The Gospel Coalition

“If we lived in a state where virtue was profitable, common sense would make us saintly. But since we see that avarice, anger, pride and stupidity commonly profit far beyond charity, modesty, justice and thought perhaps we must stand fast a little, even at the risk of being heroes.” (A Man For All Seasons)

There are few theological issues more important and more difficult than the relationship of the Christian to the law. In recent years in particular there have been a lot of conversations and controversies about the proper use of the law in the believer’s progressive sanctification. We all know we are justified by faith apart from works of the law, but what is the place for obedience to the law after we are justified?

One explanation—and the best succinct one I know of—comes from Chapter XIX of the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCF). For Reformed Christians in general, this ought to summarize what we believe. For Presbyterian office bearers in particular, this is what you swear to uphold. For Christians at large, there are plenty of Bible references in the WCF so you can see for yourself if these things are so.

I’ll ask the questions, and let Chapter XIX give the answers. Whenever the text is in italics that means I’m quoting directly from the Confession.

*******

Me: Hey, thanks for being willing to meet with me WCF. I know you are busy and very old, so I’ll try not to take up too much of your time. I just have a few questions about the law. For starters, where did the law come from? Was it just added after the fall?

WCF: God gave to Adam a law, as a covenant of works, by which he bound him and all his posterity to personal, entire, exact, and perpetual obedience, promised life upon the fulfilling, and threatened death upon the breach of it.

Me: Kind of wordy, WCF, but I think I get it. God gave Adam the law from the very beginning, even before sin entered the world.

WCF: Right.

Me: Too bad Adam had no way of keeping the law.

WCF: No, God endued him with power and ability to keep it.

Me: Okay, but after the fall, man was incapable of keeping the law.

WCF: True.

Me: So what purpose did the law serve once sin entered the world through Adam?

WCF: This law, after his fall, continued to be a perfect rule of righteousness; and, as such, was delivered by God upon Mount Sinai, in ten commandments.

Me: So does that mean we have to follow everything God told Moses to do, even all the food laws and sacrifices and stuff?

WCF: No, because beside this law summarized in the Ten Commandments—let’s call that the moral law, God was pleased to give to the people of Israel, as a church under age, ceremonial laws.

Me: And what were those?

WCF: They contained several typical ordinances, partly of worship, prefiguring Christ, his graces, actions, sufferings, and benefits; and partly, holding forth divers instructions of moral duties.

Me: And do we need to follow these kinds of laws?

WCF: All ceremonial laws are now abrogated, under the new testament.

Me: And what about all the laws for Israel as a nation. I mean, we’re not a theocracy anymore, so how are we supposed to keep those?

WCF: To them also, as a body politic, he gave sundry judicial laws, which expired together with the State of that people, not obliging any other now.

Me: Makes sense. So we can pretty much ignore all those laws for the nation of Israel.

WCF: Not exactly. We still have to be mindful what the general equity thereof may require.

Me: If I’m hearing you correctly, then, these ceremonial and judicial aspects of Mosaic law are not longer required, at least not in the same way.

WCF: That’s right.

Me: But what about the thing you mentioned first, the moral law, you know, the laws summarized in the Ten Commandments? What happened to those?

WCF: The moral law doth forever bind all.

Me: Even after we are justified?

WCF: As well justified persons as others.

Me: But if I’m gospel-centered I can’t be obliged to keep the law, can I?

WCF: Neither doth Christ, in the gospel, any way dissolve, but much strengthen this obligation.

Me: Wait a second. I thought I was set free from the law. How can I still be obliged to keep it then?

WCF: Although true believers be not under the law, as a covenant of works, to be thereby justified, or condemned; yet is it of great use to them, as well as others.

Me: You’re talking about how the law shows us our sin. I agree that’s important.

WCF: Yes, that’s one important way to us the law. It gives people a clearer sight of the need they have for Christ, and the perfection of his obedience.

Me: That makes sense. The law is all about revealing to us our failings so we can run to Christ.

WCF: True, but that’s not the only use of the law for Christians. It is also a rule of life informing them of the will of God, and their duty, it directs and binds them to walk accordingly.

