection, but it won’t teach you how to run a rowdy member’s meeting.

Theology is only the beginning. Yes, pastors have to rightly divide God’s Word. But shouldn’t they also know how to navigate their way through the streets of practical ministry?

Gary McIntosh and Charles Arn think so, and they’ve written What Every Pastor Should Know to help. Stocked with 101 brief “rules of thumb” helpfully divided into 15 categories, What Every Pastor Should Know is an attempt at a brief encyclopedia of all things related to practical ministry leadership—from birthing small groups to planning the appropriate number of restrooms in your worship center. All the stuff they don’t teach you in seminary.

COMMENDATIONS

Unsurprisingly, in a book covering such a broad terrain of ministry skills, there is much to commend. There are good, careful sections on fully assimilating members (86-88) and developing new leaders (171-173), for starters.

Generally speaking, the book is full of wise “street knowledge” for any and all leaders, and that includes pastors. The authors straightforwardly endorse longer pastorates where possible, going so far as to question and even deflate some of the more typical justifications for switching pastorates (173-176). In the same vein, the authors rightly warn against some of the unique and deadly temptations that senior pastors often face: “One of the greatest dangers of a church building program is that the pastor may unconsciously seek a memorial and, in a subtle way, the building can become the possessor of the pastor” (191).

Like most writers in the church growth guild, McIntosh and Arn clearly write from an evangelistic burden. That heartbeat pervades the entire book (12, 61, 200, 248, 260), and serves a good reminder for pastors to pray for the lost, and strategize ways to reach them.

Further, in a number of laudable ways, the brand of church growth espoused by these authors is actually more nuanced than their stereotyped allies. They make a clean distinction between evangelism and discipleship, attempting to emphasize the priority of both (13), and even clarify that the role of church leaders is not to entertain pew sitters (241).

THE USUAL PITFALL

Practical ministry guides can never be a-theological. Orthopraxy is critical, but it can’t ever be separated from orthodoxy. For better or for worse, theology will always fuel practice, even when you claim to have no theology, which is just bad theology. Unfortunately, though the authors typically steer clear of theological grit, too many of the practical principles in this book betray an unstable theological foundation, namely, the false equation of “Growth = Health.”

Whatever the title and subtitle suggest, this is ultimately a practical manual for church growth. Virtually every rule of thumb in this book is given for the express purpose of growing your church, and then sustaining that growth. The entire book assumes that God’s universal intention is for every church to grow larger.

Further, the authors assume that those “divine growth-intentions” are often, if not always, inhibited by ill-informed and but easily remedied pastoral malpractices. “God wants your church to grow. He created it to grow. Sometimes it’s just a matter of finding out why it’s not growing and removing those obstacles” (244).

The problem here is twofold, devastating, and sadly typical of the church growth movement. First, even granting that God desires growth (which some of us who aspire to be “faithful” and “discerning” do well to remember), the book provides virtually no description of what growth actually entails. For too many pastors and too many churches, church growth is virtually equivalent to cross-town sheep stealing.

So exactly what sort of growth is God after? Does he simply want bigger churches? Does he simply want your church bigger, even if it’s at the cost of the likeminded church across town? Are megachurches always healthier churches? For a book so singularly focused on leading your church to grow, these basic questions are puzzlingly unaddressed.

And second, even granting that poor leadership can unnecessarily inhibit growth, and even the right kind of growth, is it really true that sound, faithful leadership will always yield growth? The entire book implicitly fosters an expectation that, if you follow these rules of thumb, then your church will inevitably grow in varying degrees. But if the primary kind of growth that we’re after is growth by conversion, then on what biblical grounds can we possibly expect that?

Isn’t any single conversion a supernatural act of God, irreproducible by human device (e.g., John 3:8, 1 Cor. 3:6-7)? Removing the supernatural from conversion—intentionally or not—inevitably leads to faulty leadership practices (which tend toward manipulation), faulty expectations, and, most distressingly, false conversions.

Malnourished people need a proper, balanced diet to grow and add healthy pounds. And though they might achieve the poundage by feasting on a diet of desserts and sodas—and perhaps amore quickly—those extra pounds might leave them in a more critical, less healthy condition than before. Growth isn’t always the same as health.

