West Port Experiment

Micro-presbyterians study hard to get things right. We dot our i’s and cross our t’s. And yet for all our learning, we can miss some pretty big things—in fact, some pretty big presbyterian things. Church-planting would definitely be one of them.

I speak from experience. For nearly the entirety of my 29-year Reformed career, I’ve been a ‘micro-presbyterian.’ I skipped the 1689 thing, past the (relatively) big-tent Reformed bodies, going straight into the Presbyterian Reformed Church, a very small psalm-singing body formed in 1965. I rather distaste the term ‘micro-presbyterian,’ especially with its connotations of over-scrupulosity and cantankerousness; and, the term may be a little dated. But in any case, God put me here, and I love my denomination. (And getting a gorgeous wife and elder’s daughter out of deal didn’t hurt either!).

I also think it has come a long way over the years. I feel that we have matured simultaneously, from a kind of cage-stage to something more balanced, stable, and seasoned. It has also helped, quite frankly, that we decided to join NAPARC some years back. Sure, it made us a pariah with many who might otherwise have sought us out. But often, those very types would never be happy in any case until they were safe in the embrace of an ecclesiastical micromanager or worshipping every Lord’s day in their own living-room.

I know we all have learned the hard way from many mistakes, missteps, and quite frankly, sins. “In many things, we offend all.” While we cannot deny the light that the Lord has graciously shown us, but embrace and follow on in it; while we cannot but press forward to the higher and better attainments of the First and Second Reformations and maintain them with diligence and zeal, we must also humbly acknowledge where we have mixed holy with unholy fire, and where we have in fact justified means by ends. Sometimes in our earnestness for truth we have cut corners; sometimes we’ve cut far more than just corners. But two wrongs do not make a right. And we may never “do evil that good may come.”

A significant manifestation of this among us micro-presbyterians is in the formation of new congregations. We often will solicit or too warmly receive the solicitations from group of Christians who espouse our particular principles without sufficient care for good order and fraternal relations. We can too quickly listen to their plights, take things at face value, do less than adequate pastoral homework, etc., etc. And soon enough, we have another pin on the map. Now, please don’t misunderstand me. As one who finds himself at home in a micro-presbyterian body and who is fully convinced of her distinctives (as with Groundskeeper Willie, I’m a committed “Scottish Old Believer Presbyterian!”), I fully realize one sometimes has to move on and realign. Or, at least, sometimes it is best for edification and the most peace for all involved. Sadly, fences there must be. And fences can make good neighbors. But we can easily put them up too quickly or without proper care.

I am also pastoring a congregation which was planted with a group of believers who technically could have worshipped or continued worshipping elsewhere, but whose convictions lay with the original Westminster position. So lest any of the following seem as though I’m against all forming of congregations of believers from other churches, I am not. I do, however, have a good conscience about how we went about it. And a fair amount of that is on account of the collective and personal experience gained within my denomination over the years. I know we have more to learn. And if we suggested we were without sin, we would be liars and would make God such! No, God forbid—we have certainly not yet attained. But I would like to share several principles that I think have risen to the surface of our consciousness as we are moving us into the next phase of our small denomination’s life. It is a question of home missions, or church-planting. What principles should govern those who consider themselves rock-ribbed, covenanting Westminsterians?

1. Kingdom first, denomination second.

The directive is simple, though hardly simplistic. “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and his righteousness.” The great, overarching passion of every believer should be the advancement not of any denomination or sect, however close they may be to the true apostolic pattern, but the Kingdom of God. While some churches under heaven are, admittedly, purer than others, our goal should never ultimately be the growth of any denomination. Much less should we indulge in the crassness of partisanship, of names, brands, and loyalties. “Now this I say, that every one of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ. Is Christ divided? was Paul crucified for you? or were ye baptized in the name of Paul?”

This radical Kingdom-prioritization and anti-partisanship has ever been at the heart of historic Presbyterianism. While founding the Free Church of Scotland, Thomas Chalmers declared, “Who cares for the Free Church, except as an instrument of Christian good?” And ‘Rabbi’ John Duncan had his irreversible priorities, “I am first a Christian, next a catholic, then a Calvinist, fourth a paedobaptist, and fifth a Presbyterian. I cannot reverse this order.” Schism is sin, full-stop; and even necessary division is to be lamented . . . and tolerated only when it is past all remedy.