Me: Okay, so the law simply tells us what is right and wrong.

WCF: I wouldn’t put it quite like that. The law is likewise of use to the regenerate, to restrain their corruptions, in that it forbids sin: and the threatening of it serve to show what even their sins deserve; and what afflictions, in this life, they may expect for them, although freed from the curse thereof threatened in the law.

Me: Wait a second. You’re saying even as believers we need to pay attention to the threats of the law and that even the regenerate may receive afflictions here and now for their disobedience? What is this, some kind of performance religion? I don’t think God wants justified believers to obey the law to try to please him.

WCF: The promises of it, in like manner, show them God’s approbation of obedience, and what blessings they may expect upon the performance thereof: although not as due to them by the law as a covenant of works.

Me: But come on, gospel Christians don’t obey because the law tells them to.

WCF: So as, a man’s doing good, and refraining from evil, because the law encourageth to the one, and deterreth from the other, is no evidence of his being under the law; and, not under grace.

Me: But if we must still listen to the warnings of the law and the promises of the law, and if we may even be blessed for obeying the law and receive afflictions for disobeying the law, and if part of our motivation for doing good is because the law encourages us to do so—how is this not all anti-gospel?

WCF: Neither are the forementioned uses of the law contrary to the grace of the gospel do sweetly comply with it.

Me: But this is just pulling ourselves up by our moral bootstraps.

WCF: Wrong. Christians obey the law by the Spirit of Christ subduing and enabling the will of man to do that freely, and cheerfully, which the will of God, revealed in the law, requireth to be done.

Me: So maybe there’s more of a place for the law in my life as a Christian than I thought.

WCF: That’s what Reformed Christians thought 350 years ago.

And here’s another good one I put up a couple years ago.

Every month or so I do a post called Book Briefs where I briefly highlight some of the books I’ve been reading. A couple months ago I introduced a variation on this theme: Book Bits. The aim is to give you a more in-depth look at a particularly important or provocative book. The approach is to give ten points from the book which can help you capture the central argument and big ideas. Think of it as the lazy man’s book review.

Today’s book is The Metaphysical Confederacy: James Henley Thornwell and the Synthesis of Southern Values (Mercer University Press, 1999 [1986]) by James O. Farmer, Jr.

In just under 300 pages, Farmer has given us a sensitive, sympathetic, but not uncritical intellectual biography of James Henley Thornwell (1812-1862). In his lifetime, Thornwell—who for a short time pastored First Presbyterian Church in Columbia (SC), a wonderful church where Sinclair Ferguson and Derek Thomas now serve—was the leading theologian in the South and quite possibly the most influential Presbyterian thinker in the country. Farmer’s scholarly work tries to understand Thornwell in his Southern context and explores the elements of his theology that were most connected to Southern values, including Thornwell’s defense of slavery. Farmer argues that Thornwell was one of the key figures, among many intellectuals, who shaped the idea of a metaphysical confederacy which was necessary for the creation of the actual Confederacy (16).

1. The Civil War (or, for others, the War Between the States) pit two competing worldviews against each other. “Two sets of values have been in opposition to one another through most of our history as a nation; one has cherished dynamism, cosmopolitanism, rationalism, and egalitarianism, while the other has preferred stability, localism, faith, and deference. By the second quarter of the nineteenth century, these opposing value systems were taking on a sectional quality, and politically they expressed themselves most articulately in the debate over slavery. Hence, because this debate was ultimately won by the progressive North, and because the values of the nation prevailed over those of its minority region, modern historians who implicitly in these values have found the Old South backward, inferior, and tainted by evil” (2). Crucially, prior to 1850 Southern preachers and other intellectuals were often critical of the South, but as tensions with the North escalated, the self-critical spirit retreated and a full-throated apology for Southern values swelled in force and frequency (5, 16, 36).