CHERRY-PICK WITH CAUTION

This book is a wonderful idea, packaged in an excellent, user-friendly format. What pastor couldn’t benefit from a resource on his shelf that he could pull for a quick read on leading a staff through change, or on beginning a church budget?

As a young pastor who has not only frequently heard, but has now often voiced “They didn’t teach me that in seminary,” I appreciated and benefited from much of this book’s practical offerings. But there are some very basic theological deficiencies undergirding this project. So cherry-pick some of these leadership principles, but use caution. You could basically follow everything that this book says, and still be an unfaithful pastor—even if your church grows as a result.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Matt Felton is associate pastor of ministry development at Henderson Hills Baptist Church in Edmond, Oklahoma.

Book Review: Churches, Cultures & Leadership

Reviewed by Geoff Chang

Mark Lau Branson and Juan Martinez, Churches, Cultures & Leadership: A Practical Theology of Congregations and Ethnicities. IVP Academic, 2011. $25.00

A friend of mine was recently asked to take charge of the childcare ministry of her ethnic church. This ministry had long frustrated her, so she saw this as a great opportunity to implement reform. She decided to send out a survey to the church to see what areas of improvement were most needed. She was surprised by the response: The English-speaking congregation responded with all the same criticisms and frustration that she felt. However, the immigrant congregation responded with glowing reviews and positive feedback for that ministry. Change was not going to be as easy as she had hoped.

As many of our communities grow increasingly diverse, it should not be surprising that the same diversity is being reflected in our churches. As the gospel is preached to all, it is powerful to bring together those who otherwise have nothing in common. And yet, having brought these people into a church, how are we to pursue unity among such diversity? What does leadership in a culturally diverse context look like? These are the sorts of questions that Mark Lau Branson and Juan Martinez attempt to answer in Churches, Cultures & Leadership.

This book is split up into three parts. The first is “Theology and Context.” It engages the Bible’s teaching on the importance of diversity and culture. The second part, “Sociocultural Perspectives,” gives a number of different categories for understanding cultural differences. The third part, “Leadership, Communication and Change,” describes how to lead a church to and through greater diversity.

CRITIQUES

The biggest weakness of this book is that it fails to make the gospel the center of church unity. There are discussions of many good topics: God’s purpose in crossing borders (35-37), the role of Scripture and creeds (43), the importance of mission (64-67), and more. But none of them get at the main thing: the unity of the local church is grounded in what Christ has accomplished in the gospel.

Granted, this book is not meant to be a theological work on justification or the atonement. But the gospel has huge implications for how we relate to one another in the midst of our diversity. What difference does being created in God’s image make? How does knowing our sinfulness foster humility? How does the cross transform our relationships? What fruit do repentance and faith bear in relationships across cultural divides? By assuming the gospel, the authors failed to draw on the one thing that distinctly unites Christians to one another.

Another significant weakness is in their definition of a church. The Bible makes no promises as to whether we’ll find unity outside of the church. But inside the local church, God promises to be at work in the lives of his people to display his power. Therefore, in a book on congregational unity, it really matters that we rightly understand what the church is.

The clearest definition the writers give of a church is “a group of people who regularly, face-to-face, come together for worship, learning and caregiving, and live in their own context with concerns for witness and good works” (60). That’s not a bad start. But the problem is, it’s only a start.

What differentiates a church from a small group, or a campus meeting, or a denominational gathering? It’s clear from the introduction and the case studies throughout the book that the authors are drawing from many theological traditions, all of which might have a different understanding of what a church is. Unfortunately, there is little interaction with these different understandings, implying that they are equally valid or that the differences don’t matter.

WHAT’S HELPFUL

Given these critiques, is there anything in this book that is helpful? Definitely.

The most helpful part of the book is the second section, which explains how cultural worldviews work, and then walks through a number of categories of worldview differences. For example, in the chapter on social relations, Martinez walks through the following categories of differences in how cultures view social relationships:

• Hierarchy and equality (136)

• How people form social groups (140)

• Social obligations among friends, rich/poor, and so on (141)

• How people define friendships and personal relationships (144)

• The value of being liked (146)

• How people resolve conflict or problems (146)

• Informal and formal ways people relate to one another (148)

• The value of competition and cooperation (149)

• Societal roles (151)

For each one, he unpacks how American culture differs in these areas from other cultures, illustrating these differences with stories from different churches. In addition to social relationships, the book also elaborates on issues of communication, identity, and even perception and thinking.