And so, the growth that is most desirable, is not growth of one denomination over another. Again, Chalmers grieved over how far below the high ideals of Kingdom-advancement churches of his day could fall. Their congregations would grow, for sure. There would be a gifted preacher “with great powers of oratory, eloquence, and impressive preaching” packing out his church. “But with whom? With the people who were formerly attending other churches; so that he fills his church at the expense of previous congregations. There is no increase of church goers, in this process; there is no creation of new worshippers; it is mere transference of the old worshippers to a new place of worship.” Is this ideal? Is it healthy as a policy or default mission approach? To rob Peter to pay Paul?

Now, I quite realize that the degree of confessional decline is far greater today, and that sometimes we have to travel some distance to go where we may receive sound preaching and teaching, if not the whole 1646 package. Sometimes, it can even mean relocating. But how deeply have we really imbibed Paul’s spirit in our church-extension, home mission projects? “Yea, so have I strived to preach the gospel, not where Christ was named, lest I should build upon another man’s foundation: but as it is written, To whom he was not spoken of, they shall see: and they that have not heard shall understand” (Rom. 15:20).

2. Think more geographically and permeate.

And in that Pauline vein, why do we not think and strategize more geographically? Instead of waiting for some group of already-Christians (or more to the point, already psalm-singers, etc.) half a continent away, why do we not leaven our Jerusalem, then leaven Judea, then leaven Samaria? If our goal is Kingdom-first, and if we can evangelize, begin Bible studies, and erect preaching stations anywhere, why not begin first in our county or state? Aside from being much more practical and economical, we would be planting a capella psalm-singing, lady-hat-wearing, Sabbath-keeping churches from scratch. And, with God’s blessing, could we perhaps even create much more tightened, compact, and effective presbyteries? And could we not set forth a commendable example to other Reformed churches who do not espouse our distinctives, that we can like our forefathers both prioritize the Kingdom and sedulously maintain the old paths and reproduce ourselves without recourse to so much harvesting of their people, or worse, outright sheep-stealing? This should not be an either-or proposition: either we focus on the Gospel, or we promote historic Presbyterianism within the broader church. A false dichotomy if there ever was one.

And once again, Chalmers reminds us not to think big, but small. Really small—in our own backyard:

Now the specific business which we should like to put into the hands of a Christian minister is, not that he should fill his church any how—that he may do by the superior attractiveness of his preaching, at the expense of previous congregations, and without any movement in advance on the practical heathenism of the community: But what we want is, to place his church in the middle of such a territory as we have now specified, and to lay upon him a task, for the accomplishment of which we should allow him the labour and perseverance of a whole lifetime; not fill his church anyhow, but to fill this church out of that district. We should give him the charge over head, of one and all of its families; and tell him, that, instead of seeking hearers from without, he should so shape and regulate his movements, that, as far as possible, his church-room might all be taken up by hearers from within. It is this peculiar relation between his church, and its contiguous households, all placed within certain geographical limits, that distinguishes him from the others as a territorial minister. And let the whole country be parcelled out into such districts and parishes, with an endowed clergyman so assigned to each, and each small enough to be overtaken by the attentions of one clergyman—we should thus, as far as its machinery is concerned, have the perfect example of a territorial establishment.

3. Confess and practice catholicity.

Micro-presbyterians like me espouse the Confession of Faith. But how seriously do we actually believe what we confess? That there is a “visible catholic Church” on earth, comprised of “all those who profess the true faith, together with their children?” That “particular churches” are “more or less pure,” and that even the “purest churches under heaven,” including confessional Presbyterians (!), “are subject both to mixture and error?” And that the unity of the Body of Christ is a reality already, and its worldwide communion something that requires us to extend a real and genuine hand of fellowship (much more than a sop)? “Which communion [of the saints], as God offereth opportunity, is to be extended unto all those who, in every place, call upon the name of the Lord Jesus.”

And how often can we approach denominational growth in a spirit that is perhaps subtly, but no less really, in practical disregard of these great truths? Whatever some may say of NAPARC, we in the Presbyterian Reformed Church fully embrace the duty and obligation to “maintain the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.” That, without compromise of truth, we should really and meaningfully recognize that there are in fact others in the Church of Christ besides ourselves, and that, however flawed we may judge some churches and communions, they are yet “bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh.” And that, consequently, we should honor the principle of “comity” when church-planting. At the very least, we should be in advance and continued communication with recognizably Reformed bodies when we contemplate moving in next-door. And we should treat them with the dignity and respect they deserve as citizens of Zion and not as bystanders, or worse, as practical “heathen men and publicans.” We should, further, default by respecting their discipline, until and only after we have persuaded ourselves that it was in error. Should we decide to proceed in a local area with our own denominational work, we may do so freely, provided we have honored all and not simply some of our Lord’s commandments, both the last six as well as the first four. And if we can at all have some real measure of communion and collaboration, let us do so! Why on earth should we be as Dan, “secure” and “having no business with any man?” I for one prize my relationships with men of other denominations, including independent, Calvinistic churches. In some ways, they may put us to shame. And does not the Lord “have a few things against” us as well?