2. Thornwell, like most Southerners, understood the regional conflicts of the nineteenth century in broad terms. “The parties to this conflict,” Thornwell wrote, “are not merely abolitionists and slaveholders—they are atheists, socialists, communists, red republicans, Jacobins on the one side, and the friends of order and regulated freedom on the other. In one word, the world is the battleground—Christianity and atheism the combatants; and the progress of humanity the stake” (11). Thornwell saw abolitionism as one aspect of “a general spirit of madness and fanaticism” which included socialism, perfectionism, and, surprisingly enough, teetotalism (218). The anti-slavery views of the North were but one species of Northern liberalism, the rejection of “regulated liberty,” and a predilection for bigger government intrusion (222). As Eugene Genovese states in the foreword, “Thornwell’s defense of slavery may be seen as an extended footnote to his defense of Christian orthodoxy.”

3. The history of the South cannot be untangled from evangelical Christianity.  “Perhaps in no other culture has a particular form of religious expression been so prevalent and so influential as has orthodox Protestantism in the American South. Lacking the religious pluralism that produced the more tolerant increasingly secular societies of the North and West, the South did not develop a strong tradition of church-state separation” (285).

4. Thornwell was the leading figure not only in the South but in American Presbyterianism as a whole during the generation prior to the Civil War. When Benjamin Palmer first heard Thornwell preach, in Columbia’s First Presbyterian Church in 1839, he found that the preaching made up for in force and argument what it may have lacked in warmth (61). That church in Columbia grew to love and revere him, with many others marveling at his power and gifting. Henry Ward Beecher said Thornwell was “the most brilliant minister in the Old School Presbyterian Church, and the most brilliant debater in the General Assembly. . . .Whenever he was present in the Assembly, he was always the first person pointed out to a stranger” (63). In homage to his fellow South Carolinian, Thornwell was dubbed “the Calhoun of the Church” (175). In 1901, Southern Presbyterians would look back and conclude that to Thornwell more than anyone other individual, “our Church owes most of what is distinctive in her principles and polity” (280).

5. Thornwell could be unduly harsh, especially as a younger man. “So polemical did Thornwell become in arguments with his various adversaries that he later regretted the tone of much of his controversial writings” (66). Farmer also points out: “Thornwell’s life was full of personal sorrow because of the illness and deaths of four of his children, and some of his polemical work was produced under the strain of these tragedies” (66). And if he was a critical man, he was often most critical of himself. He lamented his own sins and shortcomings and found in Christ a genuine comfort for his wounded soul (129-130).

6. Interestingly, Thornwell, though cutting a slim, serious, angular figure, was no ascetic. “He enjoyed food, drink, cigars, and clothes, and insisted on the best quality that he could afford in all cases” (172).

7. Thornwell’s view of blacks was typical of white Southerns, but mitigated somewhat by his Christian commitments. “The notion of superior and inferior members of society, or the concept of relation, as it has been called, was central to Thornwell’s understanding of all social arrangements, particularly that of slavery. . . .That Thornwell was a racist should come as no surprise. It is difficult to measure the intensity of his racism, but his letters reveal no significant difference from the prevailing Southern view of the black man” (227). At the same time, Thornwell insisted that because of Adam and original sin whites and blacks shared a generic unity (227). Thornwell owned slaves but seems to have been an “easy and indulgent master” (229). He also objected to manstealing and the African slave trade (229-30).

8. Thornwell was not always pro-secession. He was an ardent unionist in 1830 and 1850 and opposed secession for South Carolina until late in 1860 (59). Seeing his country as God’s modern Israel, Thornwell clung to the hope, for as long as he could, that the sectional issues could be resolved without destroying the country (230). Even after the Presbyterians split, Thornwell drafted a “Farwell Letter” which he intended as a gesture of goodwill to the Northern Church. The Letter met with strong opposition and never went anywhere (280). In the end, Thornwell cast his lot squarely with secession and church division, but it was not his first impulse.

9. Thornwell’s defense of slavery was complicated and conflicted. Like many Southern clergy, Thornwell thoroughly rejected abolitionism and at the same time supported the effort to evangelize the slaves and improve their condition (211). He often expressed deep concern about the “abuses” and “evils” present in slavery. He called the South Carolina law against teaching slaves to read “disgraceful” (219). Thornwell acknowledged that slavery was not ideal. In one sense he even recognized that slavery was inconsistent with the gospel. “Slavery,” he asserted, “is a part of the curse which sin has introduced into the world, and stands in the same general relation to Christianity as poverty, sickness, disease or death. . . . It springs, not from the nature o man as man, nor from the nature of society as such, but from the nature of man as sinful and the nature of society as disordered” (224). He admitted that slavery was not a blessing and heaven would no more have slaves than it would have hospitals and beggars. And yet, he argued that slavery was not incompatible with the goals of a Christian life in a fallen world. He saw opportunities for sin and abuse in slavery, but not more so than in other systems and less so than in socialism and communism (224-225).