This could be hugely helpful for a pastor who is encountering cultural diversity and finding himself mis-communicating with his people. Working through this section might introduce a pastor to new categories to understand cultural differences and expose him to his own culturally-loaded ways of thinking that he wasn’t even aware of.

TWO REFLECTIONS

In reflecting on this book, two observations stood out to me. First, this book highlights for me the importance of humility in a multi-cultural church. In describing different patterns of thinking within cultures, the authors do a good job of revealing blind spots.

The problem with blind spots, of course, is that we’re not aware of our assumptions, even while we order our lives around them. One side cares about efficient problem solving and personal success, while the other side is offended at how little attention is being given to personal relationships or family obligations. In most cases, both sides of a cultural divide have good, godly desires, as well as weaknesses and temptations. Therefore, what’s needed throughout a congregation is a huge dose of humility. Rather than automatically concluding that people are in sin, we should humbly work toward a mutual understanding of the cultural differences beneath our disagreements.

In a church with multiple cultures represented, it would be humble and wise for those in the majority culture to recognize there’s always more they can do to accommodate other cultures. And likewise, those in minority cultures would demonstrate a godly humility by being willing to sacrifice and extend grace in order to be part of a church where they are not the majority culture.

Second, in all the cultural differences that explained and illustrated by the book, it’s clear that there really is no one-size-fits-all model for cultivating unity in diversity. The New Testament does give us many commands on how we are to structure our churches. Church membership and discipline, qualifications for elders and deacons, baptism and the Lord’s Supper—all these are essential for the health of a church. Yet within and surrounding these things, there are still countless opportunities for misunderstanding and conflict. What’s needed is case-by-case, Spirit-empowered wisdom.

This is all the more reason why there must be a theological basis for our unity. Though God does not provide an organizational structure that can solve all of our differences, he provides something far better: the finished work of Jesus that unites us into one Body. As Bonhoeffer said, “Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate.”1

CONCLUSION

If you’re looking for a book that explains how cultural differences might play out in the context of the local church, this could be a very helpful resource. That’s not because being cultural savvy itself is the key to unity. The gospel unites us. But compelled by the gospel, we want to do all we can to pursue mutual understanding and love.

1 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community, trans. John W. Doberstein (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1954), 30.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Geoff Chang is an associate pastor of Hinson Baptist Church in Portland, Oregon.

Book Review: Encouragement for Today’s Pastors: Help from the Puritans

Reviewed by Patrick Schreiner

Joel R. Beeke and Terry D. Slachter, Encouragement for Today’s Pastors: Help from the Puritans. Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2013. 211 pages. $15.00

Encouragement for Today’s Pastors is meant for troubled and discouraged pastors. Hebrews 13:17 tells us to learn from the examples of faithful ministers, and Joel Beeke and Terry Slachter use the seventeenth-century Puritans as their exemplars.

They cover six different aspects of the Puritans’ theology and pastoral practice that we can learn from: piety, sovereignty, clarity, creativity and community, dignity, and eternity.

The book begins with the problem: pastors are leaving their churches because of the countless pressures on them. This includes self-imposed pressures, pressures from the congregation, and spiritual pressures. “Fifteen hundred pastors leave their churches each month due to conflict, burnout, or moral failure” (1).

Although the Puritans are not perfect, they provide good examples which pastors can imitate. As the authors say, “though this book is intended to strengthen the mind, it aims at ways in which the Puritans can strengthen the heart” (14).

Beeke is known as a go-to writer on the Puritans. In this book he summarizes and consolidates pastoral reflections on their ministries and lives, pulling out significant quotes to illustrate his points. The authors do not focus on one Puritan particularly, but employ many of them to tie different themes together.

The book is a good introduction to some of the emphases of the Puritans. If you’re not well acquainted with their writings and need some pastoral encouragement, then this is a helpful little book.