And one more thing. Are the interests of promoting truly historic, confessional Presbyterian doctrine, worship, government, and discipline best served overall in the more unilateral manner of micropresbyterian church-planting? In this way, do we ultimately commend our principles by our policies? If we aren’t at least somewhat more careful, we can “make our name to stink” among otherwise good Reformed churches, and with that, the principles that we cherish. I would rather win neighboring pastors and churches to the old paths, if at all possible. Call this mushy if you like. I call it Christian.

4. Keep a pastoral perspective.

Even if we can acquit ourselves with a clear conscience that we are not being sectarian or divisive in our denominational home missions efforts, we should at the very least be careful in taking on folks too quickly and without due pastoral caution. Let’s not kid ourselves. Becoming Reformed does not cure consumerism. It can, however, refine it and give it a more cerebral shape. But make no mistake—we can attract the religiously fastidious and only enable many restless souls who will hop and hop and hop through churches to their own hurt (and others).

Again, I’m not saying that one shouldn’t accept the transfer of a Reformed guy becoming more Reformed. But I am saying, we shouldn’t just assume that there are no real, underlying pastoral problems that we might only exacerbate by snatching them up. A transfer is but a piece of paper if there is no meaningful transfer and exchange of pastoral care. Ok, maybe the former pastor had a laundry-list of real problems. But is it fair to assume that? And is it really wise? Let’s be, like William Perkins of old, a “Reformed catholicke,” and pick up the phone.

On the mission model I’ve proposed above, however, we would on the balance be taking on known baggage—or firsthand baggage. With the raw heathen convert, what you see is what you get. Now sure, we’ll take the baggage of both from far and near, as the Lord brings them into our midst. But it takes a little more care, I think, in taking on baggage that we don’t see and that may have been carefully concealed, as though there was none.

5. Lament division, work for union, and partner.

The last principle that I think bears on confessional Presbyterian home missions (or ‘micro-presbyterians’ if I am to be stuck with that label), is that we should truly grieve over the divisions of Christ’s Body. Divisions that tear what ought to be the seamlessly-woven garment of the Savior. Some of our divisions may be unpreventable, yes. But shouldn’t we seriously grieve over them? And all the more if there was actual sin and schism behind them. Either way, shouldn’t we be working much harder at repairing these breaches, in peace and in truth, that our Savior’s prayer may be fully realized, “that they all may be one?” So many Presbyterians talk about the unity of the Church. But how many of us really do anything about it? What a black eye on the cause of Christ! What a stumbling block to those who are outsiders! Should they not recognize us for the love we have for each other?

And what a shame on us especially who claim to be disciples of Durham, Shields, and M’Crie! Professor Murray, who helped organize our small body, summed it up well, that “the unity of the church is in Christ and it is both a given reality and also a requirement. The unity of the faith is both gift and mandate.” And, “The church is compelled to give expression to this reality and requirement, this gift and mandate, by actively seeking the promised goal, namely, that of being one body which serves the Lord in perfect peace, purity, and unity.” He also went so far as to say, “the obliteration of denominational separateness is an obligation resting upon these Churches of Christ” (emphasis mine). And he persuasively proceeds to argue that Jesus’ prayer for unity in fact had as one major goal the ultimate success of the Kingdom of God in the world.

Visible and tangible catholicity goes hand-in-hand with missions. We ought to be as Paul, who went out of his way to see Peter, to confer with those who were in Christ before him, to extend before everyone the right hand of fellowship, and then to divide and conquer. Like Joab and Abishai fighting a common battle on two fronts, so the two preeminent apostles treated each other like equals, honored each other as sons of the same mother, eschewed all competition and united in the campaign to Christianize the world.

Now if they could do it, why can’t we?

²⁷ With their prince, little Benjamin,
princes and council there
Of Judah were, there Zabulon’s
and Napht’li’s princes were.

²⁸ Thy God commands thy strength; make strong
what thou wrought’st for us, Lord.
²⁹ For thy house at Jerusalem
kings shall thee gifts afford.

(Psalm 68:27-29, Scottish Metrical Version)

[Postscript]

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Whole doctrine catholicity | “Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners” (Song 6:10)?