From our vantage point, Thornwell appears to be a man of two minds. He did not view blacks as equals with whites, and yet he believed they shared a common nature and needed the same gospel. He thought slavery was a result of the fall, but he also thought it was central to a well-ordered society. He tried to support the slave (through evangelism and education), but strongly supported the slavery the slave wanted to escape. (It seems Thornwell had little firsthand knowledge of how cruel slavery could be.) And though he did not think it the church’s place to condemn slavery, he frustrated some Southerners by insisting that the church had no right to commend slavery either. In the end, he was consistent in his doctrine of the spirituality of the church: the business of the church was to speak to master-slave relationships, not to address slavery itself (231-32).

10. Farmer concludes that “the metaphysical confederacy was a creature of paradox” (289). In a striking paragraph on the second to last page, Farmer argues that Southerners like Thornwell had one glaring blindspot, what he calls “the god of Southern nationalism.” They fled the modern liberal state and sought security in “that very nationalism which was becoming one of the chief deities of modern man.” The Southern clergy continually cautioned “against the idolatry and pride of nationalism, while embracing the Confederacy with a fervor surpassed by few parishioners. . . . For Thornwell the Calvinistic suspicion of human institutions was always mitigated by a powerful tendency to institutions of which he was a part.” (288). This meant a fierce loyalty to the Presbyterian Church, the United States, South Carolina, and slavery. “The conflict inherent in such loyalties would be resolved only with great pain” (288).

John Witherspoon, if he is known at all, is known in America for being one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Prior to emigrating to the colonies to assume the presidency at Princeton, he was a well known pastor in Scotland. While in Scotland, he was undoubtedly best known for his book Ecclesiastical Characteristics (1753), a devastating piece of satire aimed at the Moderate Party in the Kirk. Witherspoon lampooned their high manners and cool rationalism. The most famous section in Ecclesiastical Characteristics is Witherspoon’s mock statement of faith which he called “The Athenian Creed.”

I believe in the beauty and comely proportions of Dame Nature, and in almighty Fate, her only parent and guardian; for it hath been most graciously obliged (blessed be its name) to make us all very good.

I believe that the universe is a huge machine, wound up from everlasting by necessity, and consisting of an infinite number of links and chains, each in a progressive motion towards the zenith of perfection, and meridian of glory; that I myself am a little glorious piece of clock-work, a wheel within a wheel, or rather a pendulum in this grand machine, swinging hither and thither by the different impulses of fate and destiny; that my soul (if I have any) is an imperceptible bundle of exceeding minute corpuscles, much smaller than the finest Holland sand; and that certain persons, in a very eminent station, are nothing else but a huge collection of necessary agents who can do nothing at all.

I believe that there is no ill in the universe, nor any such thing as virtue absolutely considered; that those things vulgarly called sins are only errors in the judgment, and foils to set off the beauty of Nature, or patches to adorn her face; that the whole race of intelligent beings, even the devils themselves (if there are any) shall finally be happy; so that Judas Iscariot is by this time a glorified saint, and it is good for him that he hath been born.

In sum, I believe in the divinity of L. S—–, the saintship of Marcus Antoninus, the perspicuity and sublimity of A—–e, and the perpetual duration of Mr H—–n’s works, notwithstanding their present tendency to oblivion. Amen.

Witherspoon was a good writer, with quite a good sense of humor. Interested students or pastors would benefit from his Selected Writings (edited by Thomas Miller), which include Ecclesiastical Characteristics.