However, if one is familiar with the Puritans there is not much new here. The authors’ aims were not to provide groundbreaking research or new information. So if you have already read a good introduction to the Puritans, then it might be better to go ahead and read the primary sources themselves. On the other hand, the authors do concisely and logically synthesize points from the Puritans, who tend to be verbose. Readers will have to evaluate the value of the book based on their background and situation.

Each time I read about the Puritans I am newly impressed with their devotion to the Lord in prayer and in study. They also rightly talked about the joys of heaven and the terrors of hell. I was also reminded of the high calling which they place upon the pastorate. The authors do a good job of covering the major emphases of these ministers.

I would have enjoyed it if the authors complemented the strengths of the Puritans with some of their weaknesses. I realize this might not sound encouraging. However, many times encouragement comes from seeing people’s strengths and weaknesses.

In particular I would have liked to see a discussion of what communion with God is. From my limited reading it seems that the Puritans relegate communion with God to prayer and reading the Scriptures. This view seemed to be confirmed in the book. I wonder if the Puritans had reflections on communion with God through relaxation, family time, or sport? I bring this up because some pastors may need more breaks or sabbaticals. They need to get out of the study and out of the counseling session and go to a baseball game. Some pastors reading about Puritans rising at 3 a.m. for communion with God may be more discouraged than encouraged.

Positively, there was much to learn from in the section on communion with other saints. The Puritans set good examples of getting together with other like-minded pastors for encouragement and refreshment. In our wireless era, this can and should be imitated more rigorously.

Beeke and Slachter have provided a good overview of some of the pastoral emphases of Puritans pastors. A troubled or discouraged pastor can certainly be enlivened by attending to these “sweet droppers.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Patrick Schreiner is a PhD student in New Testament and Assistant to the Director of Doctoral Research Programs at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Book Review: Understanding Biblical Theology

Reviewed by Samuel Emadi

Edward W. Klink III and Darian R. Lockett, Understanding Biblical Theology: A Comparison of Theory and Practice. Zondervan, 2012. 193 pp.

What is biblical theology? The question is unfortunately not as easy to answer as many would like. For some, biblical theology may activate memories of seminary assignments demanding careful historical reconstructions and taxing lexical studies. For others biblical theology evokes anything from the works of Geerhardus Vos to the preaching of Tim Keller to academic debates over theological interpretation of Scripture.

In light of this confusion, Edward “Mickey” Klink and Darian Lockett are on target when they suggest in their new book Understanding Biblical Theology that “biblical theology has become a catchphrase, a wax nose that can mean anything from the historical-critical method applied to the Bible to a theological interpretation of Scripture that in practice appears to leave history out of the equation altogether” (13). Or as Carson wryly quips, “Everyone does that which is right in his or her own eyes, and calls it biblical theology” (78).

THE SPECTRUM OF BIBLICAL THEOLOGY

Thankfully students and pastors now have a reliable guide to the various types of biblical theology on offer in today’s theological market. Klink and Lockett’s Understanding Biblical Theology defines and analyzes five major types of biblical theology along a spectrum from those more concerned with matters of history to those more focused on matters of theology.

The authors separate their work into five parts. Each part consists of one chapter defining the biblical-theological method and then another chapter analyzing the works of one of its foremost proponents. Chapters which define biblical-theological methods generally follow the same outline and address the “perennial issues” associated with biblical theology: the relationship between the Old and New Testament, the historical diversity and the theological unity of the Bible, the scope of biblical theology and whether the sources should be restricted to the Christian canon, and whether biblical theology is a task for the church or for the academy (20-21).

Part 1 explores biblical theology as “historical description” (BT1) and the work of James Barr. BT1 is strongly associated with the disciplines of the historical-critical method. Barr and his associates asserted that biblical theology was a purely descriptive task, and that the aim of biblical theology is to describe the historical events and religion which are “behind the text.”

Part 2 investigates biblical theology as “history of redemption” (BT2). This type of biblical theology is most commonly associated with conservative evangelicals and is championed by D.A. Carson. BT2 focuses on God’s unfolding revelation in history. Carson explains it as “a discipline necessarily dependent on reading the Bible as an historically developing collection of documents” (59). Proponents of BT2 believe that the Bible is one unified narrative and strive for a “whole-Bible” biblical theology “through an inductive analysis of key themes developing through both discrete corpora and the whole of Scripture” (61).