At a recent conference the three of us on the panel (all pastors) were asked the question, “As a layperson, should I start a grassroots movement to change my church?” All three of us basically said, “No.” Following the conference I got a long and heated email from someone who was very upset with my answer. He thought I was guilty of clericalism and gave no place for the laity to know anything, do anything, or ever question the pastor. That was certainly not what I said, nor, so far as I can tell, what most people thought we were communicating. But his concerns got my blogging juices flowing. The initial question about forming a grassroots movement to change a local church is one I’ve gotten in one form or another several times in the past five years. So perhaps it would be helpful to spell out my answer in a little more detail.

The Situation

Here’s the kind of situation I’ve been presented with many times. It’s what I assumed was behind the question at this recent conference.

You are at a church that doesn’t share your theology or seems to be heading in the wrong theological direction. Naturally, you are concerned and want to do something about it. You are sad to see your church change for the worse or sad to see your church less than what it should be. You wonder what you can do to help get things on track.

This situation usually arises for one of two reasons. Either you have recently come to a better theological understanding yourself and now see deficiencies in your pastor and in your church which you didn’t see before, or your church recently brought in a new pastor who is setting things on a different theological trajectory. There are, of course, variations to these two scenarios. Maybe you were brought on staff at a theologically weak church. Maybe your pastor has been drifting in recent years. Maybe your church just allowed something you disagree with (or just disallowed something you agree with). There are several permutations to the problem, but the basic contours stay the same: either you’ve changed or the church has changed, and the result in both cases is that the two aren’t lining up like they used to.

So what should you do?

Seven Suggestions

1. Pray for a humble heart. Make sure you aren’t being censorious. Check for plank-in-eye syndrome. Be sure you are giving your pastor and your church the benefit of the doubt. Ask the Lord for an open heart and an open mind.

2. Take note of your position. How you think about laboring for change in your church, and how you think of whether to work for change at all, has everything to do with your position in the church. Have you been at the church for decades or did you join two months ago? Have you proved yourself as a faithful servant in the body? Are you one of the official leaders of the church? An informal leader? A staff member? One of the others elders or pastors? The more designated authority you have–either by virtue of office, by virtue of maturity, or by virtue of years of service–the more you should do to work for change. The less you have, the less you should try to do.

3. Try to discern the relative importance of your concerns. Are you upset about preferences or about something more serious? Are your concerns about the character of your pastor or his personality? Are your theological concerns weighty or trivial? And if they are weighty, are they up for discussion in your church? If you’ve come to the Reformed faith in the midst of a Wesleyan church you have no business trying to make that congregation in the image of the Westminster Confession. Likewise, people in confessional churches (e.g., Reformed, Presbyterian, Lutheran) should not be surprised when their pastors teach the faith expressly laid down in their historic tradition.

4. Don’t talk up your concerns. Beware of building up an ever expanding circle of discontents. You may have to talk to a few persons for counsel. You may even know many other likeminded persons in the congregation. But your goal must not be to create a church within a church.

5. Consider encouraging your pastor with positive reinforcement. Find what you can commend and commend it. If your pastor is in need of more theological precision and development you may be able to give him good books to read–not usually polemical books championing your agenda, but positive devotional and theological works that give him a taste for sound doctrine. Maybe you can nudge your pastor toward a good conference or even take him to one yourself. If he is young or simply drifting a bit, your pastor may be open to gentle strengthening and redirection.

6. Consider prayerfully the course of direct confrontation. The pastor is not beyond correction. He can make mistakes. He can fall into error. He can get off track. He can grow proud. If after prayerful reflection you conclude that your concerns are serious and the trajectory worsening, set up a time to talk to your pastor or elders directly. I’ve never begrudged anyone coming to me with thoughtful concerns in a kind, humble way. Sometimes I agree with them. Sometimes I disagree. But I’m glad when they come to me or one of the elders directly.

7. Consider when it is time to leave. If your new theological convictions are out of step with the entire history and identity of the church, it’s best not to strategize for underground change. If a new pastor has come in and is moving things in a very different direction–with the full knowledge and blessing of the elders and with enthusiasm from most of the congregation–it’s best not to start a grassroots movement for reformation. If you’ve tried direct communication and the pastor or leaders tell you, in effect, “Thank you, but we see things a different way,” it’s best not to fight them tooth and nail. If David did not lay a hand on Saul as the Lord’s anointed, we should be very cautious about launching a guerrilla movement to take down our duly-appointed pastors and elders.

In rare occasions where the theological differences amount to heresy (or are clearly out of bounds with your confessional documents), or when your personal concerns relate to scandalous behavior, you may pursue church discipline and file charges, but only if you are following the steps of Matthew 18. In most cases where members are concerned with the direction of the church, the issues are important but not so egregious as to merit a formal process of discipline. In these instances, after working through steps 1-6 (and doing so with patience, not in a fit of passion), the concerned church member can either peaceably submit or quietly leave.

Summing Up

Please hear what I am saying and not saying. I’m not saying you shouldn’t talk to your pastor or work for change. I’m not saying the local congregation is the personal fiefdom for the pastor. I’m not saying pastors can’t learn much from laypeople in the congregation. What I am saying is that practically you should not spend your life trying to do what has very little chance of success, theologically you should obey and respect your leaders, and spiritually you should not be divisive.

And lest this sound like I’m trying to protect my turf as a pastor, let me make clear that I am not addressing this question because it is a live issue in my congregation. I’m thinking of good folks in other churches who largely share my theology and have the very good desire to influence their local church for good. That’s what I took to be the context for the question at the conference. I want to commend these brothers and sisters for their discernment and encourage them in prizing theological depth and integrity. But we should also remember that seeking the things that make for “unity, purity, and peace” (as our membership vows put it), sometimes entails being peaceable enough to find unity with another body that has the purity you are looking for.

I know, it’s Tuesday. I wanted to post something serious for Memorial Day, but I thought the clip below was good enough to make an appearance even on Tuesday.

HT:22 Words

O great God,

Protector of the weak, God of the nations, Lord of the conscience,

Whatever blessings we have in this land are from you.
Whatever freedoms we enjoy are gifts from your hand.

We pray, on this day, for those who wield the sword so that righteousness may triumph and wrongdoing may be vanquished.

We remember in particular those who preach the gospel to our servicemen and women.

Thank you for their ministry.

Thank you for your faithfulness.

Thank you for their sacrifice.

Comfort their families when they are deployed. Guard the marriages of husbands and wives, separated by the call of duty. Bestow special grace upon all those children far from a mom or a dad.

Give our chaplains wisdom and courage for the unique challenges they face:

that they may obey Christ even as they must obey their commanding officers,

that they may live for Christ, even as many of their friends and fellow soldiers live for the world,

that they may preach Christ, even as they must work side by side with others preaching a different gospel.

Help our chaplains to keep a close watch on their life and doctrine. May they be faithful, winsome, and bold in ministering the gospel.

Keep them steadfast in prayer.

Grant them success in their labors.

Sustain them in the face of danger, in the presence of discouragement, and in long stretches of monotony.

Thank you, Lord, for the United States of America–a flawed, sometimes unrighteous nation–but on the whole a blessing to her citizens, and, we believe, a blessing to many others.

Give us humility to see our faults, the gratitude to acknowledge our blessings, and the commitment to pray for those in the shadow of death and for those who speak to them the words of life.

John Calvin:

Now this, also, ought to be added, that although either fatherly favor and beneficence or severity of judgment often shine forth in the whole course of providence, nevertheless sometimes the causes of the events are hidden.

So the thought creeps in that human affairs turn and whirl at the blind urge of fortune; or the flesh incites us to contradiction, as if God were making sport of men by throwing them like balls. It is, indeed, true that if we had quiet and composed minds ready to learn, the final outcome would show that God always has the best reason for his plan:

either to instruct his own people in patience,

or to correct their wicked affections and tame their lust,

or to subjugate them to self-denial,

or to rouse them from sluggishness;

again, to bring low the proud, to shatter the cunning of the impious and to overthrow their devices.

Yet however hidden and fugitive from our point of view the causes may be, we must hold that they are surely laid up with him, and hence we must exclaim with David: “Great, O God, are the wondrous deeds that thou hast done, and thy thoughts toward us cannot be reckoned; if I try to speak, they would be more than can be told” [Ps. 40:5]. (Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1.17.1)