Part 3 explains biblical theology as “worldview-story” (BT3), a term coined by N.T. Wright, who also serves as Klink and Lockett’s model proponent. The “worldview-story” model focuses on reading the storyline of Scripture “through” the text, rather than reconstructing the history “behind” the text (96). The authors explain: “Instead of progressing from the smallest bits and pieces of the narrative to the larger whole, BT3 starts with the larger narrative portions of text through which individual units are read” (95).

Part 4 explores biblical theology as “canonical approach” (BT4) as well as the writings of Brevard Childs. In this brand of biblical theology, historical-critical tools are used not to reconstruct the events that took place behind the text (as in BT1) but to discern the “editorial reinterpretations” within the canon (189). This also gives BT4 a unique concern for the “final form” of the text which, as the church’s scripture, should be read as ultimately witnessing to Christ himself.

Part 5 analyzes biblical theology as “theological construction” (BT5) and the work of Francis Watson. BT5 “posits a modest critique of the abuses of historical criticism and proposes a specifically theological approach to biblical theology” (157). It also proposes that interpretation should be governed by theological concerns for the church rather than by the categories of history, redemptive history, story, or canon. In BT5 the ultimate aim of biblical theology is to read the Bible with an overtly theological perspective for the service and transformation of the church.

Each of these biblical-theological methods have some overlap with the others and it is difficult to draw sharp lines of distinction between each method (particularly between BT2, BT3, and BT4). However, Klink and Lockett are on target when they highlight that each method and its advocates have a particular hermeneutical emphasis.

• BT1 emphasizes history and the reconstruction of what happened “behind” the text.

• BT2 is a bit of a catch-all category. It is concerned with history, but history rightly interpreted through Scripture, which progressively reveals God’s unfolding work of redemption.

• BT3 moves away from historical concerns and emphasizes the Bible as a worldview-shaping narrative. History is important but only insofar as it provides the “theatrical backdrop for the biblical narrative” (187). In this sense BT3 emphasizes the “story” aspect of the Bible.

• The key-word for BT4 is canon. We can construct a biblical theology by paying careful attention to how the canon itself develops the biblical storyline, whether by editorial redaction or use of earlier portions of the canon in latter parts.

• BT5 emphasizes theology. BT5 promotes reading Scripture through the grid of the theological convictions of the church. Graphically (if a bit simplistically) the positions relate like this:

A PLACE TO START

Klink and Lockett have certainly done their homework. The issues are highly nuanced and the authors’ prose can be a little confusing—readers will have to work hard to keep their bearings. Yet Klink and Lockett’s work is balanced, well-researched, and level-headed. Readers unfamiliar with—or perhaps even a little frightened of—the overwhelming amount of biblical theology literature and its technical academic language will find Understanding Biblical Theology a launching pad for further study. Klink and Lockett also provide helpful explanations of commonly used technical words or phrases. For example, the authors include a brief yet enlightening explanation of N.T. Wright’s use of “narrative” and “story” and how such technical terms relate to Wright’s notion of “worldview-story” (101-102, 110-117).

The authors also shed light on debates within the various brands of biblical theology. They provide a carefully nuanced discussion of the methodological disagreements between Richard Hays and N.T. Wright (104-106). They also insightfully describe variations within the “history of redemption” model, which they divide into three schools of thought that are characterized by the theological distinctives of Dallas Theological Seminary, Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, and Westminster Theological Seminary.

Further, for those engaged in teaching biblical theology, I find Klink and Lockett’s “history-to-theology” spectrum and their identification of five primary types of biblical theology quite helpful.

NEEDED, TIMELY, AND HELPFUL

Klink and Lockett’s survey of biblical-theological methods is a timely resource. As already mentioned, biblical theology is a label that has become “all things to all people” and one man’s biblical theology is another man’s heresy. For pastors who have neither the time nor the resources to wade through the ocean of literature on biblical-theological method, Klink and Lockett have provided a succinct, informed guide on the subject.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Samuel Emadi is a PhD Candidate in Old Testament at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and a member at Hopewell Baptist Church in Louisville, KY.

July 2013
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